"After I graduated from UCLA,
I started my career working in the mailroom at Warner Bros. Jack
Warner advised me back then, "If you want to know the future of the
industry don't ask a scientist, ask an artist and trust their instincts."
I'm always thinking about what I can do to help the director get performances
that work for the story. A good script will speak to you. You can see the
imagery and feel the light. You have to take possession of every shot because
the camera is the conduit that brings the performances of the actors to
the audience. There is an unspoken language that determines where you put
the camera, how you move it, what lens you use, and how you light. Cinematography
is like putting a message in a bottle. You cast it on the waters and years
later you meet somebody who says those shots of the bicycle scene in Breaking
Away (1979) have real energy. I encourage and embrace innovations in
technology, but there is something magical about luminous photochemical
imaging. I am confident about the future of filmmaking because we need
art like we need water and food." James Glennon's eclectic mix of some
60 credits ranges from the cult classic El
Norte to Flight
of The Navigator, Citizen
Ruth, Election,
About
Schmidt, the miniseries Blonde and episodic series Carnivale,
The
West Wing, Deadwood
and Big Love.A CONVERSATION WITH JAMES GLENNON, ASC
QUESTION: We understand that you literally grew up
in the film
industry.
GLENNON: My mother, Mary, was a script
supervisor and my father, Bert,
was a cameraman. He started in his teens right after World War I and bought
his first camera in 1920. I recently purchased it from an estate sale.
It's a hand- cranked Bell & Howell camera that is very lightweight
and will last forever. I've actually used it on Deadwood.
QUESTION: What was it like growing up in a film family?
GLENNON: When I was a kid we'd watch television together.
My mother would sit alongside of me and say that's a bad cut, because they
mismatched the action. My father would say there was too much or too little
fill light, the key was on the wrong side, or something looked stupid because
it was a bad angle. This went on for years. I learned by osmosis. I think
its also genetic. We breed racehorses. Isn't the same thing true if both
of your parents were in the film industry? I think genes have a lot to
do with it.
QUESTION: Did you get to know other filmmakers?
GLENNON: I met John
Ford and John
Wayne and lot of other people who my parents knew. (Director) Roy
Del Ruth was a good friend of my parents. I've been pals with his son
Tom
Del Ruth (ASC) since I went to his fourth year birthday party.
QUESTION: Did your family encourage you to follow in
their footsteps?
GLENNON: I was writing, sketching and taking pictures
when I was 7 or 8 years old and making short 8mm
films when I was a teenager. The die was cast, but my father didn't
want me to get into the business. He told me to get a real profession.
I think I was 10 when my dad said that I would have to earn whatever I
wanted to do. I always had a part-time job from that time on. I was also
a very good student, but I was thrown out of Notre
Dame High School for too much joking around. I finished at Van
Nuys High School and went on to Pierce
College, where I was on the dean's
list.
QUESTION: Pierce is a two-year school. What did you
do next?
GLENNON: I went on to UCLA,
where I graduated with a degree in filmmaking. I also fooled around with
the sciences, including lasers and holography
in the physics department. I was offered a job at Hughes
Research after I graduated, because they were interested in holography.
I turned them down and took a job in the mailroom at Warner
Bros. instead, because I wanted to be a cameraman.
QUESTION: Did it help that your dad was a cinematographer?
GLENNON: When I was hired, they told me that I wasn't
going to be a cameraman, because that would be nepotism.
I was determined. I'd come in early and either hang out in the camera department
or visit the sound stages to watch them work. The studio would leave notes
on my time card telling me that I shouldn't come in before my assigned
work call, because I wasn't covered by insurance.
QUESTION: How long did you work in the mailroom?
GLENNON: The limit was six months. They told me that
Jack Warner wanted me to get into production because I could type and had
been to college.
QUESTION: Are you talking about the Jack
Warner?
GLENNON: Yes. I delivered mail to him every morning
because all the other mail boys were terrified to walk into his office.
He was under this cloud of cigar smoke at 8 a.m. reading the overnight
mail and telegrams. He wanted me to go into production, but finally said,
'if you want to be a cameraman, buy a camera like your dad did.' I bought
an Éclair
NPR and rented it for $100 a day. The cameraman came free. That was
me.
QUESTION: Did you get work that way?
GLENNON: Some guys from Canada came to Los Angeles
looking for equipment they could rent. They went to F&B Ceco but everything
was too expensive. They saw a little card saying Éclair camera for
rent. When they called, I told them that for no additional charge they
could get a brilliant cameraman. That's how I wound up shooting a film
about killer whales off Vancouver Island. It was kind of a quasi, 16 mm
documentary called Jaws
of Death (1977) that is still seen on television. It was my first film.
QUESTION: That had to be great experience for you.
GLENNON: It was, but the best experience was watching
and listening after I became a second assistant cameraman. Being an assistant
cameraman allowed me to hear conversations between the cinematographer,
director and actors and watch how decisions were made. That's really where
you learn how to stage dramatic scenes and about the arc of character development.
I watched and learned where to put the camera to capture what a scene is
about and what the play of lights can do or not do. I wish that I had taken
more classes in fine arts when I was a student. I remember Jack Warner
saying 'if you want to know what the future is, don't ask a scientist,
because they'll tell you what they see at the end of a microscope or telescope,
and that is always changing. Ask an artist, because they use their instincts.'
He believed in trusting your instincts.
QUESTION: That's a different side of Jack Warner than
his reputation.
GLENNON: Jack Warner was a dealer in art. That's what
he called himself. Sometimes, when I was a mail boy, I would get to sit
and look at dailies with him before the director saw them. He'd give me
a memo to bring to the stage telling a director to reshoot scene 22, because
it looks like hell. He held the assistant directors responsible if an actress
looked bad. He'd say, don't let that woman get out of your sight at night.
Keep her in the hotel, because he wanted them fresh and well rested.
QUESTION: It sounds like you learned some important
lessons.
GLENNON: Life is filled with lessons. I used to mow
a neighbor's lawn when I was a boy. He lived across the street. He owned
a big engineering company and was very wealthy. He would walk along next
to me while I was pushing the lawnmower. He told me I'm going to teach
you one of life's great lessons. When you have employees, always pay them
more than they think they are worth and always ask them for more than they
think they can produce, and you'll all be happy. That was a lesson I've
remembered.
QUESTION: How did you get into the camera department?
GLENNON: An assistant cameraman came in drunk one
day. They sent him home, called down to the mailroom with the message to
send the kid who knows about cameras. I walked onto this working sound
stage, where they were using Mitchell
BNC rack-over cameras. I didn't know the difference between a magazine
case and a lens case, but I could lift things. I worked for two days until
the guy sobered up. On the way back to the mailroom, I stopped at a phone
booth and called every studio camera department. I told them I was an experienced
cameraman available for work. The guy at (20th
Century) Fox told me to come over to work on the Batman
TV series. I told him that I wasn't in the union. He said that's okay.
They were busy and could hire me on a permit because all the union assistants
were working. He asked me again if had experience. I told him that I had
solid experience without mentioning that it was only two days. He told
me to report the next morning. I went to the mailroom and submitted my
resignation. They were shocked because I was Jack Warner's favorite mail
boy. After I submitted my resignation, I went to his office and told him
that I was leaving to become an assistant cameraman.
QUESTION: What happened at Fox?
GLENNON: I was there for a couple of years, mainly
filling in when they needed an extra second assistant until I got a call
to work on Gilligan's
Island with Richard
Rawlings (ASC). A lot of people helped me get started. I worked with
Bill
Clothier (ASC) on a Jerry
Lewis picture -- Way...
Way Out (1966) -- and Haskell
Wexler (ASC) was a big influence. I met a wonderful script supervisor
while I was working at Fox. She knew my mother and recognized my name.
She asked if I had ambitions to become a cameraman. When I said yes, she
told me that from this moment on you have to think like a cameraman. Listen
to all the problems and try to solve them. Then, watch how the cameraman
solves them.
QUESTION: Why was that important advice?
GLENNON: As a cameramen you are always looking at
the distant horizons to see what's ahead, so the director is free to concentrate
on the performances, because that's where the magic happens. I'm always
thinking about what can I do to help the director get performances that
work. Later on, when I became an operator, every time I turned the camera
on, I would ask myself, how can I make this shot better? You have to trust
your instincts and take possession of every shot, because you're the eyes
of the audience. I tell my crew not to be passengers along for the ride.
Tell me what you think.
QUESTION: How long did you work on crews as an assistant?
GLENNON: I was a second and first assistant for about
10 years. Matt
Leonetti (ASC) moved me up to camera operator on a television
movie Hurricane
Hunters (1974) and also on Breaking
Away (1979). I was an operator for seven years. I had opportunities
to work with Owen
Roizman (ASC) on four films, The
Electric Horseman (1979), True
Confessions (1981), Absence
of Malice (1981) and Taps
(1981), with John
Bailey (ASC) on Ordinary
People (1980) and with Jordon
Cronenweth on Altered
States (1980).
QUESTION: So, you observed some amazing artists at work?
GLENNON: They are all supreme artists. I didn't just
observe them working. I got to know them as people. When I was working
with John Bailey
we'd visit art stores and look at books on off days. John would know everything
about the artists and their work. We picked up a book called Cape
Light (1979) with photos by Joel
Meyerowitz. It was fascinating. When they were agonizing over what
the title sequence for Ordinary
People should look like. I told John that I thought it should look
like the art in this book. He said, 'go tell Robert
(Redford) and maybe he'll let you shoot it.' That's how I wound up
shooting the title sequences for Ordinary
People (1980).
QUESTION: What was your idea for the title sequence?
GLENNON: I shot some film of a distant, leaf covered
bridge with one lone, tiny figure, wearing a brilliant red sweater sitting
on a bench. It was my future wife, Charmaine. She was visiting that day.
She didn't want to do it at first, but I told her that it's a big wide
shot, and no one would recognize her. Redford
loved it. We also shot a pier jutting out from the shore with lapping water
around it and distant horizons. When we were finished, I wrote Joel
Meyerowitz a letter saying you don't know me, but I'm a great admirer
of your work, at least for the last few weeks. I've stolen all of your
ideas while shooting the title sequence for Ordinary
People (1980). Next time, I'm in New York, I will buy you a good steak
dinner and a glass of whiskey.
QUESTION: Did he respond?
GLENNON: He called to ask who I was and what I did.
We are still friends. After 9/11 and the collapse of the World Trade Center,
Joel
I took amazing pictures with his 8X10 wooden camera of the destruction
at Ground Zero and surrounding area. His pictures are in the archives and
are hanging in museums.
QUESTION: Given your experience, how do you feel today
about having people on your crews who followed their parents into the industry?
GLENNON: Some of the best people on my crews have had
parents in the industry. They know about the hard work and the hideous
hours. You're on the set more than you are with your family. John
Flinn, IV is a first assistant on my crew. His
father is a great cameraman and his grandfather and great grandfather
were in the industry.
QUESTION: Photography has only been around for around
150 years. What do you think you would have done with your life if you
were born 200 or 400 years ago?
GLENNON: There are similar pursuits, including architecture
and sculpting. I still remember Jack
Warner telling me that people spend a buck to see a movie, because
it makes them feel an emotional response. This is the speech I give to
camera operators and assistants on my crew. I say you want my job. You
want to be a cameraman. Don't deny it. While you here on my set watch everything
that is happening. Tell me if you see bad lighting. Come to me immediately,
because I am holding you personally responsible.
QUESTION: Do you see the film in your mind when you
read the script?
GLENNON: Absolutely. A good script will speak to you.
I can see the imagery and feel the light. I was born that way. Even as
a kid I noticed the play of light and shadows. Many times, I'll be reading
a script, and will remember something I saw in the past and remember how
it made me feel. I see the scene in my mind.
QUESTION: What are the important things you learned
about dealing with directors when you were an assistant and operator watching
cameramen relate with them?
GLENNON: Your first job as a cinematographer is to
get the director feeling comfortable talking about emotions with you. Some
of them can't articulate the visuals they want to tell the story. I tell
them that's my job. Just tell me what it is you're feeling. Tell me what
the scene is about emotionally and dramatically. Tell me why we need that
scene? It isn't necessarily just about what the characters are saying.
There is an unspoken language that determines where you put the camera,
how you move it, how you light and everything else. The camera is a conduit
for how the audience sees the performances.
QUESTION: This isn't something they necessarily perceive
consciously?
GLENNON: The audience paid their dollar because they
don't want to think about their house and their dog, where they parked
their car or anything like that. They want the lights to go down and leave
all that behind. Once you have the audience hypnotized all it takes is
one false note to break the spell.
QUESTION: Most people don't recognize the role that
cinematographers play.
GLENNON: Cinematography is like putting a message in
a bottle. You cast it on the waters and years later you'll meet somebody
who says, I saw that bicycle scene in Breaking
Away (1979). It had real energy. I'll know they're talking about scenes
we shot handheld instead of using an insert car. I was the camera operator.
We used a 4-inch long 100mm lens like a bellows and held it steady to magnify
a bolt on a wheel in a close-up. Those imaged vibrated with energy that
the audience translates into emotions.
QUESTION: How did you move up to cameraman?
GLENNON: I was in no hurry to move up. I worked on
wonderful films, and did the second unit camerawork and shot titles for
some of them. Everyday, I asked myself what could I do to make it better?
What semi-brilliant ideas can I give to the cameraman? I worked as an assistant
cameraman on The
Conversation (1974). About 10 years later, Jim
Bloom, a producer who had been a PA on The Conversation called and
asked me to come northern California to meet George
Lucas and talk about a project where I could move up to director of
photography. It was Star
Wars: Return of the Jedi (1983). He said they were going to shoot the
film at Pinewood
Studios in Britain, but there was a large American location unit with
several hundred people. He said they had been following my work and wanted
to talk to me about moving up. I went and spoke with George (Lucas). That
was my first job as a cinematographer.
QUESTION: What happened next?
GLENNON: Right after Jedi, I shot a tiny, independent
film called El
Norte (1983). It was a story about a family of illegal immigrants from
Guatemala, and how they made their way to Los Angeles. They wanted to shoot
it in 16mm. I told (director) Greg
Nava that it should be 35mm, because when the audience is sitting in
a Westwood Village theater looking at the screen you'll want them to see
a beautiful 35mm print. He looked at me in all seriousness and said, "this
film will never see the inside of any theater in Westwood
Village." He was wrong about that. Greg was nominated for an Academy
Award for his screenplay. It's a wonderful film because it came from his
and (co-writer) Anna
Thomas' heart. That reminds me of something else that Jack Warner said.
He said make the film that you want to make and be true to yourself.
QUESTION: You have earned some 60 narrative credits,
including movies for television and cinema and also episodic shows. Do
you treat TV and cinema differently?
GLENNON: No. All film is two-dimensional. It's up to
the cameraman to find ways to find angles and liquid lighting that creates
dimension and perceived depth.
QUESTION: Did you know that Deadwood
was going to be a big hit?
GLENNON: I knew that the script came closest to the
19th century American West than any story that I had read during all my
years in the industry. That appealed to me, along with the language and
the rawness. We have a mandate. If it doesn't look like it's from 19th
Century West, don't turn the camera on. It has to feel like real sunlight
coming into real windows, and at night, it has to feel like real lanterns
are the source of light. I drew on experiences from El
Norte (1983). We had a budget of a half a million and no lights in
Central America. We lit everything with candles and used mirrors in daytime
to send shafts of light onto the sets.
QUESTION: How did you light with candles?
GLENNON: There was no electricity, so if we were shooting
a night interior, I'd put 20 votive candles in a white box on a stand.
That was my fill key and rim light. Nobody on my crew spoke English. I
spoke broken Spanish and told them how to move the light around. I knew
it was 20 footcandles if it was one foot away, two feet away was 10 footcandles,
and so on. I knew the film was way underexposed, but it held the exposures
without going grainy. You come to rely on that from Kodak.
QUESTION: When you say you knew it was 20 footcandles,
are you being literal, or are you talking about readings on a light meter?
GLENNON: I didn't use my light meter. I just looked
at the light. My dad used to judge light by the shadow of his foot on the
ground, and that film was a lot slower.
QUESTION: How did you prepare to shoot Deadwood?
GLENNON: I shot a Western film called South
of Heaven, West of Hell (2000) a few years before Deadwood.
It was set in Tucson during the turn of the century. Dwight
Yoakam was the director and star. That film gave me insights into shooting
Deadwood.
QUESTION: Why has is that HBO series so popular?
GLENNON: The main reason is that it's an engaging
story with interesting characters who survive and find some happiness in
those horrible circumstances. That tells us that we can survive and find
happiness in today's world.
QUESTION: What about Big
Love, another HBO
series that you are shooting?
GLENNON: Big
Love is about polygamous family in Salt Lake City. It is first real,
then slightly uncomfortably revealing, then funny, and dark. It is very
HBO. It's set in contemporary times and can be hilariously funny. We want
it to feel realistic and be provocative. We have three full-sized homes
built side by side on a stage. We also have complete sets for the interiors
of each house, including adjoining backyards that are complete with dirt
and a swimming pool. There is a huge 120-foot long backing of the neighborhood
behind the sets, which looks as real as is humanly possible.
QUESTION: One of the fascinating things about filmmaking,
in general, and cinematography, in particular, is how the subtlest nuance
can make a difference.
GLENNON: I shot a film called Election
(1999). Reese
Witherspoon was the lead actress. She played a student running for
president of her high school. Paramount
did a test screening. After the audience saw the film, they asked 50 of
them to stay and answer questions and make comments. They were sitting
in front of the theater with the studio executives, director
and me behind them. The moderator got up and asked the audience how they
liked the film. They all said they liked it. Then, he asked, who wants
to say something? A girl raised her hand. She stood up and said, I don't
know much about this business and what you guys call photography, but I
have to say that the camera in this film was really funny. It was doing
some really funny things that I think were really neat. Other people in
the audience all agreed with her that the camera was doing funny things
that were neat. The executives did a slow turn and looked at me. She was
right. The angle, lens, position of the camera, lighting all made a difference,
but in the end the camera is a conduit for the performances.
QUESTION: Can you give us an example of what that means?
GLENNON: I'll give you a small example. There are
scenes where we placed a wide-angle lens just close enough to Reese to
feel slightly invasive and more intimate. There was nothing in the script
that said put a 25mm lens closer to usual to Reese.
QUESTION: What do you tell students and young filmmakers
when they ask you for advice about making a place for themselves in the
film industry?
GLENNON: I was part of a seminar at UCLA at Royce Hall
some years ago. When it was my time to speak, I stood there for a minute,
and then I said, I might be mistaken, but I think there are more people
here than there are in the entire film department. I said that means some
of you are studying business and law, but you want to get in the film department.
You know who you are. Go change your majors this afternoon. The film industry
needs you. Everyone was laughing. Two years later, I got a phone call from
someone who said, you don't know me, but I was sitting in Royce Hall two
years ago. I was a law major. You pointed right at me and told me to change
my major and get into film. I changed my major that afternoon and got a
masters degree in film. I've got a job at Disney now, and we want you to
shoot a film.
QUESTION: Did you end up shooting that film?
GLENNON: I did. It was Flight
of the Navigator (1986).
QUESTION: Have you trained people who have moved up
in the industry?
GLENNON: Probably more than I realize. A few years
ago, I was looking for local camera operators in Indiana for a wonderful
anamorphic film called Madison
(2001). A young guy came in, and while I was looking at his resume, he
said "You don't remember me. I was about 12 years old when you were the
operator on Breaking
Away (1979). You saw me on the set and called me over to the camera.
You let me look through the lens, and then you said that I was a natural
born camera operator, because I was using my right eye and kept my left
eye open watching the boom man. You put your hand on my shoulder, looked
me in the eye and said, son, you're going to be a cameraman when you grow
up." I hired him and he turned out to be a brilliant camera
operator, so the things that you do in your life do come right around,
and isn't that wonderful?
QUESTION: Are you confident or pessimistic about the
future of this industry?
GLENNON: That's like asking if I'm pessimistic about
the future of art. Our ancestors painted images on the sides of pyramid
tunnels telling stories thousands of years ago. When photography was invented
there was a big fear that it was going to replace sketching and painting
with watercolors, which was very popular during the 19th century. It didn't
happen, because we need art like we need water and food.
QUESTION: Is technology changing the art of cinematography?
GLENNON: When I was starting my career, everybody
was saying videotape was going to replace film, but I remember reading
Marshall
McLuhan who wrote that video feels immediate and film distances the
audience from the drama. Some people say that digital DVDs are more film-like.
That may be true, but it's still a different medium. There's something
magical about luminous photo-chemical imaging that is different.
QUESTION: What's your approach to embracing new technologies?
GLENNON: My approach is to encourage and embrace any
innovations in technology and accept them for what they are. About 30 years
ago, I was an assistant on The
Conversation (1974). Ralph
Gerling was the operator. In the opening sequence, there was a shot
of a couple walking in a public square. Francis
(Coppola) wanted a slow zoom, tracking with the couple. He said he
wanted it to last for moments. We couldn't zoom that slow with the Panavision
25-250 mm lens we had in those days. I noticed that the sound guy had figured
out how to slow the audio track down and make it slur. It was an interesting
effect. During the lunch break, I asked him if he could take the zoom control
apart and figure out how to make it work slower. I also suggested that
Ralph put the crosshairs on the couple and keep them there as they get
bigger and bigger in the frame. The shot ends with the camera looking straight
down at the tops of their heads. I was the newest guy on the crew, but
Francis and everyone else went along with my ideas. We trusted our instincts
and invented a little bit of new technology. The Panavision guy probably
would have had a heart attack if he knew what we did.
QUESTION: We know that filmmaking makes huge demands
on your time, but we were wondering, what do you do when you're not being
a cameraman?
GLENNON: We only have so many days and hours on this
planet. We're all just temporarily visitors. Part of our job is to help
our fellow man. When I'm not filming, I try to help develop projects and
stories that need to be told by encouraging writers, directors and producers.
When I'm not shooting, I'm also working on my antique cars, planting flowers
or experimenting with
something that lets my mind relax.
KODAK : http://www.kodak.com/US/plugins/acrobat/en/motion/newsletters/archived/onFilmInterviews/jamesGlennon.pdf
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