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lime green walls, plastered with magazine pictures and newspaper clippings,
seemed to be closing in on me. Having spent two-plus hours in Garfield
High School’s Media Lab with nothing to do, I now felt more claustrophobic
than usual in that windowless prison cell of a room. I looked up at the
clock – it was after five. I had not realized when I signed up to
make a movie, months earlier, just how many long hours of toil –
scheduling, waiting to shoot, shooting, and editing – it would require.
The main problem was that our store of equipment was extremely limited,
thanks to our school film program’s almost nonexistent funding.
Thus, the only video camera on school grounds was currently being used
to record an interview in the next room, so our crew – director,
actors, and all – had no choice but to wait for the camera. Around
5:30, my friend and co-star said what I had been nervously thinking for
a while now: “You know this movie’s never actually going to
get finished.”
“It is,” I replied, trying my best to sound confident and
keep morale up. “I hope.”
Eventually, we did manage to film that scene, and wrapped it up just in
time for dinner. But to accommodate the busy schedules of the actors and
filming equipment, it took another month to finish all filming; we often
had to spend up to eight hours a day editing to complete it in time for
the schoolwide film festival. When it did premiere at the festival two
months later – the only “beginning” movie selected for
the features category – I valued even more the outstanding ovation
it received from the audience.
That first movie I made, Cheat Sheet (named for the legendary answer key
the plot followed), served as a tremendous learning experience for me.
Of course I learned the basics of filmmaking, like how to screenwrite,
compose shots, and edit footage. But the most difficult part of the whole
process – and the part that taught me the most – was working
successfully in a group of strong-minded filmmakers, each with their own
vision of the final product. In retrospect, I realize that our frequent
arguments only improved the final cut of our film; somehow our bickering
led us to find a happy balance among all our individual ideas.
Inspired by the euphoria I felt for my accomplishment with Cheat Sheet,
which swept over me every time I nailed a take or strung together a sequence
in the editing room, I could scarcely wait to start up another film project.
My opportunity came this fall, when the teacher for whom I had made Cheat
Sheet invited me to join the school’s film crew for my senior year.
Now, three months into the school year, I have embarked on an ambitious
half-hour movie project as co-producer and lead actor. All of the stress
of production has returned, and I’m grateful for the lesson I learned
in teamwork: it has proven even more invaluable this time around. Yet
I also feel the familiar excitement of moviemaking growing. Having learned
from my mistakes on Cheat Sheet, I hope to present an even better film
at this year’s film festival.
In my opinion, film is the ultimate art. I love writing, drawing, photography,
and music; film lets me combine all of these mediums to create a masterpiece.
But the artistry is not the only reason I have found myself drawn to film;
I also see it as an intriguing way to visually tell stories that are important
to me. Recently I’ve learned more about my family heritage, which
has presented me with several personally resonant movie ideas. Although
the inspiring events relate directly to my history, similar stories –
of immigration, persecution, and tradition – have affected millions
of people across the globe. If I could make a film based on these stories
that all these viewers could meaningfully relate to in their own way,
it would be a tremendous achievement not just for me but for the entire
world of film.
I also hope to connect my interest in film to my foremost passion, wildlife
conservation. Though recent films like March of the Penguins and An Inconvenient
Truth have drawn more public attention to environmental issues, I still
believe that this critical issue is vastly underrepresented onscreen.
There are countless film-worthy stories in this realm that need to be
told, from the battles between poachers and park rangers in Africa’s
wildlife reserves to the endangered gray wolf’s uneasy coexistence
with ranchers in the Rockies. If I could capture just a few of these stories
on film, whether through drama or documentary, it would essentially be
my dream come true.
The main reason I am constantly enthralled by filmmaking is because it
offers me great latitude for creativity. Through screenwriting, visuals,
and acting, I can explore deep emotional and moral territory. In fact,
this is the target of my next project, which I plan to write, direct,
and act in later this year, and which will delve into situations without
a clear right and wrong. I can also take the audience on a thrilling adventure,
or make them shiver in their seats, all through the medium of film. The
possibilities are infinite.
However many movies I make, I will always build on my experiences from
past projects to create a final product better than anything I’ve
done before. In the movie’s technical execution, I can use technology
to refine both the filming and editing process; to heighten its visual
appeal, I can experiment with colors, lights, and camera angles; in its
creative aspect, I can come up with more captivating stories and scripts.
My film education, which began with Cheat Sheet in the confines of Garfield
High School’s lime green Media Lab, will never be complete; but
through USC’s prestigious School of Cinematic Arts, I hope to take
it to a new level.
This essay was written by Alex Rudee, Garfield Class
of 2007, Pomona College Class of 2011.
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