Some Thoughts on the Future of 360° Films

          Over the course of this term, whenever I told people that I was working on a 360° film, I got a variety of responses, varying from “What’s that?” to “That’s cool!” to the more serious “Do you think 360° is the future of filmmaking?”

          The short answer to that last question is: I don’t know. The long answer is something like this…

         When I started Writing 420 in September, I’d never even watched a 360° film with a headset, let alone made a 360° film. I immediately found the concept of working in 360° appealing, though. While some people in the class were hesitant about virtual reality and would have rather worked on a flat film, I was eager to explore this new technology. I didn’t know if it would turn out well. I was sure there would be less trial and error (and likely a better final result) if we worked on a traditional film, but the idea of 360° filmmaking was exciting. I’m intrigued by new technologies. I like exploring new mediums for the sake of exploring the medium, not necessarily because it’s the easiest or even the best one.

         Then we began working on the script for the film, and I realized how little we as creators understand about this new medium. Coming up with a concept that not only works in 360°, but actively thrives in 360°, that ideally depends on 360°, is a daunting task. Did we achieve this? Maybe not. Maybe no one has achieved it yet. But we experimented, and with such a new medium, that’s all we can do. After decades of flat filmmaking, it’s hard to transfer what we know about visual storytelling to this new medium. It’s difficult to tell a story when we can’t tell the audience where to look. It’s difficult to make something so new seem useful instead of gimmicky. And it’s difficult to know how to use a medium to its full potential when we’ve never seen it used to its full potential – we have no models to follow.

         After doing camera operation and editing on our 360° film, I’m more intrigued than ever about the future of this medium. At the moment, 360° is mostly used for documentary and video games. Documentaries rely less on the filmmaking techniques that 360° lacks: camera direction, close ups, cuts… Video games are made for the kind of immersion and viewer participation that 360° provides. In fact, one could argue that 360° films are forcibly bridging the gap between film and games: 360° films demand viewer interaction (even if that interaction is just looking around) in a way that traditional films do not. Is the future of narrative 360° a hybrid of gaming and filmmaking? Drawing the viewer in to participate in the story, the way video games already do? As 360° films become more common, will we see less of a divide between what is considered a video game and what is considered a film? Or will 360° filmmaking take a turn that we can’t even imagine yet, carving out its own space as a medium apart from both films and games?

Camera's and Unlimited Immersion

         Three things to know before you pick up a 360-degree camera: 1) Know how to hide… very well. 2) Don’t push the wrong buttons on the camera. 3) Learn to get tricky with your set, not your frame.

         Well, obviously there is a lot more to know when it comes to the emerging field of 360-degree media. However this should give you an extremely basic start. Overall I don’t think I’ve learned as much on a film set as I did on Knot For Sale. This film pushed us all to think outside of the box when telling a story.

           Working as a Camera Assistant on set was abnormal and uncomfortable at first. One a normal set your thinking about angles, lighting, lenses, frames, but on a 360 set your job is condensed into thinking about the set, stiches, and the movement of the physical camera. Anyone working near the camera needs to have a clear understanding of how the footage is going to emerge. Whether that is through stiches and trying to avoid your protagonist’s head from being cut off, or from quality when it comes to more accessible and affordable cameras that only shoot at 1080p. You’ve got to be aware of how distorted footage is going to become once stitched together and stretched, as well as what it’s going to look like behind a VR headset. You’ve just got to do your research, and unfortunately there isn’t much out there to lay a general home base for new filmmakers to start at.

         Along with filming Knot For Sale, two other filmmakers and myself became interested in exploring 360-degree filmmaking further and decided to do a companion documentary on narrative filmmaking in 360. Through this we had the privilege of interviewing the CEO of Cloudhead Games, a VR gaming company in Qualicum Beach. As we explored their humble office set up in an old firehouse, it became clear that the 19 individuals that work at this company are the real deal. They are pioneering the VR field both in technological advances and narrative gaming, which has one Cloudhead multiple awards. During the interview we did with Denny Unger, he stated that 360 VR is an entirely new genre, and it stands apart not just from narrative filmmaking but also from narrative video games. He describes that an ideal 360 film would be where his son could pick up a bow and arrow and fight along side an invading army without it having consequence on the narrative. They key here is immersion. Previously the most immersion humans have been able to experience with technology is on a screen where we must move buttons to control a character. Now we are within the world, we are the protagonists that can pick up props and hold them to our face. We are the viewer that can both observe the story and experience the set within a narrative film. My view of 360 narrative films has been completely rewritten. It’s time for us to stop asking how we merge narrative filmmaking with 360, and instead start asking ourselves if the films we watched had no limits, what would we create instead?

Let’s Get Virtual

A Look at How the Development of Virtual Reality Filmmaking is Mirroring History

          Light, sound, camera movement, editing: the building blocks of cinema honed and refined over 12 decades since the first public screening in 1885. Looking at modern day cinematic masterpieces like James Cameron’s Avatar or Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight it’s hard to believe that, just under a decade ago, the first film was nothing more than a 10-minute black and white long shot of workers leaving out of a factory.  Over the last one hundred years, film has seen huge developments in lighting, sound, camera movement, editing and more thanks to filmmakers eager to push the boundaries of the art form and discover innovative waves to unspool a narrative.

          The invention of 360 video and virtual reality, however, turns back the clock and puts filmmakers back at square one. The lighting, sound, cinematography, and editing techniques that have been so carefully refined for flat screen cinema do not carry over to 360 filmmaking. In order for this new medium to survive and thrive, a complete reinvention of the elements of film is inevasible—something that has modern day filmmakers, who are comfortable with current technology and techniques, squirming. Over a hundred years ago, filmmakers undoubtedly had similar qualms every time new technology made waves in their industry.

          If we are to look back on the history of film, several parallels emerge between the evolution of flat screen filmmaking and the current development of virtual reality filmmaking. These parallels suggest a promising future for narrative VR despite the primitive nature of the current technology.  Take, for example, camera movement.

         Some of the biggest challenges facing VR filmmakers right now are how to incorporate camera movement in their films, how to light their sets, and how to incorporating editing —all problems faced by flat screen filmmakers throughout history. The first films had virtually no camera movement, not sound, and very little editing. Early filmmakers actually avoided camera movement so as not to confuse the audience. However, as camera technology became more mobile, filmmakers like Orson Welles and Garret Brown started experimenting with tracking, pan, and crane shots—revolutionizing the very techniques used to visually tell a story.  Audiences were not confused by this new development but intrigued and excited.

         The conversation around the incorporation of camera movement in 360 degree films is following a similar trajectory as the conversation on camera movement in flat screen films did one hundred years ago. “Will camera movement be disorienting or confusing to the audience?” seems to be the question at the forefront of 360 filmmakers’ minds. Considering the way camera movement has evolved in flat screen filmmaking, 360 filmmakers are perhaps underestimating their audience’s ability to adapt to new mechanisms within a medium.

         Conversations around editing, sound, and lighting in VR and 360 films are also mirroring those of early filmmakers.

         How does one use editing to enhance rather than disrupt the meaning of the narrative?

         What is the most effective way to record sound using this new type of camera?

         Where do we place lights? How will lighting contribute to the story?

         These are all questions being asked by the pioneers of the 360 video and VR worlds—questions that echo those of the groundbreaking filmmakers who made flat screen movies what they are today. The medium may be new but the conversations aren’t. Should today’s VR filmmakers pursue answers to their questions with the same enthusiasm and creativity as history’s flat screen filmmakers, the future of narrative 360 video and VR is exciting indeed.

Chandler’s Q7A regarding out short film, Knot for Sale!

Virtual Reality Village

          It isn’t always easy for people to give up control, especially when it is something they birthed and brought up in this world. For me, it was hard to give up my baby. The screenplay I conceived consensually with myself in the darkest corners of my mind. They say though it takes a village to raise a child, but in my case, it took a writers’ room to raise my words. Every parent must learn when to let go a little to let their child find their own way and with Knot for Sale, I’m glad I did.

         The script I originally presented to our production class was never written for Virtual Reality. It was a second-year submission that I had touched up for the purposes of this class. I didn’t know how to write in 360-degrees at all, but I figured the script was simple enough with a decent amount of visuals that it would work somehow. It did.

         What I learned in this class though was that what works in a flattie or regular film, doesn’t always work in VR. The script had to be made simpler. The shots had to be doable. The film had to have a reason to be shown in 360 degree, or else what was the point of tackling the project in the first place?

         Maureen Bradley came in and she gave the story a purpose. Stacey was to be moving the action forward. We would move with her and experience the world around her. We wouldn’t just be knocking on doors. Instead, we would be enveloped in vape smoke. We would feel as if we were teasing youths. We would be on the sidelines watching cookies shatter against a door. This script directed our eyes and us to follow a narrative and that is why it works well in VR. I let go and trusted in Maureen and suddenly we were off and running.

         But in came the village. The class of writers who are dissecting your every line and questioning every scene. Some jokes are beloved, others are taken out and executed by tongues firing off like shotguns. They tear down the draft and build it back up. Sometimes your Gwyneth Paltrow puns get cut, sometimes you get gold like cookies that are reinforcing patriarchal power. It is in this moment people take what you offered, and show what they have to offer in return. They make the story make sense. They try to think about what will be stimulating in ever single degree. They even change up lines moments before we shoot!

         I learned from this class something I would eventually learn in the industry; a story is never your own. It is like a child, but it is reared by many. Sure, one person may take credit for its upbringing, but so many people had their hand in this honeypot. I don’t like giving up control, but this class taught me to. I’m so glad I did because I got to make something I’m proud of and with people I’m even more proud of for working together to make it.

         I hope those of you who view it like what we have made. This village raised a child and like a debutante at the ball, she’s ready to be presented.

         Thanks,

         Chandler McCorkindale

Two 360 Narrative Shorts

Link to Discussion in formatted PDF: Two 360 Narrative Shorts

Films discussed by Hector Perez:

Entry into VR

           Nothing could have prepared me for my first few steps into virtual reality. I could go on and on, over the course of a few paragraphs, try and get as in depth about the experience as could possibly be done. But it wouldn’t be worth a cent. Nothing can do that kind of experience justice save for putting on the goggles and entering the brand new world yourself.

            Back in April of this year, I remember hearing that 2016’s incarnation of the University of Victoria’s “unicorn class”, WRIT 420, was going to comprise of an experiment of the virtual variety. I recall feeling let down, bummed out that instead of having the chance to put together what I knew would be a solid short film, the class would be stumbling into uncharted territory and taking a chance on a medium that the industry’s experts only barely have a grasp on. When the faculty announced that the students would be able to submit their scripts to be picked for production in the fall, I was so out of sorts and out of motivation that I didn’t even attempt a draft. Most classmates held similar opinions, and by the time September rolled around very little had changed. Regular class began, most of us were given small glimpses into VR at the hands of dinky smartphone headsets like the Google Cardboard, but even those short, slightly entertaining experiences weren’t enough to sell the medium. By the time the production dates rolled around, I, along with most everyone in the class, seemed to be more excited about the flat version of the film we’d be shooting than the one in the round.

            Something changed for me, however. It began with the chance to work on a documentary about the medium of VR. I went into the experience with low expectations; my mind was already practically made up. The more I researched about virtual reality – the state that it’s presently in, the hopes for the future, etc. – what became most apparent is that, when telling people about it, the reaction was unanimous. Whether it be my parents, my brother, my roommates, or my co-workers, each and everyone I told was ecstatic. Without fault, every time their eyes would light up in conversation at the thought, simply the idea, of virtual reality. That intrigued me.

            Near the end of the semester, my mind seemed to slowly be making it’s way back around. Nothing had changed about the current state of VR. The Google Cardboard had done nothing besides annoy me. But it was the potential thought of what the genre might become, somewhere in the distant future. In late November, our documentary team ended up at Cloudhead Games in Qualicum Beach, Vancouver Island. Cloudhead is an independent, award winning, narrative VR game-studio currently working and excelling in the medium. The studio is based out of Qualicum’s old fire hall, and as we walked the halls, engaged in conversation with the CEO and crew, it became apparent that right here, in this small, cramped building, was the home of VR. This was where it had been hiding. The fact that a tiny production company working out of a building like this, in one of the smallest towns I’d ever been in, is leading the way for the industry made me remember that right, oh yeah, this medium isn’t even in it’s infancy. It’s not even close. As Maureen Bradley, our professor and founder of WRIT 420, put it, “maybe it’s just learning how to roll its head”.

            At the very end of the trip to Cloudhead I had the chance to try out the first chapter of their game, Call of the Starseed. In the cavernous garage of the fire hall, I was given a headset, hand controllers, noise cancelling headphones, and, finally, the chance to fully understand. I stood in a new world, amidst a sort of logic-defying elevator, floating and ascending inside what looked to be a realm full of vibrant colours, blues and yellows, rough, raw and real textures, pieces and parts of shapes flying past me. At the top of the strange elevator, after a bone-chilling conversation with a man who told me something along the lines of “you have the power within you,” I pointed my hand towards the sky, pulled the trigger, and instantly flew upwards through a portal, a doorway into time and space. I quite literally soared with every inch of me. After what could easily have been an eternity in there, the journey ended, my vision faded to black, and at last I remembered the outside world still existed around me. First, they took back my hand controllers, next went the headphones, I could hear again, and lastly were the goggles.

           As the familiar white fluorescents of the real world hit the sensors in my eyes and returned me to the only reality I’d ever known, all I wanted was to go back. All I wanted was another chance at the infinite possibilities of that new, virtual realm. I haven’t shaken that feeling since.

Coming Around to VR

      When we began the semester, I felt like I was diving into a misguided niche. I didn’t believe it could be a viable medium for film and much less a medium unto itself. I think this attitude was informed mainly by a romantic feeling towards “traditional” film. In the same way there was massive resistance to color film, 3d film and even lighter cameras, I was truly against using VR to tell a story.

      Throughout the filming of Knot for Sale, my attitude towards this medium only strengthened. Being one of the directors of the second unit “flattie” version of the film, I felt almost like we were directly competing with VR. Who could tell a better story? The people who planted an odd camera in the middle of a scene and attempted to guide eyes and interest to where important beats are being performed, or the guys who could change lenses, force the viewer to see what’s important, and of course, edit. Their camera could only move on an evil RC dolly. Our camera looked cool and was flown on an even cooler rig. They couldn’t check the footage without 30 minutes of rendering and stitching, we could check it right away and got to discuss options. We got to discuss focal length, depth of field, tone, atmosphere. We got to sound like filmmakers.

      It was when Kate, Brendan and I went to Cloudhead studios when this attitude started to change. I have no romantic relationship with video games. The traditional way of creating games isn’t something I’m passionate about. This let me be entirely open to the VR experience, and I was blown away. At first I told myself that video games were the appropriate application of VR. That film couldn’t work the way games did. But Antony Stevens said it best when he explained that VR’s strength is the “sheer scale of presence and empathy.” Those aspects are just as important to film as they are to games. They’re crucial to any narrative experience.

      I’ve changed my stance on VR. The trip to Cloudhead was the catalyst, and seeing how well the first cut of Knot for Sale came together solidified it. I believe that VR will become a strong medium for narrative. I don’t think it’ll be a new way to shoot movies the same way digital took over film stock. I think it’s an art film that has the potential to evoke a stronger emotional response than traditional film, and I think we’ll see VR evolve into the mainstream sooner rather than later. I look forward to experiencing narratives that are only possible in this medium, and when the “Avatar” of VR hits, I’ll be there on opening day.

           My experience with 360° VR film is from afar, since my main focus was casting during pre-production, and doing continuity for our secondary, standard film, and there isn’t a need for this job in the 360° format given the lack of editing multiple shots of the same scene together. What I can say about shooting in the round, is that you need actors who can be depended upon to perform for the entire time that the cameras are rolling, the crew need to be experts at hiding out of view of the lenses, and the camera dolly needs to cooperate to ensure that whole scenes aren’t unusable. Beyond that, I’m a bit clueless, so I’ll talk instead about the aspects of filming that I contributed to.

          First, there was casting, which was an altogether awesome experience. We’d already filled three of the parts by actors (and one UVic professor!) who we knew would perform well, and so auditioned seven others for the remaining parts. Of these, four auditions were held for the role of Stacey, the “Wednesday Adams-esque” protagonist, and only one of the girls had experience acting in front of a camera. Each of them was talented, and more than one were so convincing we got chills. You could really feel the energy as they performed their prospective parts, and I was pleasantly surprised by this because I’m so used to performances on a screen, I hadn’t expected it to be so palpable (which it obviously would be while in the room with them, duh, Sara). When it came to deciding who to cast, we ended up having to watch the footage we’d recorded in the auditions to see how it translated on camera, because it was such a difficult call to make. Unfortunately, we could only cast one of them as Stacey, but we were so impressed with their auditions that we hired them all as secondary characters and extras! It was a really interesting process, and one that I’d absolutely do again.

          And then there was continuity, which I signed up for enthusiastically because I love catching continuity errors in films and television (wow, I didn’t realize until right this moment how big of a nerd I am). So when our professor and 360° director Maureen Bradley handed me a giant continuity binder from her feature film Two 4 One that was full of codes and Aztec-looking lines, and then started talking about axis’ and other things that sounded alarmingly like math, I kind of panicked. I proceeded to go home and google “how to continuity good” to no avail, and then tried again using better grammar, but still got nowhere. Surprisingly, there isn’t much on the web about the process of continuity, but there’s a lot of YouTube videos pointing out errors in all of our favourite films, because I guess that’s a useful thing to watch? I poured over the binder Maureen had kindly lent to me, and was able to get a vague understanding based on those pages, but without some kind of key or preexisting knowledge, much of it was indecipherable. Thankfully, the UVic library had a few helpful books (one of which hadn’t been checked out in years, apparently) that explained how-to in a somewhat dated way, and then my personal hero and 360° camerawomen, Kate McCallum, gave me a quick lesson in the basics on set. Because our film is so short, and the scenes are also, then, short, I didn’t actually need more than an elementary understanding of continuity (is the actor consistently using her left hand to hold a prop?), and had absolutely no use for the elaborate symbols and such that would be required for a feature film. So basically, I was spooked for nothing, and Kate is the best. I’m fairly certain it went well and that I did my job right. At the end of the three-day shoot, I handed my notes to our second-unit director, Adrian, then wished him luck decoding my scribbles, which to him, may have resembled confusing ciphers and weird images. All in all, continuity requires organization and a careful eye, and with a little more practice I think it’s something I could get decent at.

“Props” to the cast and crew of Knot For Sale

         I think everyone who worked on Knot for Sale found shooting in 360 to be vastly different, in good and bad ways, from traditional filmmaking, but props is maybe one area where the contrast isn’t so steep. For Knot for Sale, I went through the same process as with the last film I worked on, my Writ 320 project. For Fortune, though, I was also doing about eight other jobs, so it was delightful to put all my focus into props and set dressing. Plus, I had a small budget!

         I borrowed some props, bought others, and made some. The most integral prop to our film was the dozens of cookies boxes that our protagonist Stacey needs to sell in order to prove she’s just as good as her nemesis Madison. I had a great time designing the boxes, putting them together, and coming up with a way to create an easily movable stack. I ended up gluing boxes around a chunk of syrofoam, to make what looked like a pile. Thanks to Adrian and Sara for their input and suggestions! The big moment for the cookies came when Knot for Sale star Aisha throws some boxes at Glen’s house. We put real cookies in the boxes, and Aisha had a great arm (baseball, her dad told me). After every take, the crew would kneel to collect the “ground cookies,” as they were dubbed. Did anyone NOT snack on them?

Watch a video about the cookie boxes here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ez5J7JFNHI0

          Set dressing was where I found the job a bit different than for flat filmmaking, only in that a wider eye was needed. We had to be aware of everything that would be on camera, i.e. pretty much anything anywhere nearby, including floor and ceiling/ground and sky. The sky co-operated for the most part. In some earlier scenes, when the tone is grim, the clouds were dense and grey. In the final scene, when Stacey counts her earnings, it turned blue. Thanks, weather. Some residents of Penzance Street also helped us out with their early Halloween decorations, which made the background more interesting and a tad sinister.

          I was surprised that nothing went wrong with the props. The cookie boxes got a little wet toward the end of the shoot. Sometimes the real cookies didn’t fall out when Aisha threw them. But overall everything worked. The very last scene of the second unit shoot was the scene with Madison’s mother. She points at a sign that reads “No agents, peddlers or solicitors” and refuses to buy Stacey’s cookies. The sign worked well, and when we wrapped, I took it off set and loaded it with the rest of the props into Sara’s car. Or so I thought. When I got home, I realized I didn’t have the sign. The last thing I remembered was putting it on the roof of Sara’s car as I bent to grab something else. So if you see the sign lying on the road somewhere…