"MOM! MOM! LOOK, I did a long take!"
"What? You did what?"
"I...I made a long take, mom. Are you proud of me?"
"When you say you made a long take, what exactly do you mean?"
"Well, I was filming a scene, and I was about to cut, but then I didn't! And then the actors just kept talking, and it was so cool! I'm a director now!"
"You fucking plebe."
"Mom?"
"How dare you presume to be a film maker with an attitude like that, you commoner. What was your REASON for making the take long? Did the scene demand it? Was the dialogue so goddamn terrific you couldn't even fucking fathom cutting between reactions? No, I didn't think so. Here' s what really happened: You watched Goodfellas one too many times and now you've convinced yourself that you could ever even attempt to understand the art of a scene. Get out of my sight you thieving whore, and don't return until you've been booed at Cannes."
"But getting booed is bad."
"Not for artists it's not!"
That was a conversation that happened in real life at some point I assume.
You've seen them, you know them, you have a pretty good idea of what goes into making one happen, but just for shits and giggles, let's really dissect what the term "long take" implies.
It's as simple as it sounds, in theory at least. A long take is a take that is long. More eloquently it is an uninterrupted shot that, by comparison, lasts longer than most shots generally do before they are cut.
Taxi Driver, Goodfellas, Rope, Timecode, Birdman, Season 1 Episode 2 of Daredevil, Season 1 Episode 4 of True Detective, The Raid, The Raid 2, it is a technique you know well, and when done with skill and precision, it is one of the more effective ways to set a scene.
WHY ARE SHOTS CUT IN THE FIRST PLACE?
Thanks for asking. Shots are cut for a variety of reasons. Decent long takes are generally praised simply because of how difficult they are to shoot, and by cutting shots, you are cutting down on the potential number of set ups, considering that when one aspect of a long take goes noticeably wrong, the take must then be reset and tried again. Beyond that, by capturing a particular scene from multiple angles and cutting between said angles, a director/editor can easily make scenes appear more dynamic or visually interesting, while also using the best takes from each angle to construct an airtight exchange between characters. It's weird to ask a question like this, considering that this is just sort of how films are generally made, and the pros and cons seem rather obvious, but I'm arriving at a point and this little section will help us get there.
WHY WOULD YOU EVER OPT TO NOT CUT A TAKE?
Buncha reasons.
For starters, it can actually be easier than setting up various shots from various angles, and depending on the location and the cast and crew involved. In addition, if done effectively, shooting a film using long, uninterrupted takes can be a HUGE time saver. Not only do you eliminate the need to capture the entire scene again from a different spot, you also save time in post-production seeing as how there is no actual cutting that needs to be done. The time saved there can then be allocated towards things like color correction and other such editing tasks. In fact a lot of film makers operating on low budgets (low budget = less time to make your movie) often make use of the long take technique, opting to rehearse and coordinate movements over the course of entire scenes as opposed to breaking down camera and lighting equipment in order to move it all a few feet over to redo a scene from a different spot in the room.
Now, aside from all of the technical/logistical reasoning, there are of course thematic and story-related motivations to consider. Take a movie like The Hateful Eight for example, a recent Tarantino release. That movie depends on the steady building of tension, and thrives on the interactions between the colorful assortment of characters. It's all about the dialogue when it comes to that picture, and on more than one occasion, Tarantino opts to let the camera roll, allowing the conversations to play out largely uninterrupted, adding a layer of unconscious dread and suspense to every word spoken. Now those takes aren't necessarily as long as some of the more noticeable uses of the "oner", but they are still worth noting. Martin Scorsese similarly relies on long and/or tracking shots in two of his most popular films specifically in order to establish characters, setting, and story elements without doing too much spoon fed exposition. The famous track through the restaurant in Goodfellas, the long pan through the taxicab garage in the opening of Tax Driver, or the slow and steady pan away from Travis as he speaks on the payphone, so on and so forth.
Ok, so now we have arrived at the point. The reason I even decided to start writing.
WHAT MAKES A LONG TAKE GOOD?
It just sounds like a cool, impressive, artistic thing to do doesn't it? To let the camera roll, to coordinate movements and actions for the sake of making the shot longer than it normally would (or should) have been. It just seems like the move. Unfortunately, there's more to a long shot than just not cutting.
Let's say I'm making a short experimental film about apples. I take an average looking apple, I set it down on a table, and I let the camera roll. Slowly, over the course of a five minute period, I zoom in on the fruit, and finally, when I've decided it is enough, I cut, and that is my film. Yeah that's boring as shit, and there's no way to spin that into being anything other than uninteresting. Listen I'm all about trying new and different things when it comes to subject matter, and story, but there's no reality where that apple film doesn't put you right the fuck to sleep.
The long shot is a trade off, and not many people realize that. When you cut shots together, you can create the illusion of action, of movement, and in that way, something boring can all of a sudden appear interesting. But when you remove the ability to cut, you have to supplant that movement. The subject now has to mean something, the movement of the camera now matters, because if it isn't thought through, suddenly the uninteresting becomes apparent. You have to have faith not only in what is written on the page, but in the person behind the camera, the person lighting the scene, and the people performing within it, because if you aren't confident that they can somehow retain the viewer's attention, chances are your long shot is doomed to fail. Shooting anything uninterrupted for a lengthy amount of time is inherently snooze-worthy, which is why it is so vital to understand the art of the long take, and the competency it takes to really achieve it.
If there is no motivation behind making a take a long one, that will shine through whatever you present to your audience, and it will inform how they perceive your work. A certain level of intention is imperative. I believe that the spontaneity of writing and film making is what makes it so special, and that it's the discoveries that we don't expect to make in the moments we don't expect to make them that really make the difference between mediocre and truly inspired, but some things have to be deliberate, and planned out carefully, the long take undoubtedly being one of those things.
It's a tough thing to do, and it's an even tougher thing to be good at, but I think we all strive to be better at the things we find most difficult. Especially when it comes to movies, when I am faced with a genuine struggle, I take the dilemma as an opportunity to better myself and better my craft, and I think that a similar philosophy is shared by most in many a field outside of cinema.
I guess if this piece had a primary take-away it would be, know your limits. Know what you're good at, and take comfort in knowing that you excel at those things. At the same time, know what needs work, and don't be afraid to admit that it does. Pride comes before the fall, my friends.
Yours Truly,
Me
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