Visit to the shooting
Last week I attended the shooting of Uncertain Glory. We arrived at dusk, the night about to fall on such a clear Aragonese sky that almost felt more palpable than the ground we walked on. Huddled, under the cramped space of trenches, there was one of the settings of the film. In that den – that was the sensation that produced the shooting area- about one hundred people moved without interruption, technicians of all types equipped from head to toe like a string of climbers. It must be said that we arrived at a bad time: one of the two cameras, the one who carried the equipment in his back, had just broken one leg walking down the steps of the trench. Although, of course, he was being surrounded while waiting for the ambulance, all around people’s movement remained, the ant’s nest always in action, adapting to accidents and unforeseen events.
After having dinner with fifty soldiers -the scene was curious- Isona warned us that the shooting was to continue. We hid in the trenches to watch the next scene closely. We spied on the actors though an opening in the hideout. “Yes, sir!” we heard while Oriol, inside the trench, raised his hand in a military salute. From the outside, it almost seemed I was attending one of those games in which children, in a corner of the school ground, invent entire films. But when we went up to see the shooting from the control screen, that space, so small and cosy, became suddenly immense, solemn. Agustí was careful not to shoot angles, so he would not cut the off-screen, and he nailed the camera to the restless faces of the soldiers, creating the impression of a much wider off-screen than it really was.
Suddenly, I realized that cinema was also wit, invisible magic. Mèlies, now that I think about it, was a great illusionist. The movies are not shoot in immensities, but they manage to make us imagine immensities behind the small window from where we watch them. On the other side of the window there is the human buzz that we all know, an intelligent team work that draws panoramas.
Aina Bonet, Joan Sales’s grand-daughter
Fotos de “yocasting” i Ale Dardik