Various colored bulbs, ranging from standard 60- and 100-watt units to 300-, 500- and even 1000-watt fixtures, were all wired to dimmers. To color them, the crew dipped them in a dye solution made by Rosco; the dye was rated for 40-watt bulbs, however, so the crew had to take extensive safety precautions to use them at the high temperatures. A Hudson Sprayer filled with brown liquid was used to coat the glass windows of the victims’ cells, so the viewer isn’t really sure what he or she is looking at until the camera cuts to the interiors. "The [different scenarios] look really intriguing through the obscured glass," Laufer notes.
To lend a slightly unconventional look to a pair of real-world night exteriors (establishing shots of Catherine’s house and Stargher’s house, both practical locations), Laufer added a 1/2 Plus Green to a Fisher Moonlight hung over the structures. Designed to light cars, the Fisher is a large, rectangular softlight measuring 10’ x 20’ that comes with its own crane. Laufer’s crew fitted the unit with daylight-balanced lamps, and the addition of the Plus Green gel lent those scenes a blue-green quality.
Another interesting real-world setting was the giant water tank in Stargher’s underground bunker. This is the "cell" of the movie’s title, where the madman puts his victims after they are kidnapped; the tank slowly fills up with water, and the victim drowns. Ball explains that these scenes were lit with four 4-bank Hydroflex underwater fluorescent fixtures rigged atop the tank on a pulley system, as well as a few stationary fluorescent bulbs in the tank. He adds, "The frame of the tank was metal, and Tom Nead came up with the idea of a magnet rig to which we could clamp the fluorescents."
Another memorable sequence is a seduction scene between Catherine and Peter Novak (Vince Vaughn), an FBI agent on Stargher’s trail. Catherine is trapped inside the killer’s mind when Novak enters it to try to rescue her. The sequence takes place in Stargher’s den, in what looks to be a self-contained room but which actually is one leg of two wide hallways that intersect in the middle, forming a giant cross. A huge, dome-shaped ceiling covers the middle of the set with a hole, some 6’ in diameter, cut into the middle, directly above the center of the cross.
Laufer wanted a single, very bright source of light shining through the opening in the dome, but because the top of the dome almost touched the stage perms, there wasn’t enough room to hang a light. "The only solution I could come up with was to shine Xenons into a 10-foot, front-surfaced mirror," he says. "By putting a front surface on the mirror, the glass doesn’t heat up as much, which could lead to cracking." (As an added safety precaution for the actors performing underneath, chicken wire was spread across the dome opening. There was some speculation that the mesh might create patterns in the light, but it didn’t.)
The specially built mirror was suspended from chain motors and inclined at an angle. Three 7K Xenons sat on the floor, focused straight into it. Although they were not used here to simulate sunlight, Laufer notes, "Xenons are an exceptionally good sun source, and they are much happier pointing up than down. Due to the design of the bulb, if you point them down the gases start swirling and you get a lot of flicker in the beam. If you need sunlight, which by definition is pointing down, you have to put in a mirror." The big disadvantage to a front-surfaced mirror is that without a protective coating it begins tarnishing and can’t be cleaned. (While the main light source was the mirror, a few additional units several 12K tungstens and Par cans were used to light other areas of the set.)
The seduction scene opens with Catherine reclining on a king-sized bed which is internally lit with dozens of 211 globes encased in round seashells, some woven into the canopy of the bed, others covering the bedposts. Suddenly, Stargher appears, grabs Novak, straps him onto a nearby table and proceeds to eviscerate him. It is one of the film’s grisliest scenes, and Laufer purposely shot it overexposed to give it an unreal, almost silent-movie quality, which lets the audience know it is happening only in Novak’s mind.
But overexposure alone can’t account for Stargher’s glittering, gold appearance or the scene’s shimmering, surreal look. This was the result of a bleach-bypass print and a look that Laufer mapped out with colorist Stefan Sonnenfeld of Company 3. Sonnenfeld, with whom Laufer has a long-standing relationship, did straight-ahead transfers onto videotape, then sent the tapes to Toronto postproduction house Toybox, which matched his work in HD. (Toybox scanned and color-treated all of the film’s inner-world segments of the film see sidebar on facing page.)
Traditionally, scanning has been done for the purpose of creating visual effects (or to remove wires and fix scratches). The Cell was a different situation. "The majority of the footage we were scanning involved no visual effects and was done strictly to affect the look," states Laufer, who says he relied heavily on the expertise and knowledge of visual-effects supervisor Kevin Tod Haug, whose credits include Fight Club and The Game.
As for the bleach-bypass process, Laufer observes, "When people think [of special processes], they think of Seven [which was photographed by Darius Khondji, ASC, AFC and utilized Deluxe’s CCE silver-retention process on a number of its prints see "Soup du Jour," AC Nov. ’98]. But for a different look by the same cinematographer, watch Delicatessen. If you expose bleach-bypass normally that is, if you expose the film and then you skip bleach [on the negative] it will get dark. If you overexpose it, it will stay light but increase the contrast and change the colors, which to me is just as interesting a look." In this instance, Laufer didn’t actually overexpose the negative because he performed the bypass at the print stage rather than on the original negative.
Some impressive CGI work, including the horse being sliced into see-through sections, was handled by the Paris postproduction house Buf. "Buf uses a kind of CG that’s based on images," says Haug. "It’s called Image-Based Modeling and Rendering. Buf requires lit still photographs or sometimes live-action plates to do the kind of modeling they do. They don’t actually light the stuff; they render something that’s already been lit by the cinematographer." Other scenes were rendered in traditional 3-D CGI by Toybox, including a slow-motion sequence in which Catherine falls through a series of subterranean chambers.
Reflecting on the seismic changes that digital technology is bringing to The Celluloid world, Laufer warns that the role of the cinematographer is changing. "The digital intermediate is coming. Right now we have the best of both worlds: we are originating and distributing on film, but the opportunity exists for a digital step in the middle. Soon, however, either the capturing or the distribution will become digital. I don’t know which will happen first, but if it’s the capturing, then the cinematographer’s role will be entirely redefined. And I don’t think that’s good news."
Cooperation with the visual-effects world is crucial, not only to facilitate the filmmaking process but also to ensure that the director of photography remains in the loop. "The digital process needs the input of the director of photography at many points along its course," submits Laufer. "If you simply shoot the footage, walk away and then come back for the grading session, you’ve given up control of the look."
The cameraman’s contract provided for only two paid days to grade The Cell, but in spite of that Laufer spent months of his own time working with Haug and the folks at both Toybox and Buf. "I felt privileged to do it," he insists. "Next time, I hope to be paid for it as well!"