by Daniel Larios
The Cameo Cinema is a small but beloved theatre in St. Helena, Napa County. The fine old building recently celebrated its Centennial Celebration this past May, attracting the valley’s finest to come out and express their appreciation for the historic landmark. For this special evening the theatre’s impresario, Cathy Buck arranged for several esteemed wineries along with The Culinary Institute of America to cater the event, and included a film historian who praised the incredible milestone the Cameo shares with few other movie palaces. It was clear that the Cameo is a deeply cherished part of the community for the people who call Napa their home. What better time or place then to premier a brand new documentary celebrating the virtues and mysticism of that home. The evening in fact culminated with the very first screening of, Napa Valley Dreams, a documentary short produced and shot entirely in the Napa Valley. The film ties cinematically ties the thoughts and dreams of the area’s people with its beautiful landscape, capturing the unabashed adoration the locals have for their highly esteemed land. Director Rodney Vance masterfully combines captivating imagery, enthralling sound, and remarkable personalities to create a poetic film both ethereal and effervescent in its tribute to the truly special relationship between Napa and its people.
Unlike most films devoted to the local, Napa Valley Dreams does not focus on the famous agriculture byproduct of the area (wine). Instead, the film does a fair amount of work introducing the audience to the diversity of characters that inhabit the region. For instance, featured in the film is a humorous southern landowner presented in front of his geyser, as well as a solemn army veteran shown at his rehabilitation home. The two men are very different, yet both have reasons to be tied to the valley. Vineyard owners and master chefs speak of their craft, what it means to them and how Napa is the right place for them to lay roots. Thrill enthusiasts zoom along zip lines and jump through the lush forests on mountain bikes, enjoying the marvelous geography the valley offers. Children play in the vegetation while gardeners plant new seeds in the nourishing soil. Artists off all kinds, from dancers to glassblowers, find their inspiration in Napa’s vibrant colors and natural wonder. Even the late, great Ray Manzarek is seen (in one of his final recorded interviews) detailing his journey from his UCLA days, to his time as a member of the iconic rock group The Doors, to his home in Napa Valley. The various stories connect together to form one collective idea – that there is an inherent connection between the valley and its people. And this is what is at the heart of Napa Valley Dreams.
The stories are laced together through stunning cinematography, courtesy of John Tagamolila and Christopher Rusin. Napa Valley Dreams varies heavily between intimate close-ups and sweeping landscapes. Some images are heavy on texture and other complexities, playing with focus and planes of action, such as when the chocolatier smashes her latest delicacy with a wooden spoon. Other images are as simple as a glass swirling rich red wine, with nothing but grey sky filling in the background. Rusin, a time-lapse photographer and himself a subject of the documentary, displays his talents by capturing the transformation of the valley over time from various gorgeous vantage points, presenting no a scene that is less than enticing, paying just homage to the beauty of Napa.
But visuals alone are not the only source of entertainment in this film. A sensory experience like Napa Valley Dreams demands an equally evocative score, and composer Scott Greer provides just that. With organic sounds that subtly heighten the emotions, Greer masterfully complements every image and storyline with the appropriate tones. An equally important factor in an excellent composition is to know when to let the moment speak solely for itself. The film is an excellent example of this on multiple occasions, notably when a climber scales a mountainside. Here the score helps the audience get involved with the struggle, yet allows the intensity of the climb to stand-alone. Once the climber reaches the top and stretches his arms out victoriously it is at that moment that the score swells, leading us into the next sequence. It is these nuances within the Greer’s score that adds richness to the film with its harmonious, meditative subtlety.
The glue between the various components in filmmaking is the editing, and Napa Valley Dreams required a substantial amount. As the editors, Robert Schafer and John Tagamolila intertwined and interlocked a variety of stories and images together, artfully confectioning a whole. They wisely paced the film, allowing the viewer to soak in every image as they slowly move from one to another. On a rare instance they craftily deviate from this relaxed pace, such as when a bicyclist crashes into the screen. We cut sharply to black on the collision, fade back in and the leisurely progression resumes. The overall story, or path of the film is laced together with stream-of-conscious speeches. This is a method that normally doesn’t translate well to film, but the sparse distribution of the voices allows the viewer to focus on the image and allows the words to supplement the mise-en-scene. The film is edited to entrance; it is not an edge-of-your-seat film but a back-of-your-seat, eyes-wide-open one.
I came in to the theatre that night in May with the understanding that Napa Valley Dreams is a highly atmospheric film about the Napa Valley, a region with which I am admittedly not at all familiar. Essentially I knew the area has many vineyards and nothing else. I had even less of an idea as to who the people of Napa are or why they live in the region. I am furthermore not the kind of viewer to be necessarily swept into the personal appeal of watching the film in Napa on its debut. Yet Napa Valley Dreams did manage to sweep me in many ways. It not only opened my eyes to the valley and its people, it offered an understanding to how Napa stirs a multitude of sentiments in the locals and allows them to bloom.
Many documentaries make their appeal to the audience with heavy logos. Napa Valley Dreams is pure pathos, and unapologetically so. Not does it need to be apologetic; the film wears its heart on its sleeve and that’s what makes even someone as unfamiliar and unconnected with the content as myself amazed. On the other hand, I knew going in the film was airy and minimalist with speech. To someone expecting orthodox filmmaking the film may be abstruse. Vance’s approach is not traditional, but it works for this film and even more importantly, I feel nothing else would. The married elements of the film give a sense of wonder, something great filmmaking should aspire to; Napa Valley Dreams, like the Napa Valley to its people, provides that experience.
A Behind the Scenes Editing Experience
by Erin Hotchkiss
Editor’s Note: One of the side effects of working in the film industry is that you forget how exciting it can be for an outsider to get a behind the scenes peek at how movies are put together. It’s not until you get the perspective of a new comer that you’re reminded just how special an insider look can be. Fortunately, I recently began teaching at a university and now vicariously experience the thrill of discovery virtually every day. Here is one such experience as told through the eyes of one of my senior students. I hope she holds onto that sense of wonder and excitement a lot longer than I did. If she does, I’m sure it will make her a better filmmaker, one that doesn’t lose touch with the magic that is in the very nature of the art form. Or at least, it should be. Too many of us regular industry types lose sight of that, and that is probably exactly what’s wrong with the industry today – a lack of wonder.
Because of an extraordinary opportunity that reveled itself I got the chance to witness a professional sound designing session at a postproduction studio with two Academy award-winning directors as they worked on the final stages of their latest film. How I got there basically consists of being in the right place at the right time, seeing an opportunity, and volunteering for it. It could be a case of beginners luck, or just not knowing any better that I shouldn’t ask for such privileges. What did I have to lose? So, I asked if I could observe a part of the process of postproduction, and the answer was yes.
Upon first entering the studio, there appears to be a typical office-like desk at the front. There is a bunch of hustle and bustle as various guys are eating breakfast at the miniature kitchen off to the side of the place. When there’s a kitchen in the office, you know a lot of time is spent in that work place. So much time that breaking to go out for food would mean losing valuable time that could be spent at work. Yet another example of how time is observed as a commodity in Hollywood.
After wandering in my naive little intern way, I was able to find the two directors I was there to help. I was led into a large theater room, but this was no ordinary theater. There were five stations where in three of the positions sat sound designers. One was in charge of the background and the sound effects. Another was in charge of all the dialogue. The third was in charge of the music. For little me, it was a sight to behold the vastness of the surround sound that encased the room. The sights of the posh recliner chairs and couch made the arrangement that much more thrilling. Now it only took me a few seconds to realize why, although the splendor of it all might make it look good, those comfy recliner chairs that sat right smack in the center of it all actually needed to be comfy. Because those two directors sat there for hours knit picking at every single little minuscule sound you could possibly hear to make the film feel authentic.
At first, I was fascinated about the process and the reasons the directors gave the sound designers for the changes they wanted to make. However, after a while, I started to get irritated, like really irritated. They would go over the same scenes over and over again, making changes where I didn’t understand or even hear the difference. It was only when the scene played as a whole did I get it. I then realized from their nit picking that the devil is in the details. Academy award-winners don’t have special powers that mystically allow them to know what will be perfect. What they do have is the determination and confidence to know what they like, and they aren’t willing to settle – ever. Patience, endurance and, of course, persistence are key elements when creating a movie, in every single element. Those directors literally were giving their all to make this movie the best that they could possibly make it.
I was truly fascinated by the great deal of collaboration that was involved in the sound-designing studio. Yes, the directors definitely had their say, but once the team (the directors and the three sound designers) worked through a scene they would all meet in a circle and get out those old pads of paper and write notes on what they thought needed to change to improve the authenticity of the film. Everyone had a say and gave suggestions, valuable suggestions, which made the movie what it is today. I have to say that the sound designers are absolute artists. The film truly came to life during the sound design making a 2d surface spring off the screen as the sound enveloped me.
Once the directors had meticulously examined each section of the film, whether or not they were ready, the producers and sound-designing supervisors wanted to check on the progress. Yes, even Academy award-winning directors have to answer to someone. Right up until the end the directors were using every last minute, trying to make changes, asking for more time in the studio (which the producers inevitably said no to). The situation brought to mind the image of me asking my mother for more cookies after dinner. You’ve got to ask even though you know that more times than not the answer is going to be no.
At last the film was screened and I finally got to see all of the work come together as a whole. It was truly remarkable and the big wigs were satisfied. The directors were a bit disappointed that they couldn’t put in all that they wanted in the film. In those final moments, it was a bit bittersweet, as the directors basked in their complete project. They knew their movie was coming to an end, and endings are always difficult in Hollywood. What was most shocking to me was the directors were talking about how worried they were about getting another job. But this is Hollywood; I guess there really are no guarantees. All you have is the love of the craft, which pushes you from one project to the next. At the time, the team had the fortune of getting Lovelace into the Sundance Film Festival and they were eagerly awaiting the audience response. And then what after that? There are no guarantees in Hollywood, except the knowledge of knowing you either did or didn’t do your best. And in this case there was reason for great satisfaction indeed.