I’m not sure what the message is about for this film. If there is one it isn’t explicit in a way that highlights “this is bad” or “this is good”. That might be the point. The message could be an attempt to start a conversation about surveillance, getting people to think. The man speaking about god adds to this because it offers a point of reference for similarities between the US and a place the US thinks as being so different from it. The young boy enjoying the ferris wheel represents an innocence of every child and makes you wonder why he is being watched. A look into the day to day lives of people working, walking, shopping, and playing is meant to offer insight into the lives of people in Kabul doing the same things people do in the US. This might change perspectives on whether or not Kabul should be watched, it might make you ask why they are being watched, and why it is classified. Are these people in danger of whatever threat the US is trying to protect them from, or does the US think they are the treat? What are we missing?

The story is introduced with just the blimp over the mountains. It is a beautiful sky-scape. Generally blimps are a cool thing to see so without any further insight into, The Above, we are left with lightheartedness and awe of the beauty of wherever the blimp is. When we learn the blimp is over Kabul, we begin to wonder why and all presuppositions of the US and middle east are at stake. As the story progresses, we see the daily activities of a city, while we as the audience are still searching for “why Kabul?”, only to not receive an answer. The balloons carried by the boy also mimic innocence and similarity and act as motive for asking questions because of the unexpectedness of those colors in that landscape. A blimp is shown in Maryland, in a place clearly more affluent than Kabul. Text tells us this is to detect long range missile attacks. The text itself acts as a paradox to the normal lives of people in Kabul, as if they would be the attackers. The introduction of the blimp over a development of houses (a typical perspective from which we have previously seen blimps, which replicates my initial thoughts in the first shot of he film) was perhaps used to change our perspective the next time we see a blimp in the US.

I am left feeling unsure still, feeling uneasy, which could be just what KJ’s intentions were; to evoke in us a sense of uneasiness that the people of Kabul feel.

I was looking forward to watching The Thin Blue Line because I quoted Errol Morris in my reflection from a reading a couple weeks ago. Here’s the quote: “I investigated a murder with a camera – an oddity in and of itself, it was not telling a story about a murder investigation, it was the investigation – and evidence was accumulated with that camera”. After watching, it is easy to see how to some, this can read as just another murder investigation show, but what made it different for me was intentionally watching it with a particular eye for production and post-production choices. There were elements that made the film more artistic than any murder investigation show you would see on television today. For instance, the X’s at the end of the statement Randall Adams signed were highlighted by a close up of the X on the typewriter. This illumination of a key on a typewriter insinuates a human is in fact responsible for pressing that key. It breaks down the inhuman, overly broad, ‘not to be reckoned with’ category, “the officials”, normally brings to mind; “the officials”, being one general persona of many actual people who were both inadvertently and directly prosecuting Adams. To further that point, the X’s additionally serve to represent and highlight the murder itself, and potentially spell out the sentence that will be Randall Adams fate.

Another notable aspect of this doc was their way of introducing the suspects. They are both in prison uniforms so we know they are charged, however Adams is still defending his innocence and David Harris seems so nonchalant that neither of them seem like criminals. After learning that Adams was guilty, as the audience I immediately started to doubt my judgment about his character. Harris’ demeanor affirmed my suspicions of his innocence (although initially I thought they were both innocent and they got the wrong car). The police who interrogated Adams were introduced careless and disinterested as to whether or not Adams actually committed the murder, just wanting to quick close the case by calling him the criminal. Once I learned how Adams’ was being treated by police I began to question their authority and their ability to honestly and thoroughly do their jobs. This also made me question how many innocent people are treated this way and it highlighted how one person can cultivate a following of people who believe one thing over another. Then I began to be suspicious of David Harris once again, hearing of all the strangeness of him, of his criminal history, of his potential motive for murdering the cop, etc., and it seemed more clear that he was the perpetrator, in the interview still recalling the events of his innocence from that night. I was left to wonder why he was now in prison if they called him innocent and Adams guilty. I suspected he was not actually innocent and that they had picked him up for another crime. My suspicions were confirmed and then we hear of what potentially contributed to Harris being a criminal and I felt for him and could begin to understand why “the officials” wanted not to prosecute his regardless of evidence pointing his way. After all, they did say they didn’t want to convict a young boy, yet it got another man murdered.

Overall, the film was a bit dull, but it did take me on a rollercoaster of questioning and investigating the case at hand given all the evidence. It paralleled KJ’s discussion of power as the cameraperson, in this case as part of the post-production process, when choices are made as to how to introduce new information across the sequence of the film. This definitely gave me food for thought.

Cameraperson is so well-done. Getting to speak with the creator is inspiring and motivating. It made the film all the more meaningful and powerful because I was able to spend time with her enough to get a sense of her personality, how she talks to people, how she thinks. Her openness to questions, her ability to connect. I felt like we were her subjects and she was the camera. Her intimacy and carefulness to explain herself when answering questions, to go ‘off’ topic which somehow explained the question in a way that is indirect and makes you forget what you asked, but in a good way. She is an amazing teacher. I learned so much about filming from her workshop and her film. I learned so much about being human. The pains, emotions, anxieties, joys, appreciations, humbleness, I could go on. It never ended. A brilliant woman, a brilliant soul. I am forever indebted to her brilliance.

I had many questions about for KJ, and while many of them were answered by other students asking what I had in mind, there were others I was still curious about before we ran out of time. I wanted to know what kind of cameras she used and what kind of recorders her sound guy used. I very much see now how the equipment used is nowhere near as important as how good the cameraperson is, but it still would be interesting to know what technology this veteran documentarian prefers. I watched cameraperson on my computer at home a few days before the screening. During the screening I noticed the sound was much more intense. At first I thought it was just simply louder. I noticed the quality of sound especially when the shot of her twins were playing with her camera and you hear her son pat the microphone with his hands. The sound was very clear, but very low, bass-driven, and I am wondering how that was done. Was her camera’s microphone just that good? Was the sound from it cleaned up a bit? Was a new fabricated sound used in place of that?

It has been 4 days since the screening and all I can think about is her and her film! I keep thinking about how she wanted to do something that hasn’t been done before. She was successful in that as far as I know. She really has set the bar in terms of genre for the 21st century. I’m sure there will be college students all over the world playing off of Cameraperson for their capstones and senior seminars. She has inspired me to want to think out of the box and challenge certain parts of me that consider all her heavy experiences to be anxiety-ridden, hence things I thought I could never do.

“I investigated a murder with a camera – an oddity in and of itself, it was not telling a story about a murder investigation, it was the investigation – and evidence was accumulated with that camera…” — Errol Morris

I love this. I find this inspirational and determinative of what I hope to be able to achieve. If even a nuance of this makes it into a project I am apart of I would be happy. I am constantly curious and trying to work out what kind of style I might want to adopt, or what style I might tend to lean towards. I won’t know this until I try different styles out, but it is something I think about. The camera as an investigator seems like a style itself; not making assumptions, not taking a subject for granted, not altering in any way. Instead, keeping up with the events, the camera being the sponge that soaks up everything that takes place, then later, remembering everything and piecing it together as elegantly as possible, like a record of history. Later Morris is quoted again saying, “documentaries can play an important, potentially life-or-death part in contemporary social discourse.” I never want to forget that documentary can change lives.

I don’t want to bore people. I want the audience to care about what is on the screen. I want them to connect and want more from it. On page 132, Bernard talks about deciding whether or not to keep with the chronology of the events and how it is not always the best way to approach each film. In her examples, it is clear that mixing up the chronology a bit can engage the audience because it get them to ask questions, which keeps them enticed. However, knowing the chronology as the film maker is beneficial for staying on track and keeping true to a series of events and reactions that occurred.

On page 137, Bernard quotes Alan Berliner who says, “one of the hardest things I had to do was let go of everything I knew— to accept that the film could not possibly contain everything I had learned about names.” This was a great insight and something I’ve thought about. There are so many branches to any given topic, but I must choose a few branches and stick to those otherwise the film would never end. It assisted my understanding of the documentaries I’ve watched. People only have the knowledge of what you’ve shown them, not what has been left out. The filmmaker must choose what to include, out of necessity for length and complexity purposes. These decisions will be difficult, but important to make.

Now that we are beginning to talk about what documentary ideas we want to pursue as a class, the chapter on Planning and Pitching has been a helpful and relevant read. To pitch effectively, the filmmaker has to pitch both the story and the topic. To pitch one rather than the other would be a disservice to each. The story is the means by which the topic is explored. Therefore both have to hold their own weight, yet complement one another.

Something else I want to keep in mind is to remember to let people speak for themselves. There is more power in someone speaking on their own behalf than hearing a secondhand story from an unrelated or removed person. Their perspective might be vital to have as well, but hearing it from the horse’s mouth provides the honesty the audience needs to take the film seriously.

I want to focus on a project that has meaning beyond the present. I want to be able to watch the film I was apart of years from now and see it in the context of that time. I was most interested in Gifted Youngins and Criminal at Age 5. Gifted Youngins could go in many different directions in terms of the story being told. Also, I think children in front of a camera is fascinating. There is usually no invisible barrier of self-consciousness with kids and cameras. I would love to explore that idea itself while pursuing a meaningful story. The DACA topic is also of heightened interest me because it is happening now, yet it will effect individual’s futures. It is scary and there all so many opinions surrounding this subject that it would be worth exploring, and really it is worth learning about since our audience is our class. We are students and we are young and we know people, perhaps inadvertently, who are going to be effected by DACA being rescinded. Their futures will be effected one way or another, and their stories are worth knowing.

If I had to add any topic, I would be interested to include a project that focuses on the opioid epidemic in the Lehigh Valley. Opioids are a very serious problem in this area, as well as all over right now. This includes heroin and prescription drugs. Now that medical marijuana legalization has been passed, I feel it is time to bring awareness to the opioid issue people face. 13 people died everyday from a drug overdose in PA in 2016. 45% of drug overdoses in PA in 2016 found heroin present. This is a crisis. It needs attention.

I felt inspired, confident and validated in my pursuit of the Doc minor after reading Kirsten Johnson’s statement. She spoke boldly about the qualities of her work, bringing attention to the nuances of documentary I never would have considered this early on, but of which now seem so imperative to know sooner rather than later. I noticed there was a sense of power as a cameraperson that seemed to underpin most words she chose.

I have never been one who favors power in a sense that I need to feel ‘in charge’ and make demands of others in any career path. However, Kirsten shed new light on the necessity of having to confront tough decisions.

Having no control would result in a counterproductive workflow. However, here I think she is alluding to a deeper, more raw and organic principle of power when it comes to her work. Her hints to power in this reading are not so much an exertion of control of every circumstance. I understand this sense of power instead as acting like an organ, a brain, or perhaps more clearly, the innate brain ‘power’ of a documentary, what dictates the film.

She offers instances where action is necessary for the documentary to live beyond the moment of filming when she says, “I can and will leave a place I film (a war, a refugee camp, etc.) when the people I film cannot”. The brain of the operation tells her it’s time to leave. She also says, “I alter the balance of power by my presence and act on behalf of one side or another in a conflict”. Being the person with the camera gives her a presence different from how she is without it, the brain telling her what to concentrate on. She writes, “My work can change the way my subject is perceived…” It holds the power to alter other brains’ perceptions, to make change happen in others. “I fail to see or follow stories the director I work for hopes I will follow”, the brain wants what it wants. “I get to share profound intimacy with the people I film”, a vulnerable moment the brain yearns for, “…pursue remarkable stories…”, allow the brain to wander and wonder, “…be at the center of events as they unfold…”, the brain is always hungry for more. Yet, the brain is also required to make technical choices, “how to frame, find focus, choose the direction to follow”.

I suppose this was all so striking to me because it reaffirmed my suspicion about filmmaking being a career in which the learning is endless and the rewards are all the more fruitful because the road to finality is arduous, and creative when the dedication is so wholehearted.

“Feeding Time” (Making #3: Instagram Story)