by Bob Fisher
Owen Roizman, ASC was born and raised in New York City. His father was a newsreel cameraman, but the son followed a different drummer. He wanted to become a major league baseball player. That dream was shattered when he injured his arm pitching in his last high school game. Roizman majored in math and physics at Gettysburg College in Pennsylvania. He planned to pursue a career in one of those fields. After graduation, Roizman decided that he had a more promising future as an assistant cameraman. It paid better.
He worked for a leading edge television commercial production house in New York, starting as an assistant cameraman, and working his way up through the ranks to operator and cinematographer. Roizman shot his first narrative film in 1970. It was a low budget film, which was never released. The following year, he earned the first of five Oscar nominations for his work on The French Connection. Over the next 11 years, Roizman compiled a total of 18 narrative film credits, including Oscar nominations for The Exorcist, Network and Tootsie.
Roizman opened his own TV commercial production company in Los Angeles in 1982, mainly because his son Eric was just entering his teens, and he felt it was important to work closer to home. During the next five years, Roizman produced, directed and shot hundreds of commercials. He returned to narrative filmmaking in 1988, and subsequently earned his fifth Oscar nomination for Wyatt Earp. Just to put that into perspective, Roizman is one of only five contemporary cinematographers with five Oscar nominations. He earned the coveted American Society of Cinematographers (ASC) Lifetime Achievement Award in 1977, and the Camerimage Lifetime Achievement Award in 2001.
Eric Roizman is in the dawn of his career. Early in his teens, he considered a career in music, and began playing the guitar at the age of 13. He studied filmmaking at the University of California—Los Angeles. He has never lost his passion for music and occasionally plays in bands. Roizman has worked as a second and first assistant cameraman, and he stepped up to operator last summer (2002) with Richard Crudo, ASC on the sequel Bring It On Again. He worked with Crudo again more recently on Grind, and is currently an “A”camera operator working with Francis Kenny, ASC on From Justin to Kelly.
Following are excerpts of a conversation with the two Roizmans:
ICG: Let’s start with you Owen. Your history began earlier. Where are you from?
OWEN ROIZMAN: I was born and raised on the East Coast. I lived in Brooklyn until I was 11 and then moved to Long Island, where I went to high school. My father (Sol Roizman) was a newsreel cameraman for Fox Movietone News for 22 years. My uncle Morris (Roizman) was a film editor. When television news started becoming popular that was the beginning of the end of cinema newsreels, so my father segued into TV commercials as a camera operator. He also worked for a while as an operator on several TV series, including Sergeant Bilko, and later as a director of photography on TV commercials.
ICG: Were you planning to follow in your dad’s footsteps? OWEN ROIZMAN: I didn’t think about that because I wanted
to be a major league baseball player since I was a kid.
I remember my father taking me to Ebbets Field when he was shooting newsreels.
I was in the dugout talking with Pee Wee Reese, Peter Reiser and other Dodgers.
I was actually an avid Yankees fan, but I was in heaven. I was a very good pitcher
in high school until I hurt my arm while pitching a no-hitter in my last game.
When I realized that I was not going to be a major league baseball player, I started
thinking about what I wanted to do. I majored in physics and math at Gettysburg
College in Pennsylvania. I thought I’d be a physicist, engineer,mathematician,
or maybe a teacher. However, when I was interviewing for jobs during my senior
year I decided to become a cameraman instead. ICG: What made you decide that? OWEN ROIZMAN: During my senior year in 1958, recruiters
for various companies interviewed me. I asked how much the starting salary would
pay. Their answer was that I could start about $5,000 annually, and work myway
up to $7,500 within four or five years. I asked my father how much I could make
as an assistant cameraman. He said if I was good enough and got work, I could
probably make $10,000 a year. It was an easy decision. ICG: How did you get started? OWEN ROIZMAN: During the summers of my sophomore and
junior years of college, I worked at Camera Equipment Company (CEC), a camera
rental company in New York. I checked cameras out for rental and checked them
in. I learned how to thread film. I learned about lenses, and how to put cameras
together and take them apart. That experience helped me a lot when I became an
assistant cameraman right out of college. ICG: How did that happen? OWEN ROIZMAN: It’s who you know, not what you know in
the beginning. I worked at first with my father, and then he spoke to a friend
named Akos Farkas, a wonderful Hungarian cinematographer, who took me under his
wing. I worked for Akos for a year as his assistant. He taught me a lot about
life and relationships as well as cinematography. He was from the old school,
and a real mentor. He would explain why he used different filters and made different
decisions. Then, Gerald Hirschfeld (ASC), who was part owner of MPO Videotronics
in New York and also a wonderful cinematographer, needed a new assistant cameraman.
He asked me to try out with him at my father’s request. My father was his operator
at the time. Jerry liked my work andput me on staff. Sadly, my father passed away
a couple of years later and Jerry made me his operator. I thenstarted shooting
commercials for MPO in 1968. ICG: Weren’t there some other future greats working
there at the time? OWEN ROIZMAN: Gordon Willis (ASC) and I were assistant
cameramen at the same time. Michael Chapman (ASC) and Arthur Ornitz (ASC) also
occasionally worked there. Michael Cimino got his start at MPO, too. Cimino was
just out of art school. He had never directed anything before. I remember when
I was starting out, Arnold Kaiser, one of the owners, asked me to go work with
Mike one day and just do whatever he wanted, because he wanted to experiment.
Arnold was a wonderful guy who loved taking chanceson young talent and trying
to develop them. I assisted for about three years, and then I operated for two
years. The way I got into shooting was that Gerry Hirschfeld had occasional theater
tickets. If we were going late on a shoot, he would go to the theater and ask
me to stay and finish shooting his inserts, a.k.a tabletop shots. I started developing
relationships with agency people and they started requesting me on jobs. Because
of that I wasn’t around enough to operate for Jerry full-time, and he finally
said if you’re not going to operate for me every day, there’s no point in me having
you here. I was going to leave MPO and find opportunities to shoot, but they put
me under contract as a cinematographer. ICG: What was the commercial industry like then? OWEN ROIZMAN: The commercial industry was great in those days.
It was very experimental and creative, and MPO was a giant in the business. We
had nine stages in New York, and a subsidiary in California. They sent me to California
from October until April every year. I would go back to New York in the spring
and summer because those were the busy times. ICG: How did you get your first feature project? OWEN ROIZMAN: There was an art director named Paul Heller, who
was going to producea film called Stop for Warner Bros. It had a $300,000
budget, which even in those days was low. Paul was looking for a cinematographer.
He had a first-time director by the name of Bill Gunn, who was also the writer.
Paul was looking at some equipment at General Camera, and Dick DiBona, who was
part owner, asked him who was going to shoot his movie? He said he didn’t have
anybody yet, so Dick recommended me. I knew Paul because he was art director on
some of the commercials I had shot. I had interviewed for one other film, but
Gordon Willis got that job. I shot Stop in Puerto Rico. It had kind of
a glossy look like the commercials I was shooting. That film was never released. ICG: That was in 1970. What happened next? OWEN ROIZMAN: A young director named Billy Friedkin was looking
for somebody to shoot The French Connection, and again, Dick DiBona recommended
me. Billy looked at my commercial reel. He liked it but it wasn’t a feature film,
so he screened Stop. After about four reels, he said, ‘It’s pretty stuff,
but all high-key. I want The French Connection to be a gritty, realistic,
down-and-dirty, documentary-style film. Do you think you can do that?’ I said,
‘Why not? I’m a cinematographer. You tell me the moodyou want, and I should be
able toget it on film.’ I think he liked my spunk. He offered me the film. ICG: How did you prepare to shoot The French Connection? OWEN ROIZMAN: I read the script, and started thinking about how
I was going to light. There were things I had never done before like shooting
low-key scenes in a car at night. I recruited my wife, Mona, to stand-in for Gene
Hackman and Roy Scheider. I experimented with lighting those scenes in our in
garage in total darkness. She sat in the car, and I experimented with placing
a few lamps to get a feel for the look and the mood I wanted. ICG: Did any of you have an idea when you were doing
The French Connection that it would become a classic that is still inspiring
other filmmakers? OWEN ROIZMAN: I don’t think anybody knew it was going to become
iconic. It’s still one of the best scripts I’ve ever read. When we were shooting
it, we all knew we were getting some good things. One day the production manager
was handing out our paychecks when we were about halfway through the picture.
He said to me, ‘You’ll probably be going get an Oscar.’ I said, ‘You’ve got to
be kidding.’ I had never thought of it in those terms. When they were in the editing
stage, I was talking to Billy (Friedkin) on the phone one day, and I asked, ‘How
does it look?’ He said, ‘There is no way to tell yet.’ I don’t think anybody knew
until it was released and the audience responded. ICG: This sounds like a dumb question, but how did
you know what to do? OWEN ROIZMAN: When you were shooting commercials in those days,
everything was high-key. We hardly ever shot at night or interior car shots. You
never wanted to make anything look grainy, low-key or realistic. It was all stylized.
In our early conversations, Billy said he wanted the picture to have almost a
documentary look. He wanted it to be very real looking. I just started thinking
about that and I decided to underexpose and force develop the film and then print
it up. That gave a very grainy look. ICG: Where did that come from? How did you know what
to do? OWEN ROIZMAN: Instinct. We sometimes shot in available light
and low-key situations, and stretched the exposure latitude of the film. Everybody
thought I shot The French Connection in available light. I always joke
and say yes, I shot in whatever light was available from the truck. The goal was
to make it look like it wasn’t lit, which was a radical notion in those days. ICG: This is either a dumb or rhetorical question.
During the past several years, there has been a series of articles in newspapers
and some trade magazines about how digital cameras are eliminating the need for
lighting, and how directors are now making their own movies by putting digital
cameras on their shoulders. They are basically saying that lighting gets in the
way of the actors and just slows things down. My question is whether future directors
and cinematographers will need to be concerned about lighting? OWEN ROIZMAN: My simple answer to that is FOREVER. I believe every film has a mood …some kind of quality
that you want to capture to transmit the essence of the story to the audience.
It doesn’t have to happen on a conscious level. I’ve always felt that you subconsciously
draw the audience into the film, so that they’re not aware that there’s a camera,
lights or anything else. They are just sitting there as voyeurs seeing a story
unfold. There are many elements that go into capturing that mood and drawing the
audience in, including composition, lighting and camera movement. The video camera
is just another tool. You still need creativity and taste, and you still have
to know how to achieve the looks and the moods you want. It really does matter.
Imagine that you’re shooting a dark scene in a closet and there’s no light on,
and yet everything is very brightly lit. Subconsciously, people are looking at
it and they’re saying, what’s wrong with this? This doesn’t feel right. Even if
it’s not on a conscious level, subconsciously they feel that something’s wrong
and you’re doing the film and the audiencean injustice. ICG: You got an Oscar nomination for The French
Connection. Did you get countless offers after that, and how did you decide
what to do next? OWEN ROIZMAN: I never wanted to work non-stop, picture after
picture after picture. I turned down a lot of films and filled my time with commercials.
I started directing commercials during the mid-1960s. I liked the process of directing
and shooting. I could do a lot of experimenting with commercials, and I could
be more selective about the scripts I chose. ICG: Your next films were The Gang That Couldn’t
Shoot Straight, Play It Again, Sam and Heartbreak Kid. What are some
of the memories of those films? OWEN ROIZMAN: The French Connection wasn’t out yet when
I accepted The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Straight. The fact that somebody
wanted to hire me again really thrilled me, and so I took it. I also thought the
book was wonderful, but I never understood the script. I read it three times and
thought there must be something wrong with me, because I didn’t know what it was
about. Unfortunately that’s the way the film turned out. After that I did Play
It Again, Sam, and that was a great script and a chance to work with Woody
Allen, even though he didn’t direct it. Herb Ross directed it. That was fun and
I thought it was a hysterical film. It was the same with The Heartbreak Kid.
I just loved that script, too. It was kind of ironic that after doing a picture
like The French Connection, I did three comedies in a row, but I tried
not to approach those as high-key comedies. Itried to create the looks that I
envisioned when I read the scripts. ICG: You did a really scary film in 1973. OWEN ROIZMAN: I filmed The Exorcist. That was another
experience all together. The Exorcist was the most difficult film
that I’ve ever worked on. Billy Friedkin was very demanding and sometimes quite
unpredictable. It was a great book and a very exciting screenplay. I did a lot
of research. I read the archives from Georgetown University, which William Blatty’s
book was based on. They were actually scarier than his book. Billy Friedkin gave
me a tape of an eight-year-old Italian boy being exorcised. The whole thing was
in Italian, yet the sounds and the whole essence of it overwhelmed me. I was just
completely sucked into the project. I just knew it was going to be great, and
like I said, it was very difficult. I never knew what was going to happen from
one day to the next. ICG: There is a great line by Samuel Clemens, a.k.a
Mark Twain, which says the difference between the right word and the almost right
word is like the difference between lightning and the lightning bug. I’d guess
that was true on The Exorcist. The difference between it being frightening
and funny was probably a pretty close line. OWEN ROIZMAN: Yes, I think that’s true. Billy (Friedkin) and
I talked about the look at length. We agreed that it shouldn’t look like an old
Lon Chaney horror film. We decided that there would be no under-lighting or anything
to make it seem like a horror movie. We didn’t want any visual clichés. We felt
if we could make it realistic looking, and the actors performed realistically
that people would really be sucked into the story. If the audience subconsciously
believes that what they see on the screen is real, they buy into the story. ICG: I keep coming back
to that question, how do you know what’s going to work? OWEN ROIZMAN: Some of it’s taste, some is instinct, some of it
is experience,and some is pure dumb luck. Billy Friedkin and I agreed right off
the bat that we wanted to take a realistic approach with a very subtle undertone
that something supernatural was happening. There are imperceptible nuances that
make it a little spookier, but we didn’t overdo it. ICG: Would you do anything differently with all the
new technology today? OWEN ROIZMAN: That’s an interesting question. Somebody, not too
long ago saw the re-release of The Exorcist and said, ‘Wow, it’s amazing
that you were able to do that 30 years ago with slower lenses and films and older
lights.’ Well, the film and lenses were slower, but I still worked at very low
light levels, so I don’t know how much different I would have done ittoday. It’s
not so much as what kind of lights you are using but how you use them that counts. ICG: Eric, when did you become aware that your father
was a cinematographer? ERIC ROIZMAN: Gosh, I can’t remember. I always knew that he had
a very different type of job. Most kids go visit their dads in their offices.
I’d go to visit him on location in the middle of a field in Mexico, or some other
unlikely place with all these interesting characters running around. I don’t know
when it really hit me that he was in charge of creating the images for movies. ICG: Did your father put a camera in your hands when
you were a kid? ERIC ROIZMAN: No, I don’t think he was trying to make me a junior
cinematographer. ICG: At what point did you decide you wanted to be
a cinematographer? ERIC ROIZMAN: I went to film school at UCLA, but the truth is
that I thought I was going to be a professional musician. I actually played in
bands. I have been working on camera crews for a number of years, but I have just
recently committed to making this my life’s work. ICG: Owen, in 1974, you shot The Taking of Pelham
One Two Three in anamorphic format, mainly on a train or what amounted to
a long hallway. In those days, the anamorphic format was generally reserved for
epic films with big exteriors. What was the rationale? OWEN ROIZMAN: The picture was originally supposed to be shot
in 1:8:5. When I was doing preproduction, and thinking about what was going to
be the best approach for lighting, composition and movement, I spent time in subway
stations and rode trains back and forth. I’d get out on the platforms and walk
around and just look at it and get a feel for it. I noticed the length of the
subway car and the shape was low and wide. I decided it would be perfect for anamorphic.
We could get much more information into each shot and do more interesting close-ups.
I went to the director and the producer and told them I think we should shoot
the picture in anamorphic. ICG: What was their initial response? OWEN ROIZMAN: They said, you’re crazy and looked at me like I
was nuts. I asked them to let me shoot some side-by-side tests, anamorphic and
1:8:5, and they could be the judge. We went into the subway station and shot people
getting on and off trains from all different kinds of angles. I shot in anamorphic
and 1:8:5:1, and then we screened the tests. Everybody went wild. They immediately
agreed that we absolutely had to shoot in anamorphic. By the way, I am also a
firm believer that you can also shoot comedies in anamorphic. Sydney Pollack is
a great fan of anamorphic. We shot Tootsie, for example, in anamorphic.
It is a matter of learning how to use the frame. Some films may lend themselves
more to anamorphic than others, but I do believe that the most intimate pictures
can be shot in anamorphic. ICG: Can you give us an example of how you used the
wider frame? OWEN ROIZMAN: It’s hard to put into simple explanations. There
are no rules you can follow. You can do different types of close-ups in anamorphic.
You put the actor on the far side of the frame rather than in the center and you
can fill the rest of the frame with information. Most of the time, to me, it should
be filled with subliminal information, so you see it and feel it, but you’re not
focused on it. That’s what I love about anamorphic. It’s up to your imagination. ICG: Owen, were you primarily self-taught? OWEN ROIZMAN: I learned a lot at MPO and as an assistant cameraman
and operator. I was likea sponge. I really wanted
to master the technical part of the craft. I had the opportunity to shoot infrared
traveling mattes and did a lot of blue screen work and rear projection, so I had
a lot of good technical training…as for lighting, I was influenced by still photographers
and art directors at advertising agencies who wanted single-source soft and black
shadows and things which hadn’t been done before. After that, I really taught
myself from picture to picture. It was a lot of trial and error. I’ve always been
bored if I did the same thing over and over. I was always experimenting. ICG: In 1975, you shot another milestone film, Three
Days of the Condor. OWEN ROIZMAN: Three Days of Condor was my first film with
Sydney Pollack, and right off the bat Sydney said, I want to shoot this in anamorphic.
I said, great… so we hit it off wonderfully. Sydney is very good technically.
He knows still photography and he understands lenses, composition and lighting.
He’s a great director with editing and really understands how to structure a film.
We had interesting conversations. We agreed up front that we were going to shoot
Three Days of the Condor with long lenses. The first day we mainly shot
on location, including the sequence where the killers come in and wipeout everybody
in the CIA undercover place. Sydney said, let’s put a 30 mm lens on. A 30 mm lens
in anamorphic is equivalent to a 15 mm spherical lens, so it’s a very wide angle
lens. I asked, what happened to the long lens theory we were talking about all
those weeks? He answered that (production designer) Steve Grimes designed such
a beautiful set that he hated the idea of not seeing it. So that’s how we started
off on Condor, but we saw eye to eye on almost everything. It was a great
experience. ICG: You got Oscar nominations for The French
Connection, The Exorcist and then in 1976 for Network. That wasn’t
a bad start. You had 10 credits, three Oscar nominations, and you were still in
your 30s. Then, you shot a Western in 1976, The Return of a Man Called Horse.
OWEN ROIZMAN: There’s a really interesting back-story
here. Irvin Kershner was the director and really wanted me to shoot the film.
Like you said, I did 10 pictures in New York but I still couldn’t get into the
Camera Guild in California. The producers spoke to Jerry Smith, who was the business
agent for the Hollywood Local about setting up some kind of deal that would get
me into the Local. The producers came back to me and asked if I would work at
half my regular price if they could get me into the union in California and I
agreed. They figured they could satisfy Kershner and at the same time get me cheap.
They were right. ICG: Do you know why they asked you to shoot a Western
in the first place? OWEN ROIZMAN: Kershner wanted me because he liked what
I had done in my other films. The producers asked him, ‘Why? He doesn’t shoot
Westerns. He’s a city street guy.’ He explained, ‘that’s exactly why I want him.
I figure he’ll bring a fresh approach to it.’ I loved the idea of shooting a Western,
so I immediately began researching. Kershner is a great still photographer, so
he understood everything I was talking about. We remain great friends to this
day. We hang out together and show each other our still photographs. I came in
with a totally fresh approach and we had a terrific time doing it, but ironicallyJerry
Smith reneged on his end of the deal and still kept me out of the Local. ICG: Did he tell you why? OWEN ROIZMAN: He said he changed his mind. That was
it. ICG: How did you finally get in? OWEN ROIZMAN: It’s a long story about finding loopholes in the
system. I did it that same year through commercials. I had my own production company,
and my attorney was also the attorney for the producers association. They had
to take me in because I was an employee of a company with a Guild agreement. ICG: Eric, I’m coming back to you. How serious were
you about music? ERIC ROIZMAN: It started when I was a little kid. I’d bang on
pans and pots and pretend they were drums. I started playing the guitar when I
was 12 or 13. It was my passion. I played all the time. I even played in bands.
I still play the guitar. OWEN ROIZMAN: You were 13. I remember, because it was when I
came home from shooting Tootsie. I knew you wanted to play something, but
didn’t want to make a commitment, so I made it a mandate that you choose a musical
instrument. I said, ‘I don’t care what it is, you make the choice.’ You chose
the guitar. ICG: How did you get into film? ERIC ROIZMAN: I went to school, and took some film classes, and
dropped out for a while. I was an intern at Panavision for a six-week internship.
It the first time I really went into the darkroom and loaded mags and learned
how motion picture cameras and lenses were put together. I went back to film school
at UCLA and finished there. ICG: What were some of your early jobs? ERIC ROIZMAN: I had a friend who was photographing low-budget
music videos in 16mm. I got my feet wet by assisting him for a while. Then, Alan
Dislar (1st Assistant Cameraman) gave me an opportunity to work as
the film loader with he and Gordon Willis (ASC) on Malice. I’ve been a
second assistant with different cinematographers, including Caleb Deschanel (ASC),
Dick Bowen, ICG: Do you remember why you got that feeling about
operating? ERIC ROIZMAN: I’ve studied both art history and still photography
in school and on my own, and became fascinated with how you can make a statement
with composition. It brings so many things together. There’s also a hand-eye coordination
element to operating and a taste, which felt natural to me. I also like the challenge
of coordinating with the focus puller and dolly grip to nail a tough shot. If
you pull off a tough shot and it works, it’s just a great feeling. ICG: Is it tough working in an industry where your
father is a superstar? ERIC ROIZMAN: I think I have a pretty good attitude about that.
I fully understand that because of my father I have had opportunities that most
guys don’t get. I also know that he can only get me in the door and that if I
couldn’t do the job, I would be history. ICG: Do you see similarities between music and cinematography? ERIC ROIZMAN: Absolutely. Both are about tempo and timing.
When you are shooting a scene, and moving the camera, it can be very rhythmic.
It’s something you feel or sense. My music background has helped me as a camera
operator, because sometimes there will be a rhythm or a beat to a scene that is
very similar to playing music. It’s something I can contribute as an operator. ICG: Owen, tell us about The Electric Horseman,
which you shot in 1979? OWEN ROIZMAN: The Electric Horseman was an interesting
project. We shot it in Las Vegas and St. George, Utah, and lived in Caesar’s Palace
for seven weeks. Usually you spend half your day traveling back and forth to locations
but in this case it was like shooting in your own home. It was the second picture
I did with Robert Redford, so I was used to working with him. Sydney Pollack was
the director, and it was my second picture with him. It was the only time I’ve
worked with Jane Fonda. She was delightful. ICG: One of the reasons I brought this film up was
that there was an interesting situation last year where the studio restored the
negative, made a new print, and showed one of the scenes atan event honoring Jane
Fonda. Somehow they turned a night scene into daylight. What happened?
OWEN ROIZMAN: There is a little history to this story so please
indulge me. The last day of shooting was a scene where Redford and Fonda are walking
with this horse that has been mistreated. He’s trying to save it, and she’s a
journalist trying to get the story. They are out in the country walking to this
place where he’s going to release the horse. The sequence plays out over the course
of a day and ends at night. I told Sydney we should shoot this last part day-for-night
because that’s the only way you really see any background out in the open country.
He said, great. It was the last day of shooting and Redford and Jane had planes
sitting and waiting at the St. George Airport (in Utah). As soon as we wrapped, they were gone. We weren’t even going to see dailies until we got back to L.A. We had a perfect day for it, sunlight, and deep clouds. I jumped on the crane and started setting up the camera. Sydney asked me, ‘What I wasdoing?’ I told him I wasgoing to pull back and shoot with a long lens. Jane and Bob were putting pressure on him to get done. They wanted to get out of there, so he was trying to deal with them. I was sort of on my own on the crane. That was the only time I ever shot anything with him where I don’t think he understood what I was trying to do. If you don’t know what you’re doing in day-for-night, it’s really tricky. Sydney was actually giving me a hard time all day. But when he saw the resultsin the screening room, he couldn’t believe it. He said, ‘I never dreamed it was going to look like that.’ He asked me, ‘How did you know it was going to look that way?’ The answer is experience, taste and trusting your instincts. In order to express your art you have to know your craft. You can’t do one without the other.
ICG: So, what went wrong when they made this new
print? OWEN ROIZMAN: I always work with a thick negative to give the
lab plenty of latitude. When the studio decided to make the new print, they had
a timer do it without any guidance from either Sydney or me. What happened was that whoever re-timed it, assumed
it was supposed to be daylight, and they printed it as though it was the middle
of the day. It changed the whole meaning and mood of the scene. They called me
in to take a look at it and I got it to look correct. However, they sent the scene
from the first print to be shown at the event honoring Jane. Sydney later told
me about it because he was there that night. He told me I would have had a heart
attack if I had seen it. I hope they call me in when they transfer it to DVD,
but I don’t know if they will. I think this is an important issue for cinematographers.
Unless the person who created the images is present when are re-timing it for
DVD or anything else, chances are they are going to get it wrong. ICG: Are you typically called in to supervise when
your old films are re-mastered? OWEN ROIZMAN: It depends. I’ve had both experiences. I recently
timed the new IP for I Love You To Death and now they’re making a high-definition
DVD. That film is only 13-years-old, but they wanted to make a new IP and a high-definition
transfer. Sony (Studios) was great. They called me in both cases. They felt that
it wasvaluable for them, and I certainly appreciated it, because now my work will
be preserved and seen the way I intendedit to look. ICG: I have a question about Tootsie. What
did you do to help make Dustin Hoffman believable when he was impersonating a
female? OWEN ROIZMAN: I think that was the whole secret to the movie.
If he wasn’t believable then the whole premise of the story wouldn’t have worked.
We did extensive makeup and wardrobe tests, and Dustin studied how the character
should look, sound and act. His character Dorothy Michaels wears glasses in the
film. We had Panavision make special coated glasses that were non-reflective.
That was important because the only way I could make his skin tones look believable
with all the makeup was to flat light him. I was using front light on him most
of the time. If you do that, and your character has glasses on, you’re going to
see reflected light. We used a lot of little tricks like that. In the final print,
we did special processing to take some of the pores out of Dustin’s skin tones.
ICG: Here’s the question of the day for you. You
compiled 18 credits in just 12 years and earned your fourth Oscar nomination for
Tootsie in 1982. At that juncture, you decided to stop shooting narrative
films and concentrate on directing and shooting commercials. Why? OWEN ROIZMAN: Eric was 13 years old when I finished Tootsie.
Actually I shot one more film after Tootsie. It was Vision Quest,
which my good friend Harold Becker directed. After that I felt it was important
for me to be around home more with a teenage son growing up. I figured if I opened
my own commercial company it would tie me down and I wouldn’t be tempted by a
great script to go off and shoot a film at a remote location for six months. I
turned down a lot of good projects during that period, but I have no regrets. ICG: How many commercials do you think you did in
that span? OWEN ROIZMAN: I have no idea. Sometimes you don’t do as many
when you’re directing because there’s prep time involved. You may have weeks of
prep for a one-day shoot, and there’s the whole bidding process. It was probably
in the hundreds. ICG: What did you learn from that experience? OWEN ROIZMAN: I gained a lot of respect for producers and directors.
I had directed commercials before, but now I was responsible for coming in on
budget, and making sure I had all the elements. I also had an obligation to the
crews to make sure that they were well treated well. I had a staff working for
me and a big overhead every month, so there was a lot more responsibility. I became
much more aware of the other elements of the process of filmmaking. ICG: Why and when did you go back to shooting narrative
films? OWEN ROIZMAN: When I started my commercial company in 1983, I
signed a five-year lease for office space. The five years were coming to an end,
and there was a huge actors’ strike in the commercial industry. The business was
getting very cutthroat and Eric had his driver’s license, so I figured, he didn’t
need me hanging around anymore. Larry Kasdan asked me to work with him on I
Love You to Death and I was interested. Right after that I worked with Sydney
Pollack again on Havana and then the following year I shot The Addams
Family and Grand Canyon. ICG: Eric, what did you concentrate on in film school? ERIC ROIZMAN: I concentrated a lot on the new media, the Internet
and the use of computers for delivering content, because it was the dawn of that
era. ICG: What were your questions for your dad? ERIC ROIZMAN: How much does production design affect what you
do? OWEN ROIZMAN: Production design has everything to do with what
we do as cinematographers, because they provide the palette that we have to photograph.
It’s the same with wardrobe, costumes, set decorators, all of that makes a huge
difference. That’s why it’s important for cinematographers to come onboard as
early as possible during the pre-production stage, so you can have meetings with
the production designer and director, and hopefully guide them to your way of
thinking. Too often, you are brought in after those things have been decided and
you’re stuck shooting that palette. It makes a huge difference when you’re working
with a really talented production designer. I remember, for example, Three
Days of the Condor. It was my first film with Stephen Grimes. I remember we
were looking at a set with very fine striped black and white wallpaper. I said,
‘Steve, you’ve got to change this, because this is going to dance and strobe,
because it istoo contrasty.’ He was totally embarrassed that he had made that
mistake. I thought to correct it he was going to take the wallpaper off, but all
he did was tech it down to take the contrast out of it. We developed an immediate
respect for each other and laterworked together on several films. ERIC ROIZMAN: You have told me that you adhere to a less-is-more
philosophy. How do you adhere to the less-is-more philosophy on large sets on
soundstages or big night exteriors? OWEN ROIZMAN: I don’t think the size of the shot makes a difference,
because you can just adjust the size of the lights to coincide with the shot.
If you’re going to shoot a bottle, for example, or a tin can on a tabletop, you
don’t need a huge light, but you are still using one source from one direction.
You use whatever size it takes to give you a believable source. This may be an
exaggeration but I’ve always felt that if you’re working with a great production
designer, you should be able to walk on a set, take one light, put it strategically
in the place you want and everything should look great. ERIC ROIZMAN: When you’re shooting in a practical location, how
do you begin? What’s the first thing you look at while deciding how to light it?
In other words, do you start from the space and then move onto the actors or do
you start from the actors and move out to the space? OWEN ROIZMAN: Everybody has different theories, but I always
think about faces, because eventually you will end up with close-ups on the actors.I
always look at their faces and think about how I want to end up lightingthem.
From there, I work my way out to the set. There are other cinematographers who
light the sets or locations first and let the actors find their best light. ERIC ROIZMAN: Why do you choose a certain stop, say a T-2.8 or
4? What determines that? It seems like the differences sometimes are very subtle. OWEN ROIZMAN: These are great questions. Two things always decide
the stop for me. First, I try to pick a stop that I would want to work with for
the entire film, because I train my eye to see things at a certain light level,
so I know how it will translate to film. If I was working a key of 15 footcandles,
I could feel how much fill light I needed. I didn’t even have to measure it, because
I just knew from the dailies and doing it every day what it was going to look
like. The other reason why I would pick a stop to work at was based on how much
information I wanted to see in the background all the time. If I wanted to go
for close-ups with the background to be out of focus most of the time, which is
the way I generally like it, I would pick a more wide-open stop. Come to think
about it, there’s another reason, too. If I had an assistant who I thought was
going to be really, really good pulling focus, I could work at more wide-open
stops. ERIC ROIZMAN: So, the crew can be part of your aesthetic decision-making? OWEN ROIZMAN: Absolutely. There are very few auteurs who can
make great movies alone. It is a collaborative process. The crew is like my family.
You are living with them day-in and day-out for months, especially when you’re
on location. You have to know what everyone can contribute and keep encouraging
them to do so. ERIC ROIZMAN: I have a few more questions. What do you look for
during rehearsals? OWEN ROIZMAN: When the director is working with his actors and
laying out a scene, I’m looking at it in terms of the different kind of shots
that I think are necessary. It’s all about editing. Is this going to play well
with just one master? Which direction will we get the best coverage? Which direction
are the actors facing? How can I to get them in the best light? I’m always looking
at it in terms of how I’m going to light the actors when they’re looking in a
certain direction from a certain spot, and what kind of coverage will we need
to make the scene go together smoothly? It’s a multi-faceted approach to thinking
that starts on a conscious level, but it becomes almost subconscious or instinctive.
It’s both an art and a science. ERIC ROIZMAN: I’m throwing this question back at you. How would
you light a scene in a space that has no light like someone in a closet or maybe
a coffin? OWEN ROIZMAN: Since I’m always asking that question, the truth
is that I don’t reallyhave the answer. It really depends on so many factors. Let’s
face it. If somebody really is in a closet and the door’s closed, and there’s
no light coming underneath the crack of the door, they’re really in total darkness.
But, in that case, you might as well be doing a radio show, so you have to invent
a way to make it believable by using some poetic license. Everybody takes a different
approach. ICG: One of my personal favorites in your body of
work was Grand Canyon, which you shot in 1991. What was your impression
of that film? OWEN ROIZMAN: I loved that film and I loved shooting it. The Grand Canyon was a metaphor for Los Angeles. You
only see the briefest part of the canyon at the end, and everything else is just
leading up to that. The story was really about living in this microcosm of a city
where the characters are talking about the canyon. ICG: You earned your fifth Oscar nomination in 1994
for Wyatt Earp. OWEN ROIZMAN: It was a great film to work on because it was a
multi-seasonal period story with great locations, talented actors and a special
kind of chemistry. It was my third film directed by Larry Kasdan, and the first
time Eric worked on my crew as a second assistant. It was a physically demandingfilm,
but one of the nicest experiences I’ve had. Anytime any cinematographer can get
to work on a period film in the outdoors the possibilities are endless. ICG: You did another movie called French Kiss
with Larry Kasdan in 1995. Roger Ebert wrote that your cinematography ‘made love
to two cities,’ however you also had a prescient insight about how digital postproduction
could alter the role of the director of photography. OWEN ROIZMAN: We did a sequence with Meg Ryan on a train traveling
through the countryside in France and another scene on an airplane. We shot the
interiors on a stage in Paris that wasn’t big enough for us to use rear projection
screens outside the windows. I had heard that (visual effects supervisor) Richard
Yuricich (ASC) had developed some interesting process which allowed you to move
the camera freely, instead of locking it down when you are shooting the foreground
of composite shots with moving elements in the background plates. That was important,
because it subtly enhanced the illusion that the train or airplane was moving.
We shot some tests, and it worked. I lit the train scene to look like there was
soft early morning light coming through the windows with just the right blend
of colors and mood. I had a second unit cameraman shoot the background plates.
I was very happy with the lighting inside the train, and the plates, but nobody
called me when they made the digital composites on either the train or airplane
sequences. Everything about the timing was wrong, but by the time I saw it was
too late to fix. That taught me an important lesson. You can change anything in
a digital suite, and itcan be a very powerful tool. However, if the cinematographer
isn’t there, the results can be damaging to the film, because no one else really
understands what was in his mind when he lit the scene, or what was necessary
for continuity. ICG: Why do you suppose that is even a question?
Why don’t people understand? OWEN ROIZMAN: That’s a great mystery. I don’t know what
the answer is. I guess it comes down to us needing to educate the producers, directors,
and studios. This will become a much more important issue as more movies are timed
digitally instead of optically. It is really important that the original cinematographers
see their images portrayed in the finished films the way they intended them to
look. That can only happen if they are there to supervise the final product.
ICG: Eric, I’m turning back to you. You recently
finished two consecutive pictures, Bring It On Again and Grind,
with Richard Crudo. What did you learn? ERIC ROIZMAN: I am always learning. Every film is an education
about how to act on the set, how to deal with other people in the crew, and, of
course, how to move the camera in ways that help the story. It’s an endless list.
My advice to someone who is stepping up to camera operator is to really pay attention
to your director of photography and your director. Watch rehearsals like a hawk.
Know where your actors are going to be. Know what the scene is about, so you know
who to go with if you have to make a choice. Richard is great to work with in
that he really takes command of the set when he is lighting and he is not afraid
to share his knowledge. I was watching Richard all the time to see what he did
and how he acted. He’d come over and whisper in my ear and explain what he was
doing and why. I really appreciated that. I watched him closely when he would
set up shots and paid attention to how he dealt with the directors. One was a
total first-time director and one was relatively inexperienced. It was interesting
to see how Richard stepped in and helped them without making it obvious to anyone
else. It was a great experience. ICG: How would you describe
your relationship with Richard? How did he let you know what he wanted you to
do? ERIC ROIZMAN: Richard would generally set the camera position
and do a rehearsal or tell me what he expected. Sometimes things weren’t as nailed
down, and I’d have the freedom to kind of float around and find shots. Once in
a while he’d ask me to set up a shot and he would come over and bless it or tell
me to make an adjustment. It always made me feel good when I felt I was in tune
with him and that I was able to make a contribution. ICG: I noticed watching you one day that you did
a fair amount of handheld work. ERIC ROIZMAN: It was motivated by the scene, like a fight scene
that they wanted to feel a little bit more frenetic than a Steadicam or dolly
shot. There’s a little more energy in a handheld shot. It’s something the audience
senses. It’s usually the director’s call, but every once in a while Richard would
suggest it and the directors were open to his suggestions. ICG: Eric, I remember asking Phil Lathrop (ASC) why
he spent some 20 years assisting and operating before he started shooting and
he told me, very seriously that he didn’t feel ready. How about you? Do you have
a plan for your future or are you riding the wind? ERIC ROIZMAN: I absolutely plan on eventually becoming a director
of photography, but I plan on operating for as long as it takes me for me to feel
confident in moving up to that position. I will be patient because there is so
much to learn. I want to work with as many different talented directors of photography
as I can. ICG: Do you think of this as an art form or a job? ERIC ROIZMAN: There are times when you’re going in for a paycheck
to do a professional, workman like job. But there are other times where you’re
excited about what you’re doing, and it really feels like a worthy thing to be
working on. And it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with the subject matter.
You can be working on the most seeming lightweight movie, but if everybody really
cares about it and wants it to be as good as it can in every way…everybody rises
with that tide. It’s very satisfying to come in and do the work in that kind of
environment. ICG: There is so much hype today about how technology
is or will be changing everything about the art and craft of filmmaking. What
is the most important advance that you’ve seen in technology? OWEN ROIZMAN: I personally think that the biggest advance was
the invention of the VCR, laserdiscs, and DVDs.
They allow you the opportunityto study hundreds of films and learn more about
the art and craft, because it’s a lot easier to run something back and forth at
home on a DVD or a tape or a laserdisc than it is to go watch a film in the theater…
and studying an art form is how you learn. The more you can study the better off
you are. As far as the equipment goes, today’s lenses are and films are a little
faster, the lights are a little smaller and cooler, but you still have to know
when and how touse them to tell stories. They’re just tools, that’s all. It’s
like a painter being given a different palette, a different brush or a different
mixture of the colors. You still have to blend it all together and use them. I
remember when we were shooting The Black Marble (1980), we had an interior
scene in a very dimly-lit church in Los Angeles. The camera was on a balcony looking
down on the action. I wasn’t allowed to rig lights, and we were using a 30mm anamorphiclens
for the establishing shot. The film speed was 100 and it was a T-3 lens. I had
the crew hide Chinese lanterns in the four corners of the church interior, but
I was still getting a very low reading on my light meter. However, I decided not
to push the film because I felt the scene needed rich black, velvet tones without
a hint of grain. With all my experience I was worried about the results.We shot
on a Friday, and I spent the whole weekend thinking that my career was finished.
I was going to get fired on Monday. But, the dailies were gorgeous. It was probably
one of the most beautiful scenes I’ve ever shot. We have new films, new lenses
and other new technologies today, but in that same situation, I’d still have to
trust my instincts and understand the craft. Those Chinese lanterns, as weak as
they were, worked out great. If you just pointed the camera and shot, it wouldn’t
be the same. ERIC ROIZMAN: I think that’s a great point about DVDs being the
most important new technology for cinematographers. Today, it is easy for someone
like me to study a film 100 times frame by frame. I was watching Tora! Tora!
Tora! Recently. There’s a scene where a general is in a room talking to the
other generals, and the dolly moves were just so beautiful, so subtle and thought
out. It must have taken such choreography between the dolly grip, cinematographer
and operator…especially considering the size and heft of the equipment they were
using at that time. It’s great to be able to watch a scene like that and really
study it. ICG: That’s a great segue to the annual ASC Outstanding
Achievement Awards. Owen, you have been chairman or co-chairmanof the ASC Awards
for as along as I can remember. OWEN ROIZMAN: The main reason for the ASC Awards is that we believe
it is important for cinematography to be judged as an art form by the people who
actually do the work. That’s because it is very difficult for anyone else to understand
what cinematography is about. One of the things that bothers me about the Academy
Awards, and it’s difficult for me to say this because I’m on the Board at the
Academy, is that everybody votes for everything. That means I have the same vote
choosing who did the most creative sound or visual effects as the people who work
in those sectors everyday of their lives. I can appreciate costume design because
we work so closely with them, but I’m not looking for the nuances that only another
costume designer would see. It’s the same with cinematography. When the critics
write or talk about cinematography, they usually mention the gorgeous pictures
or landscapes, but what they don’t know is the best cinematography is what they
only notice subconsciously. You feel great cinematography. The purpose for the ASC
Outstanding Achievement Award is to give cinematographers the recognition they
deserve, and maybe that will help to educate other people. The awards have evolved
and they seem to draw more attention ever year. The one thing we always hear from
people who attend for the first time is that the ASC Awards feel like an act of
love. It’s a celebration rather than a competition. It’s much more than an awards
dinner. It’s a whole weekend, including an open house and Internet chat with the
nominees and special award winners on the Saturday before the dinner. ICG: Where and when is the open house and who can
come? OWEN ROIZMAN: It is at the ASC clubhouse in Hollywood and it’s
open to the public. Besides the nominees and special award winners, there are
always many ASC members present. It’s a great opportunity for fans, other filmmakers,
camera crewmembers, students, faculty and journalists to meet some of the world’s
most talented cinematographers. Bill Butler (ASC), this year’s Lifetime Achievement
Award winner, will be there. Bill has a great body of work. We are also presenting
awards to Ralph Woolsey (ASC), who was a pioneer in television cinematography,
Roger Ebert and the great director Norman Jewison. There are also 17 nominees
in the television and feature film competitions. You can feel the spirit at the
open house. It’s fun to see them answer the students’ questions and share insights
with them. It’s a truly great inspirational, spirited weekend. ICG: Eric, as you look
ahead does the future seem daunting or exciting or both? ERIC ROIZMAN: It is very exciting. I know a lot of people who
are worried about the future of the business. They are nervous about their ability
to make a living and to keep working, and I understand those fears. They are not
imaginary. But I’m also very excited about the revolutions in technology and the
different types of media that I’m going to get a chance to use. ICG: Owen, do you get the Willy Loman question a
lot? You know the one that he kept asking his uncle in Death of a Salesman?
Do students and other young filmmakers ask you the secret of success, and how
do you answer them? OWEN ROIZMAN: There’s no secret to success and there are no shortcuts. It requires hard work. That’s the best way. I’ve always professed that in order to master the art, you have to learn the craft. The analogy I always use is the painter. The painter sits down at a blank canvas, has a great idea of what he wants to paint. If he doesn’t know how to apply the paints to the canvas, nothing is going to happen. So, he has to know technically how to paint before he can satisfy his artistic instincts. It’s the same with filmmaking. You have to know how to do it before you can do it. You can’t just like imagine it and it happens. It’s not magic…but it can be magical when it is done well.
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