Accessibility and Collaboration in Editing – and insights on form/function

I was lucky to recently be able to attend DOC NYC’s “COLLABORATIVE FILMMAKING, ACCESSIBILITY AND EDITING” with filmmaker Alexis Neophytides (Fire Through Dry Grass), filmmaker Set Hernandez and protagonist/co-writer Pedro (Unseen), and moderator Nefertiti Matos Olivares (Descriptive Video Works, voice talent). The panel covered a range of important information regarding collaboration, inclusion, and accessibility from production to editing to screenings. Some of it was technical, but the most impactful takeaways for me involved a call to consider your audiences throughout the process and your own desire to include audiences with disabilities, rather than needing to tick a technical box at the end of the process.

One point that really stuck with me was the reminder that AD (audio description, for users who are blind or low vision) is - just like all elements of a film - an artistic process. The decisions on who will narrate and how and what they will convey are all considered carefully, but they will be limited in scope by the amount of time between lines of dialogue. If we arrive at picture lock without this consideration, we may be offering a very limited experience to AD users. So, as artists, do we adjust the form of the piece? Recalling (and paraphrasing) Pedro’s words in the conversation, it’s a question we have to ask ourselves, and the answer will be nuanced. But that’s the point – we have to actually consider the form of the piece in these considerations and our own desire to include audiences in the entirety of crafting.

And it can be tricky. For example, different disabilities will involve different needs, sometimes conflicting ones. However, in this example of AD, I am intrigued by the idea of complementary needs. Too often (especially in documentaries) there is a tendency for wall-to-wall talking. I really believe we all need more time to absorb our environments and to maybe fuzz out a little. While the needs of individuals in any audience are going to be different, maybe we can also learn a little bit more about what we all need by paying attention to that diversity. Maybe we can improve the form for all by learning about varied means of perception.

On a similar note, a rich audio design is another layer of non-verbal, auditory information for audiences who are blind or low vision, which also dovetails nicely into an existing goal of wanting that for all hearing audiences. And similar concerns can be addressed for D/deaf and hard of hearing audiences using captions. I have more experience subtitling and captioning films I’ve worked on, and I admit I sometimes notice editing decisions I might have wanted to change once I experience it in the context of captions.

And if we are faced with tough style choices where things don’t all align, we can at least make better informed decisions. There’s always more to learn and (just like we learn from things like rough cut screenings) considering how the film will be experienced by all audiences is powerful information to incorporate into the storytelling process.

"The Documentary Editor is also a writer"

“Documentary editor as writer” is a concept that has long been taking shape in my own mind, and it’s a maxim I’ve come to embrace more and more. Recently, groups like The Alliance of Documentary Editors have been championing the idea, stating “The Documentary Editor is also a writer” in their ADE Guide for Documentary Edit Schedules, which seeks to clarify more than just schedules, but also the multifaceted labor involved in the mysterious editing process.

It’s tempting to visualize the writing contribution of a documentary editor as swapping a couple of scenes on the storyboard or editing down the words of an interview – acts that are done frequently and contribute vitally to the final piece. (And of course there’s always the literal writing of narration and text slates for films that employ those devices.) But the true scope of documentary writing goes much deeper than all of that, and it can be difficult to articulate the nuances of it.

This Indiewire article about the editing process of All the Beauty and the Bloodshed provides an excellent example of how foundational the writing work done in the editing process is and how it reverberates through every fiber of the film, informing all the editing to come and often forging the very form and themes of the film.

Fair Use and The Supreme Court

The Supreme Court finally rules on the Warhol-Prince-Goldsmith case that has been looming over the state of fair use in the US, and it isn’t great. This Atlantic article from 2022 and a NY Times article reporting on the decision do a better job at explaining the situation than I can. From doc editing perspective, I’m always weighing myriad considerations and nuances for what I think will classify a use of media as fair use. It’s critical for both commentary and the aesthetics of the documentary form, and anything post-moderist-adjacent.

It's a strange ruling with otherwise aligned justices taking opposing views. But what I find most unsettling is that a handful of non-artists are playing art critic in a hugely consequential way. Or as Justice Kagan writes in her dissent:

“The majority does not see it. And I mean that literally. There is precious little evidence in today’s opinion that the majority has actually looked at these images, much less that it has engaged with expert views of their aesthetics and meaning.”

And that the decision “will stifle creativity of every sort.”

“It will impede new art and music and literature,” she wrote. “It will thwart the expression of new ideas and the attainment of new knowledge. It will make our world poorer.”

With any luck, the caveats mentioned by the majority, including considerations of educational purposes, will do something to protect documentary use. And I remain grateful for efforts like this BRIEF OF AMICI CURIAE.

Isrealism and Ivan Doig World Premieres!

I’m very excited to announce that two projects which have been in the works for a long time have found their world premieres back-to-back (including alphabetically!) at the wonderful Big Sky Documentary Film Festival.

It's been an honor joining the stellar team of Tikkun Olam Films and some amazing producers on the edit for Israelism – a film rooted in empathy, listening, learning, and unlearning and fueled by the power and generosity of the film's subjects.

The challenge of bringing the written word to screen and the joy of having an artist's immense archive at one's fingertips were part of the fun of Ivan Doig: Landscapes of a Western Mind. I'm grateful to 4:08 Productions, Montana PBS, and the whole crew for the collaboration – including Bill Pullman for his deliciously resonant narration, and to Ivan Doig's family, friends, and colleagues for the chance to tell his story.

More about each later, but for now, I'll be out in Missoula to see them off into the world!

More on Israelism –

When two young American Jews raised to unconditionally love Israel witness the mistreatment of Palestinians, they battle the old guard to create a new movement opposing Israel’s occupation and recentering Judaism itself.

More on Ivan Doig: Landscapes of a Western Mind –

Acclaimed author Ivan Doig mined his hardscrabble, rural Montana childhood to create an iconic and best-selling body of literary work. His poetic portrayals of rugged landscapes and beloved characters make him one of the most celebrated writers of the American West.

DOC NYC 40 Under 40

It’s an absolute honor to have been included in DOC NYC’s annual 40 Under 40 list, especially among these fantastic filmmakers (and past years’ nominees) whose work I greatly admire. Decade-wise, I just made the cutoff, and I’ve been reflecting on almost 10 years ago when I showed my first feature, A Will for the Woods, at DOC NYC. Since then, I’ve had the joy of working with a range of folks - of all ages and career stages - whose collaborations mean the world to me. Thank you, DOC NYC!

Expression vs Algorithm

I like to let myself feel encouraged when the conversation topic turns to “the golden age of documentary”, and I believe it’s true that we are witnessing an embracing and broadening of storytelling forms and structures of the medium. Yet in direct opposition to that, we’re hearing more and more about the pressures to conform to what the algorithm says is best.

This Hollywood Reporter (Inside the Documentary Cash Grab) piece discusses the idea in detail. And then, I read separate pieces from Firelight Media (Beyond Resilience: Indigenous Forms) and POV Magazine (An Interview with Parastoo Anoushahpour on Sexuality, Identity, and Language), which were not explicitly about that concept, but seemed to be in conversation with it. They remind us why it is so important it is to make space for a diversity of storytelling forms and voices; how artists need to be allowed to juggle what is gained and lost by tailoring projects to different, wider, or more focused audiences; and ultimately how catering to algorithms can function more like rut-digging entropy machines that are quite the opposite of creative or evolutionary pursuits.

Recent reads on doc ethics and who represents the truth

On the ever-engaging questions of documentary ethics, these recent reads had me thinking…

I just finished editing and writing an hour-long film with a third-person/omniscient narration, and it’s the first time I’ve done that in almost 15 years. It’s interesting to return to that task with new experience. At first I was resistant to concept, but in the end, it was definitely the right choice for this particular film. So I was interested to see this piece in the Guardian about the broader trends for narration over the years, and what the underlying cultural significance may be regarding our attitudes towards the familiar narrative tool.

Unfortunately, our current era of fake news (both the actually fake kind and the Orwellian use of the term for distrusting real journalism) is another topic that easily grabs my attention. I was drawn to these discussions on Roadrunner, Viewing Booth, and the incredible In Event of Moon Disaster. (The latter is available here, and I highly recommend watching the short film if you haven’t.)

I enjoyed reading this conversation, Documentary Storytelling With Care: A Learning Process, about listening to, learning from, and protecting those who are centered in the film. Taking this ethos into the editing room is why I always feel the initial watch-down and selects process is so much more work than it might otherwise seem. The listening, learning, unlearning, and attempting to deepen an understanding of the subjects’ intentions takes serious focus and presence of mind. When editing begins, we are inevitably going to be altering their words, imposing juxtapositions, collapsing time, etc. Holding on to what we gained from those initial experiences of deep listening is crucial to keeping our manipulations as truthful as we can. And we can continually return to them as something of a compass. Not only it is important for honoring and protecting the subjects, but ideally the film benefits immensely when a deeper, more nuanced, emotional truth and integrity of character is infused into the work.

24 truths/lies/decisions per second – reflecting on a famous Godard quote

In all the wonderful – and bittersweet – revisiting of Jean-Luc Godard of late, I’ve been thinking about how his incredible contributions and breakthroughs have specifically shaped what became possible in documentary cinema. And in questioning what is really “nonfiction” cinema, I’m drawn to his famous quote, "Cinema is truth 24 times a second, and every cut is a lie."

Michael Haneke later said, “Film is 24 lies per second at the service of truth, or at the service of the attempt to find the truth.” And maybe the same is true for a cut - a lie in service of the truth. But the poetry of Godard’s quote resonates, and as an editor, it’s important to recognize the reality-altering, space-time-bending power of a simple cut, and hopefully to use that power responsibly.

That leads me to think that from an editor’s perspective "cinema is 24 decisions a second.” Though that’s bit overwhelming, but it speaks to why editing is fraught with such decision-fatigue.

Alliance of Documentary Editors – BIPOC Doc Editors, Guide for Edit Schedules, Hiring Resources, AND ASSOCIATE EDITORS

An exciting development toward the end of last year was a number of initiatives launched by ADE (Alliance of Documentary Editors). I was happy to join ADE in 2021, and, while I wasn’t directly involved in these recent efforts, I’ve been thrilled to see them get out into the world.

BIPOC Doc Editors is an amazing resource, with its database of BIPOC doc editors, as well as guidelines, calls to action, and other initiatives, all serving to help create the edit rooms we need and deserve.

The Guide for Documentary Edit Schedules clarifies things like humane work hours and expected timeframes, and more. It covers a lot of things I’ve tried to solidify in my own mind, but seeing it in writing with the backing of research and solidarity has been tremendously helpful.

Hiring Resources includes the BIPOC Doc Editors Database, but also expands to other great resources, some of which I’ve known about, like Brown Girls Doc Mafia and The Karen Schmeer Film Editing Fellowship lists, and some that are new to me. I’m so grateful to these groups for making the craft of doc editing stronger and more inclusive.

Associate Editors – Also throughout these initiatives there is a recurring call to action to elevate the role of associate editors, those emerging editors whose work already falls (or could if given the chance) in between assistant and full editor. The idea is that the professional and mentorship ladder in edit rooms is broken, and a creative junior/apprentice role could help fix that. With coordinated efforts, it could become an industry standard.

YOUTH v GOV wins at Jackson Wild Media Awards

Ever since I first heard about Christi Cooper’s film, YOUTH v GOV, I’ve been eagerly and anxiously watching the case that is at the heart of the story, Juliana v. United States, as it continues its journey navigating the courts and fighting for a livable future and stable climate for all of us. I was honored to join her team as one of the editors (alongside editor Lyman Smith and assistant editor Lake Springstead). Since then, it has been incredibly heartwarming to see audiences reacting to the film, and it has also been a thrill to see the film pick up awards at festivals.

Back in late September, I was blown away to learn that YOUTH v GOV was nominated for multiple awards at the Jackson Wild Media Awards, including best editing. Documentary editing only gets so much formal recognition out in the world (though fortunately it seems like more and more), and I'm always thrilled to see prestigious institutions make space for it (whether or not it's my work being noticed, I just love to see the craft have a moment in the spotlight). It was truly an honor to be in the company of amazing nominees and to share a program with so many beautiful films.

I couldn’t be there in person, but listened in with immense gratitude as we were given the editing award and was touched by Christi’s in-person acceptance speech. More joy and surprise came soon after, hearing the film had been named the winner of the Grand Teton Award, the festival’s top award.

I believe in the power of this case, and more broadly, I continue to hold on to the hope that societally we will choose the path to a stable climate system and to environmental justice. I am honored that the film has been recognized for its craft, and I am excited for what the story getting out might be able to do for the movement.

The Lake at the Bottom of the World

I had always wanted to work on a project about Antarctica and was thrilled to learn about the film that would become THE LAKE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE WORLD. The science at the center of it is fascinating, and director Kathy Kasic had a beautiful vision for portraying the environment, the scientific process, and the reality of working as a field scientist, all through sensory-rich storytelling. I’m incredibly grateful to have had the chance to join her film team - and also by proxy the SALSA Antarctica science team, who embrace communication and culture as a part of science. I’m still in awe of the work they do! The film premiered in fall 2021 and is out in festivals now.

Side note: the film was also my first pandemic edit – edited entirely under quarantine.

Emmy Win for The Story of Plastic

Back in late September (I’m playing catchup on this journal) an amazing thing happened. The Story Of Plastic won an Emmy for Outstanding Documentary Writing! The honor belongs first to the heroes in the film who shared their stories and work to move the world towards a livable future. I’m incredibly grateful to them, to the fantastic filmmaking team I got to work alongside, and to all the partnering organizations that made it possible, including Discovery for broadcasting and putting the film up for the award. As Shibu says in the film, we need “a spirit of unity across boundaries, because these toxins do not understand political boundaries...a circular economy is possible.” Here’s to all those who help us #breakfreefromplastic and to seeing the end of a fossil fuel economy in our lifetime.

Emmy Nomination!

I was beyond honored to learn that The Story of Plastic was nominated for an Emmy in Outstanding Writing for Documentary! Crafting a story out of real people's words, expressions, and lives is a privilege and responsibility, and I believe that in its best form is also a collaboration of shared authorship. Any spotlight on the film needs to also be on the amazing group of on-the-ground heroes for the work they do, for sharing their stories, and for making the film what it was. And here's to the film team made up of artists and activists who I'm incredibly grateful to have worked alongside. I’m grateful Discovery not only programmed the film but also felt strongly enough to submit it for this category. I’m also grateful to the film’s director and producer, Deia Schlosberg, for recognizing the writing role that is inherent to most documentary editing and for listing co-editor Brian Wilson and me as writers.

The Story of Plastic aimed to center the voices of fenceline communities and activists, while utilizing a diverse array of archival sources for context and also original animated vignettes to illustrate complicated systems. On top of that, it was a story that interweaved multiple through lines: an historical overview from the 1930s to the 2020s, a detailed explanation of the linear plastic production/disposal system, and an emotional progression of activists’ work. Moreover, the most dramatic reveal in the story happens at the beginning of the linear production system, so the story had to balance all these elements in a way that allowed the film to move between them fluidly while still achieving both clarity and dramatic impact.

Filmmaking in Teams

This Filmmaker Magazine article by Esther B. Robinson on Filmmaking in Pairs (and more) is a from a few years back, but recently emerged from behind the paywall. In it, my A Will for the Woods co-directors and I chime in on the collective filmmaking conversation. It’s not typical for a film to have four co-directors, but hey, Grey Gardens did it with their editors, too! After going through that collaboration, it was good to reflect on what the experience offered us, both creatively and logistically.

The Importance of Fuzz-out Time

An artist friend recently mentioned needing time to “fuzz out” - moments where you can let your mind process, stop taking in new information, and not worry about missing the next thing. I realized how important it is to offer those moments in an edit, to anticipate the need for them and maybe even nudge the viewer into taking them. And I believe it goes beyond just building in pauses and breaks from the often fast-paced information we pack into film and video. They should be embraced as powerful moments.

To be encouraged to enter “fuzz out” mode, the audience should be given a cue - something to encourage a meditation. The viewer’s need to fuzz out shouldn’t be met with a generic broll shot that just lets you catch your breath, but rather a proper cinematic moment that inspires reflection.

One big reason for this is that the power of a scene doesn’t always hit during the scene. Sometimes we cry only after it passes, when for example a more raw verite moment has passed, and something ecstatic follows or maybe just score seeps in to say “it’s ok, you can let it go now.” Or sometimes lots of information is laid out, and the audience should be given a moment to consider what they think of it all and draw their own conclusions. I deeply believe letting the audience think and not just listen is the key to their personal investment in the work.

So the more I think about “fuzz out time”, the more I think that, while they are simple moments, they are the other side of the coin to a powerful scene. They are the moments where the pace of the film, and the processing of viewer’s mind meet up. In a way, they are the moments in course of a film where the viewer may actually be having their most profound moments, and they’ll only work as such if they look, sound, and feel like the magnificent fuzz out moments they’re meant to be.

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This shot becomes a recurring motif in A Will for the Woods, offering some sublime fuzz-out time.

Additive vs Subtractive Editing

I often find myself thinking of editing in two modes: additive and subtractive. They are opposite approaches to try to achieve the same goal, and it seems editors all have opinions about which is the right strategy. Essentially additive editing and stringing “the good stuff” together, whereas subtractive is more about stringing all your raw footage together and “removing the bad stuff”. (I should note that I’m speaking from my own experience discovering these concepts and independently defining the terms for myself.)

It may sound like a minor distinction, but to me, this choice of process speaks volumes about who the editor is in that moment. Additive editing feels confident and concerned with the pursuit of a specific, existing vision. And it’s faster. Subtractive editing feels like a deeper listening to what the footage is saying, and holding on to many potential permutations. It’s a slower and sometimes meandering process. Ultimately, to me, the two modes seem to fall along the convergent vs divergent thinking paradigm (additive being divergent and subtractive being convergent).

A quick search online led me to a discussion board filled with editors confidently promoting “additive all the way”. Maybe deeply pro-additive editors are simply the A-type personalities to preach advice on discussion boards? When editing documentary footage, I always find that I want to see everything (if logistically feasible) and engage with a subtractive process at first. Then after that process, decisions can be made, and after maybe 2 or 3 passes, it starts to offer diminishing returns, and I can eventually switch to additive mode to fully construct the scene with a more focused intention.

That moment of when to switch from subtractive to additive is different from every project, but it’s always a significant turning point in the overall process of completing an edit.

Lessons from The Story of Plastic - Part 1

Every project offers a multitude of lessons, which is why I’ve titled this entry “part 1". I’m imaging a series of lessons from different projects, and I could certainly do more than one entry for this film. But for now, here are three things I learned while working on The Story of Plastic:

1. Documentary Animation – This was my first time considering a heavy use of animation in a documentary film to handle a significant amount of storytelling. I had used it plenty for explainers to illustrate something like a scientific point, but not in situations where whole scenes would play out. Director Deia Schlosberg knew from the beginning that this would be a big factor of the film, and it was a lot of fun getting to work with animator Ruben DeLuna. The main thing I learned was to not use the animation as a crutch. It was tempting to slate animation for every hole in the story that needed coverage, but for the animation to be a vibrant component of the film, it had to be used in places that lent themselves to a whole scene coming to life.

2. Competing Chronologies: System, Timeline, and Storytelling Arc – One of the biggest challenges in the film was figuring out how to tell a story that explained a linear system (the plastic supply chain through disposal), but where we didn’t want the arc of the film to follow that system in order. Everyone knows how that system ends and the urgency around it (pollution), and the big reveal about halfway through the film is all about the beginning of the system (fossil fuel extraction). So telling it in order would be anticlimactic. On top of that, there is also a chronological backstory developing over the decades leading up to the present moment. A key part of the solution was developing distinct visual language for each chronology, so new information could be easily tracked by the viewer. It was as if they weren’t just getting a new puzzle piece, but they also had to be told which puzzle it fits into. Additionally, we addressed the overall concept that there is a supply chain system early on, including the fact that there a many little-known stages to it. I believe that simply addressing that there is mystery there allows a viewer to relax, as they realize they aren’t supposed to get it all yet, and that the information will come sooner or later. In fact, I think it makes it more exciting.

3. The Power of 90 Minutes – The film is full of vignettes of people’s lives who are very rooted in the places they live. Every one of them could have been their own complete film, and each would be an incredible film. Yet being forced to keep their collective story to 90 minutes brings the system into sharp focus. Ironically, if we got to know them better, we might not be able to hold our focus on the system. And the way these seemingly disparate stories are connected is in many ways the point of the film – to not just intellectually know it, but to feel that the Filipino fisherman and the Texan living by a refinery and the Indian recycler (and maybe even the viewer on some level) are all bound together.

One of Ruben DeLuna’s animations from The Story of Plastic

One of Ruben DeLuna’s animations from The Story of Plastic

"Who Is Telling Whose Story, To Whom, and Why?"

The question of “who is telling whose story” is a critical one, both to issues of justice and a fuller understanding of the reality of a film (or any re-constructed reality). I try to always examine this, but it’s hard to know how much to investigate and when and how to alter the trajectory of a project based on the answers. I loved this powerful and smart speech by filmmaker Lisa Valencia-Svensson which expands on the question to add “to whom, and why?” I’ve found these additions very insightful, especially in editing, where for me they add very a helpful specificity to the investigation.

https://www.documentary.org/online-feature/who-telling-whose-story-whom-and-why