Reality raises its ugly head.
Hall: [Laughs] Yes it does! Here we are making a movie, translating a real story into dramatic terms. We’re not thinking about where it actually took place. Did a particular conversation between Pre and his coach happen 25 yards over there, or here where the light is better? We had some struggles with that sort of thing, because Robert was very devoted to the people who really knew Pre those who ran with him, coached him, and were friends with him. Robert relied on them for veracity, because he wanted to be true to Pre’s story. But being true to any story does not necessarily mean filming it exactly the way it happened. You have to interpret it, using long or short lenses, composition, backlight, frontlight, overexposure, darkness whatever it takes in order to create the story. Robert and I had less-than-perfect relationship in this regard, because he was trying to be very true to reality. I’ve generally found that reality should not be involved in the creative process. You should know the reality, but then go ahead and use whatever dramatic storytelling is necessary to best represent it.
This film is reality once removed; Prefontaine has been converted into a character who’s more mythic than reality would allow. But let’s discuss some other specifics. I remember a beautiful nighttime scene set in Pre’s trailer where he and his girlfriend, Mary [Monica Potter], make love. There’s this wonderful light coming in through a window above them. What inspired you to light the sequence that way?
Hall: During the course of scouting locations for the film, we paid careful attention to how places were lit naturally. In the case of these little trailers, I noticed how shafts of light came in though the windows during the day, creating pools. I liked the effect and re-created it for our lovemaking scene by establishing a strong source outside. After the set was lit, someone said, ’Hey, that looks like daylight out there.’ I replied, ’No it isn’t it’s just a strong toplight.’ Out of the context of the scene, it might not have looked right to their eye. But the lovemaking in the scene was an influence on me. Lovemaking looks more romantic when it’s darker thus adding a sense of mystery but the pools gave these nice highlights to the actors’ skin. Again, this was inspired by what was there. I don’t like to make elaborate plans. I should add that the production design team can have a lot of influence on what I do, so I keep track of what they’re doing.
Your lighting always feels real, but in many shots, there’s often light in a particular place that draws the eye to the key element in the story. It’s as if you’re using light to make the audience understand where to look in the frame.
Hall: Again, it’s like working on a canvas. I look through the ground glass and when I’m putting things together, I’m filling in the important aspects of the story which have to be told in that shot. Whether that means keeping the characters dark and lighting the background, or whatever else, the story is telling me to hide or illuminate something.
I know this kind of stuff is hard to explain. I’ll play around with something until I feel it’s right. If something’s wrong, I get this sick feeling in my stomach that makes me upset. I wish we were on a stage and I could just have you re-create some of these scenes layer by layer!
Hall: I did that once for a class at USC. There were about 50 people watching while we worked with some actors and a director and I lit it. After I was done, somebody said, ’Okay, turn off all these lights and tell me what that one does.’ We went through each and every lamp. It was a pretty easy thing to explain, but that was after the fact. I don’t think about any of these things while I’m lighting a scene; I have no idea what I’m doing! I just try to feel it and illuminate this and hide that to add a gasp here and a surprise there. It’s a visual language that allows the audience to feel and understand the story.
It was almost exactly 50 years ago, in the spring of 1948, that I started studying cinema at USC. In the years since then I’ve tried to pay attention to life, and learn to tell stories with film language. Now, the language is 100 years old, but I don’t know if I’ve paid enough attention to the craft of cinematography as it has evolved and is evolving so rapidly. I don’t know how to pay attention to it. I’m so disinterested in computers and mechanical things shooting bluescreens and greenscreens. You can do some wonderful and magical things with that sort of technology to create stories, but I’m personally not very interested. I remember how I learned to do things a long time ago, and I’m going to hang onto that, which limits the kinds of stories I’m going to tell. I suspect you have some of this feeling as well.
It’s always great to experience the drama in front of the camera while it’s going on, rather than imagining how five [visual effects] elements are going to be composited together to create something. But like anything else, I think there is a tendency to overuse anything that’s new.
Hall: These new tools are handy I guess, but I’m still looking for those wonderful little stories about human and ethical dilemmas they’re sometimes hard to find.
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