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October 1998
Freeze
Frame
When I first read the script for A Simple Plan, I was fascinated
by the relationship between the two brothers and the story of what greed
does to people,” says cinematographer Alar Kivilo (Gotti, Rebound, The
Invaders). “My first instinct was to make the look simple, allowing
the characters to tell the story. Outwardly, the film is a thriller, but
at the heart of it, this is a dark psychological drama of one man’s descent
into hell. I knew the camera would have to take a back seat.”
Kivilo’s first reference for visual images was the movie In Cold Blood.
He watched the picture several times, before meeting with director Sam Raimi
(Darkman, Army of Darkness). “I brought a book of Robert Frank photos
with me for our initial meeting,” Kivilo recalls. “Sam pulled out color
Xeroxes of the locations that had already been scouted. Shot in overcast
light, the starkness and simplicity of the images struck me. I saw white
fields and black trees and hardly any other colors. It was a Japanese aesthetic,
woodcut prints. A real departure for Sam, who is known for his campy films
and extreme camera moves.”
The two discussed shooting the medium budget picture in anamorphic, briefly.
But budget, schedule and the extreme cold of the Midwestern winters were
a problem. “I wanted to carry two complete sets of lenses,” says Kivilo.
“This way, we could have one set for inside shots and one set for outside
shots. This would eliminate waiting because of condensation problems.
“Knowing the scarcity of anamorphic lenses and being less than three weeks
from the shoot, I opted for straight 1:85. Bob Harvey and the Chicago office
of Panavision were very helpful in putting together our package at such
short notice.”
The key decision for helping Kivilo achieve the stark look of the movie
was film stock. “I looked at Kodak’s 5274, 5279, 5245, 5246 and 5277.
“One thing became apparent very quickly. Because of the time of year,
the days would be short,” he continues. “That immediately eliminated 5245
and 5274. I needed a stock that would maximize the day. Although 5277 is
fast, it lacked the hard contrast that I was after.
“In the past, I have used 5279 for a whole picture. It was my original
thought to do the same for this one. However when I saw what the 5246 daylight
250 ASA stock did in snow, I decided to go with two stocks. My final choice
was 5246 for exteriors and daylight interiors and 5279 for night exteriors
and inside the location studio.”
The picture was set to be shot in and around Minneapolis, Minnesota. Supposedly,
this was the snow capital of the country. Unfortunately, as Kivilo’s plane
was landing in Minneapolis, all he saw outside the window was brown. El
Nino had struck. Minneapolis was having a somewhat snowless winter.
“So, the contingency plan went into place,” he recalls. “We moved production
to Ashland, Wisconsin. Here, we could shoot the snow scenes. It was necessary
not only for the whiteness of the location, but also for our schedule. Actor
Billy Bob Thornton had a cut-off date. We had to finish his shots in a definitive
time period.”
To make the schedule, in Ashland and in Minneapolis, production had a
full snow unit on hand. “Even when we were shooting in the minus 40 wind
chill factor of Ashland, we had blowers and snow machines and all the equipment
necessary,” Kivilo recalls. “The snow had to be protected all the time.
Once we did a take, the snow crew would run out with rakes and air blowers
and get rid of the footprints.” The need to eliminate footprints and move
equipment in a somewhat circumspect route, avoiding making marks on the
locations, became another schedule challenge.
“Of course, there were times when we needed very clear footprints in the
snow,” Kivilo adds. “The paranoia about someone seeing their footprints
leading up to the downed plane was a very real fear for our characters.
Because I’d opted for contrast in my stock, the footprints wouldn’t always
show on the screen. So, when we needed them, the prop man walked in the
actors’ footprints (backwards) spraying the natural shadow side with gray
paint.
“Luckily most of our shots were done in overcast light,” Kivilo continues.
“This allowed me to eliminate the need to bring in heavy movie lights for
the exteriors, complicating the logistics even more. Because the light would
bounce off the snow, I would use big solids for negative fill to shape the
light, adding just a bit of shiny card for the actors’ eyes. I wanted to
keep the snow very hot and retain a contrasty and stark look.”
While prepping for the picture, Kivilo grappled with the problem of how
he could maintain an overcast look for the whole show. “I requested we carry
a large crane with a huge silk, should we encounter direct sun,” he says.
Although he explained that smaller silks on flat land would not give enough
coverage, the larger equipment just didn’t fit into the budget.
“Thank heaven for the powers of CGI,” he says. “At one point, we had a
scene on a small country road bordered by two snow fields and a super hot
sun above. We had no choice but to shoot the scene in the sun and to try
to eliminate the blue sky in post. Since the schedule never allowed us the
luxury of waiting for light or weather, we just had to keep on shooting.
CGI also helped to even out inconsistencies caused by the amount of snow
falling from shot to shot,” he adds.
Since A Simple Plan is a cautionary tale of greed and relationships,
with a few twists and turns and Hitchcockian moments, Kivilo and Raimi used
the camera to enhance the story with simplicity. “Our opening sequence starts
with quiet, poetic landscapes. White snow. Black trees. A black crow flying
off.
“Symbolically, these are very fitting images,” he continues. “The crow
is a symbol of greed and becomes a strong reoccurring visual theme later
in the film. The choice of black and white foreshadows the battle between
the conscious and the unconscious, which is such an important element in
our story.”
“We then show evocative images of an abandoned farm, Hank (Bill Paxton)
and Jacob (Billy Bob Thornton) Mitchell’s family home. A red tractor is
parked in falling snow. A torn curtain flapping in the wind. These are innocent
shots, before their world falls apart.”
Alar Kivilo realized early on that the most powerful images in this picture
would be those where the camera was very far away, showing figures in a
landscape or right up close, registering the powerful performances of the
actors. A scene that provided the opportunity to do both takes place in
a feed mill where Hank is shown doing his mundane job of filling feed sacks
day after day and hour upon hour.
“We start with a close silhouette of Hank,” he recalls. “He then steps
into the light and close to camera as he seals the bag with an industrial
sewing device and then takes another bag and starts all over again. We were
using a 40mm Primo and tracked laterally back and forth with Bill Paxton
to produce this rhythmic, almost circular feel to the shot. When this shot
is repeated at the end of the movie, it is a very powerful moment to see
the pain and anguish in Hank’s eyes as he goes about this repetitive, almost
hypnotic activity.”
“We then put the short zoom on a remote head, high on the Enlouva crane,
and shot straight down at the tiny figure of Bill Paxton doing his tedious
job. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, we crane down and zoom in, closing in
on Hank and his world. We had to track in at the same time to maintain our
dead overhead view.”
Before Kivilo shoots a picture, he captures visual references of the location
on a video camera and then prints out interesting angles to study. While
scouting this mill, he noticed how the natural light enhanced the beauty
of the location. “I wanted to duplicate that light for our shots,” he says.
“So, to get strong North light through the loading bays, we punched 18Ks
through double silks outside. Inside, for the tighter shots, we used HMI
Pars through double bleached Muslins. Simple and effective.”
Even when doing important exteriors, Kivilo opted for simplicity. At times
it was tough to keep that simplicity when moving inside. “The pivotal point
in the story is when the three men discover the downed plane containing
several million dollars,” he says. “Our downed plane was placed in a natural
bowl outside of Minneapolis.
“This was a perfect 360 degree cyc,” he continues. “The staging area was
shadowed, giving us the required overcast look. At one point Sam wanted
to do a very high, down angle tracking shot of the men walking through the
woods showing black crows perched on branches in the foreground. We scouted
the nearby roads at the top of the bowl, which would give us easy access
to set up a long track and a high crane.
“Unfortunately, the scrubby sides of those roads didn’t have the right
look,” he adds. “I had gone through great pains throughout the picture with
the help of my operator Monty Rowan and the prop men to trim and prune all
vegetation so that it would be in line with our sparse ‘Japanese’ look.
Finally, I found a location with twisted black trees and dead limbs that
had fallen into the snow. Perfect for a bird’s eye view, but it was deep
in the heart of the bowl and only accessible by foot. When I turned to my
key grip, Joey Dianda, he said, ‘no problem!’ He and his crew did a wonderful
job of building a big platform in the middle of the woods, so we could do
a series of wonderful tracking crane shots with the Enlouva and the Cam-Remote.”
When the three men find the downed plane, Hank thinks the pilot might
still be alive. He crawls into the plane, which is balanced on a fallen
tree. “Inside, we have a Hitchcockian shock moment,” says Kivilo. “There
are two crows inside the plane and they attack Bill Paxton.”
To shoot these sequences, production had two full planes. There was one
that was placed into the forest during preproduction so it would be covered
in snow and another plane with a finished interior for the stage. The stage
plane was attached to a gimbal, about five feet off the ground. “As Bill
crawls to the front of the plane, it tilts down. When he moves toward the
back, it tilts in that direction.
“Since we were using an actual plane there was a limit to how much of
the plane’s walls could be removed before it became structurally unsound,”
says Kivilo. “It was a very small, cramped shooting space.”
Kivilo needed to match these interiors to the footage already shot in
the forest. The art department built a set with real trees and a painted
backdrop. “We hung white griffolyns in the ceiling and bounced two 18Ks
and a bunch of HMI PARs off of this to match our overcast look,” he explains.
“At first, we wanted to see the breath coming from our actors’ mouths.
Finding a refrigerated place was out of the question. So, we tried leaving
the doors open and using HMI and fluorescent lights to keep the temperature
down, but the weather in Minneapolis was too warm!”
Kivilo had to be satisfied with frosted windows, dark silhouettes, and
sketchy lighting. “We shot most of Paxton’s attack on a 150mm Primo. At
one point, we had two real crows, one behind Paxton and one in front. They
were tapping at the trainer’s hand. With Bill flailing his hands and the
compression of the long lens, it appeared as if they were really attacking
him.
“We then did shots of puppet crows attacking a real Bill Paxton, and then
real crows attacking an animatronic Bill. Cut together, we have a very horrific
moment, right out of The Birds.”
The real horrors were still to come. As soon as the men decide to keep
the money, things start going wrong. “I think one of the most difficult
weeks on the picture occurred when we shot a long, tension-filled night
scene where Hank forces Jacob to trick his best friend Lou into confessing
on tape to a murder that Hank had committed. When Lou realizes his best
friend has betrayed him, he goes berserk. Jacob ends up killing Lou and
Hank blows away Lou’s wife. This scene had everything,” recalls Kivilo.
“Incredibly intense performances…..weapons being dis- charged…..blood…..makeup
applia-nces…..exploding props…..shotgun blast.....stunts with a double.
A real smorgasbord.”
They shot in an old abandoned house which Patricia Von Brandenstein and
her team had converted into a “wonderful set,” praises Kivilo. “It was dark
and dingy. It was also bloody cold. We had to use propane heaters between
takes to heat the house. Once the violence erupts, the scene spills out
onto the porch. This forced us into split days.
“We tented the porch and all the windows so we could shoot certain shots
during the day and then we would have to pull the tents away when we shot
night for night. At one point, we shot a fairly wide master towards the
house and the porch during the day, but inside the tent. To achieve a blue
moonlight ambience for that shot, I just lifted up one corner of the tent
and let a little bit of the daylight ambient light in.
“Most of the lighting came from shallow soft boxes mounted into the low
ceilings. We used two cameras throughout. The scene was such an odd mixture
of dealing with dark human moments and very detailed technical considerations.
Very draining for everybody.”
In the aftermath of the shooting, Billy Bob Thornton’s character hides
in the cellar. He is devastated. Jacob starts out as a gentle, not too bright,
innocent soul. As the picture progresses he starts to lose his innocence
and finds himself in a world that he really doesn’t want to live in. “This
scene is a pivotal moment in Jacob’s character arc,” explains Kivilo. “We
only shot two shots for this scene. A very wide master showing Jacob sitting
on the steps in the dark cellar. A light is turned on and Hank comes down
the steps and crouches before Jacob and starts to coach him on what to say
when the police arrive.
“We then start a very slow 180-degree dolly shot with a 50mm Primo that
starts with Jacob over Hank’s shoulder and slowly works its way around to
Hank over Jacob’s shoulder. Then it slowly pulls focus to an ECU of Jacob’s
rim-lit profile.
“The lighting setup was very elemental,” Kivilo continues. “Basically,
I used a daylight half-corrected KinoFlo through a frame to key Billy Bob
and rim Paxton. Paxton’s warm key from a double bounced 9-Lite initially
functions as Billy Bob’s rim.
“I think a shot like this is pure cinema,” he says. “Everything has been
distilled down to it’s barest elements and in doing so, exposes the true
and raw emotion behind the scene. In ECU, Jacob starts to repeat after Hank
what to say to the police, but in his face, the lighting and the composition,
we see that he isn’t going along with Hank anymore and that he has reached
an emotional crossroad.
“I think economy in the imagery is very important,” Kivilo adds.
One of Alar Kivilo’s favorite shots in the film involves a scene where
Jacob sits at the bar mourning Lou’s death. “The shot in itself is nothing
special,” he says. “We simply track down the bar and get progressively closer
and closer to Jacob. There is no dialogue. Only music. What we did was give
Billy Bob Thornton an uncluttered plain and honest frame to act in. And
it’s all in his eyes. The scene has such clarity. The audience knows exactly
what is going on and realizes later, at the end of the film, when Jacob
tells Hank that he doesn’t want to live in this world anymore, that this
is one of the scenes that sets up the believability of the climactic end
scene!”
It is normal that in the editing process the story is tightened and some
beautiful images are lost forever. It is quite rare, however, for an image
to be lost forever—twice. “We did a scene where Hank and Jacob are arguing,”
says Kivilo. “It starts off in a bar during the day. We shot a beautiful
50/50 two-shot in silhouette. The argument continues outside the bar. We
track with Hank and Jacob in a wide-shot that shows the little town they
live in. As they come to the end of the block, it is revealed that the last
building has a white wall and a little snow-covered plot of land beside
it with a couple of black trees.
“The shot was framed so it looked like they had returned to the forest
where all their troubles had begun. It was very effective. We never got
to see the dailies on that particular shot, because the footage never showed
up at the lab. It was lost in transit. Our production coordinator tracked
the missing footage for weeks. It was lost forever. Later in the schedule
we reshot that sequence, but it is still not in the movie!
Even though economy was important to the production, there were times
when shots like these were important. It is never thought that they won’t
make the final cut of the film. “That’s part of the process,” Kivilo admits.
“Sometimes, things just have to be lost.
“Still, we give everything our best. We try as many ways as possible,
to conserve time, so we can get those beautiful shots. While we were shooting
in the bowl, for example, where no lighting was required, my gaffer Elan
Yaari had a chance to slip away to the studio and finetune the pre-rig on
one of our important sets.”
The Mitchell house was built in the studio in two parts. There was the
main floor set with a finished exterior entrance way and a separate set
for the upstairs bedrooms. Outside the windows were huge Rosco photographic
backings showing the neighborhood that had been established in exterior
shots of the house. “In the past I’ve only worked with transparency backings,
which often need a frame of bobbinet (white gauze) to make them less present,”
says Kivilo. “The Rosco backings have a texture and a softness already built
in. For daylight, you front light them and for night you backlight them.
“For the front light and general ambience we hung silked space lights
all around the set. For nighttime, we rigged a row of Nooklites but ended
up using small individual Tungsten units to light up the windows in the
backing. Then we surrounded the set with banks of half-blue Maxi-brutes
punching through muslin to provide a soft directional ‘daylight’ in the
sets. On the greenbays that the pre-rig grips had hung, we strategically
placed some 10Ks and a couple of 20Ks. Over the set, each room had a large
soft box. Then all of this was put on a dimmer so that we could dial up
various lighting configurations. It was quite huge.”
For Kivilo, Hank Mitchell’s house presented some interesting challenges.
“Patricia, in keeping with one of the visual motifs of the film, built a
beautiful set that was essentially white. Even the carpet was white. There
was no escaping the snow! Night shots were the most difficult to control.
I love using soft light but in this case it was very hard to keep from bouncing
all around.
“I ended up devising a system of lighting with beveled mirrors. I would
blast a PAR can or a HMI PAR into a corner of the set that the grips would
black off with solids. This way, no stray light would bounce around and
then I would selectively aim little splashes of light wherever I wanted
with these little mirrors.
“The light splashes had a very organic quality to them, which I liked
very much.” Kivilo put this technique to work in a scene where Hank and
Sarah (Bridget Fonda) are giving their newborn baby a bath in the kitchen
sink. “The shot starts off with a beautiful close-up of this wet, gurgling
baby. As the baby is lifted out of the sink by Bill Paxton, the camera pulls
back to reveal Bridget receiving the baby.
“It is a moment of domestic bliss in all of the madness. Suddenly the
doorbell rings and Paxton leaves frame to go see who it is. It is the sheriff!
Bridget moves forward into extreme close-up as she listens in on their conversation.
Real tension. The baby was lit with some soft half-blue light coming from
the kitchen window. When the camera pulled back into the two shot, I had
Bridget and Bill rimmed with a four-bank Tungsten KinoFlo and keyed with
a very soft low China ball.
“When Bridget steps into the foreground she also steps out of the soft
secure light of the kitchen and into a moody, dappled patch of mysterious
light kicked in by one of those beveled mirrors.”
Hank and Sarah’s struggle to live a normal life in the wake of all the
terrible things that have happened, gets increasingly more difficult.”We
shot a great scene inside a local barber shop on location,” says Kivilo.
“It is an easy going moment that has an underlying context of paranoia.
Bill’s character is sitting in the chair, getting a hair cut. The local
sheriff comes by and makes casual conversation. In the middle of the local
gossip, he says the FBI is coming the next day and they want to talk to
Hank and Jacob. They might know something about a missing plane.
“Paxton’s character is trapped—emotionally and physically,” Kivilo continues.
“To show this, we focused on Bill’s face, using the 40mm lens. As he sits
there, he tries to turn around to face the sheriff, as he moves around in
the background. However, the barber won’t let him move. At one point he
even grabs Bill’s head and traps him with his hand.
“To emphasize the terror, we are relentlessly playing the shot off Bill’s
face, as the sheriff moves freely. When the Sheriff leaves, we push in a
bit and play off his face even closer. Having no cuts this gave the mundane
an underlying sense of tension—the Hitchcockian moment we all wanted for
specific parts of this film.”
To light the sequence, Kivilo kept with the simplicity style. He left
the exterior over-exposed and used an 18K as a splash of light on the back
wall of the shop. “I keyed Bill with two daylight, two-foot four bank KinoFlos
through a silk and had an overhead soft box inside, and that was it,” he
explains.
“When you are doing a picture where the characters propel the story, it
is important to keep things as simple as possible,” he says. In A Simple
Plan , everything depended on the audience being able to see the stages
of terror and the degrading of the relationships, once money enters the
picture.
“At the end of the film, when all is lost and Hank and Sarah are back
at their everyday routine, we did a very tight tracking shot of Bridget
Fonda, as she re-shelves books in the library. We shot through the dark
back of the bookcase, framing Bridget’s face in the silhouetted gaps where
there are no books. As she starts to re-shelve the books, she covers up
the gaps blocking out our view of her, until we track to the next gap and
the same thing happens. She is dead to the world and is being buried alive.
“In most of my films, I’ve tended to find a progression of visuals to
emphasize the story. They will often start one way and end another. The
lighting and the camera will build with the story. But here, because the
characters were going through such extreme psychological changes, we decided
to keep the photography on an even keel.
“It is interesting to note that the film ends with some of the exact frames
of the abandoned farm that we saw in the title sequence. Because of what
the characters have gone through, a totally new value is assigned to those
shots. They feel different, evoking new emotions and yet physically they
haven’t changed from when we first saw them!
“Whether we were doing shots in the white snow, Hitchcockian moments inside
homes or downed planes, formal camera work and simple lighting seemed to
work better.
“We tried to give this midwestern psychological drama a Japanese woodcut
look. I think we succeeded. We’ll see when the audience reacts to what we
put on the screen,” he concludes.
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