Day 9, Southern Uganda

Ugandan scouts have been tracking a group of silverback gorillas for the last three days. These are non-habituated animals (not used to human contact), and finding them in the wild is a challenging proposition. Our scouts have radioed us with their position so we can attempt to intercept and film the silverbacks in their natural environment. We’ve seen a mother and baby in a tree from a distance, but we’ve been bushwhacking for over an hour trying to get a better look. Our ranger scouts are armed with high-powered rifles, but moving through the bush with four people is pushing the gorillas farther into the jungle.

Sensing that we’re close, the scouts stay back, and the DP and I push through a thicket. Suddenly, we’re face-to-face with a large male silverback, maybe twelve feet away. We are frozen, shocked to be so close. He is magnificent but much larger than we expected. We have nowhere to go—and no real protection. It’s clear that he could rip us apart if he wanted to, but he sits and stares at us, stuffing leaves in his mouth. The DP slowly raises his camera and starts recording as he puts it on his shoulder. The massive silverback pauses, trying to decide if we’re a threat. A tense moment passes, and the silverback suddenly stands up. We stand dead still, realizing there’s no escape. An eternity passes, and then he slowly turns and disappears into the jungle.

Discovery Channel will get a great shot, but at great risk.

But what I really want to do is direct!

Documentary films usually list a director in the credits, but the role of a director varies greatly in documentary filmmaking. I’ve made documentary films where I am a one-man band, an auteur, effectively writing, directing, shooting, and editing the film. I have also worked on documentary projects with a 125-person crew, where I am supervising six or seven producers, all functioning as directors of individual units. These films have been on the highest mountains, hottest deserts, and deepest jungles in the world. In every case, my role of director has been as varied as the terrain, and the documentary styles have been equally varied, depending on the distribution outlet and the company who is paying the bills.

Timothy Powell in the field in the Tordrillo Mountains in Alaska

For me, filmmaking is a career. Until I began teaching, I needed to make a living at it, so I was often hired to direct “someone else’s film.” Not that I wasn’t the one responsible for the creative vision—I just had the responsibility of delivering a quality product that met their requirements, whether it was National Geographic, Discovery, or the BBC. I would redefine my role on each production. Documentaries for television often have directors whose job title is “producer.” This bothered me early in my career, until I realized that the job is what I make it, no matter the title. Also, most documentaries require the director to wear many hats, including writer and editor hats, so perhaps the producer title is more appropriate.

When I went to film school, I came out with textbook knowledge of what documentary filmmaking was all about. Over the last thirty years, I’ve discovered some elements of the documentary filmmaking process that I wish I’d learned in film school. Here I’d like to dispel what I consider some myths about the documentary filmmaking process.

The Story

“It’s all about the story.” I’ve heard this many times throughout my career, and the basic premise is sound. But I don’t put story at the top of my list when I accept an assignment. When you look at most successful narrative feature films, they aren’t telling a story. They’re following a character on a journey.

The character is the key ingredient. His fears and internal conflicts, the obstacles he must overcome, villains he must face (and eventually defeat)—these are the elements that drive the film. And this is what I try to do with documentaries.

Although some can make a career out of it, I don’t get work documenting something. I make films about people (characters) struggling to achieve something, within the context of a story or event. Just like when I’m working on a scripted narrative project, I want to see the lives of the characters change during the course of the film. I try to include those key screenwriting elements we all know—the idea that the heroes (documentary characters) have a problem to solve, and the problem must be difficult yet solvable within the timeframe of the film, and the heroes must face obstacles (possibly other characters) that keep them from solving the problem, and the audience must care enough about the heroes to compel them to watch the journey in its entirety.

But wait! We’re talking about documentaries here. How can we know what the problem will be, or the obstacles? How can we know that the characters will solve the problem?

Let me provide an example. Back in 2000, I was doing a documentary called Raid Gauloises: Race Across Ecuador, about a 500-mile, ten-day, nonstop adventure race in Ecuador. The race would climb a 20,000-foot volcano, traverse brutal jungles and rain forests, and end with a long ocean kayak. These races routinely defeat the toughest, best-trained athletes in the world. Previous films had been about the race, the difficulty of the terrain, and the winners and the losers. I had a six-person crew with two Land Rovers and very limited access to a helicopter.

How do we plug that into a Hollywood screenplay formula? Well, first, I found a character. Each team had to have at least one woman. One of the best teams in the world was going to be competing, and they had a new team member—a woman who had been on one of the last-place teams the year before. From my first interview with this woman, I knew she would be my “A story” throughout the event. So rather than telling the story of an event with some interviews with participants, I would tell this woman’s story with the event as the setting. In other words, the audience would live the event through her eyes, from her perspective.

In this case, the woman’s problem (remember the screenplay elements?) wouldn’t be getting through the race. We weren’t sure if that would happen since most teams don’t complete the race. Instead, the story would be how she would hold up as a team member on one of the greatest teams in the sport. This journey was the glue that would hold the story together. Of course, I needed traditional race elements for the cable network, but the character’s journey would drive the storytelling.

Practically speaking, it was impossible to follow these world-class teams 24/7 and still make a film. Only a world-class adventure race athlete could keep up, and they would need to be able to carry filming equipment and consistently put themselves in a position to film, as well. No chance. No way. As a director (called a producer), I’m responsible for my entire filming team, and these races put competitors and filmmakers in extremely dangerous positions. Although camerapersons will say that they’re in good shape and do this stuff all the time, the director must quash their concept of being superhuman and look out for everyone’s safety and the best interests of the film.

I needed to determine what and where I would be able to safely shoot and still get the story. All told, I figured I could safely cover about 5 percent of the racecourse. Okay, I wouldn’t have footage for 95 percent of the course, but all I needed to do is figure out which 5 percent would provide the best story beats for my character. My film was about her journey, not the racecourse or the race itself. What obstacles would she personally face? What are her worst fears? Where would the team need to carry her? Where would she carry the team? I couldn’t predict these moments, but I could predict the likely places where some of these might occur. Through interviews, I could also establish her fears, weaknesses, and strengths, and then I could find scenes that would allow us to visually present them. This made for a compelling, character-based documentary that didn’t rely on the outcome of the event.

The Camera

There is a myth that we shoot documentaries handheld with the camera operator moving around to capture the action. Did you picture the cameraperson on my shoot holding a camera and running behind the woman? Many novice directors think that directing is about how the camera will capture the story. How will you shoot it? What camera will you use?

Handheld cameras often lead to what I think of as “a lot of mediocre,” rather than “just enough great.” I treat documentaries the same as scripted feature films. Each shot has an “action” (the reason for the shot), and I try to film that action in the most cinematic way possible. Of course, sometimes this leads to a handheld shot of a character, but I’m going to back in as many angles and additional shots as I think will be necessary to tell the story. For these shots, I’m looking to put the camera on a tripod or slider or dolly and put in some cinematic style. Following characters around with a handheld camera, at eye-level, reacting to whoever is talking, is an editing nightmare and leads to … you guessed it, a lot of mediocre.

I don’t shoot everything and then try to sort it out later. This is another way of guaranteeing a lot of mediocre. I plan what I need, even if this is while it’s happening, and I make sure to get enough cinematic shots to make a scene out of what I got. This means a wide shot, close-ups, medium shots, cutaways, a transition-in, and a transition-out. These are must-haves for telling a story, and I will shoot as many as I can from a tripod or slider. Why? Because I want to tell the story cinematically, which isn’t the same as shooting with a smartphone with the intention of posting it on the Web later that day. This isn’t to dismiss the handheld style of shooting that can be beautifully employed. It’s just to say that I have many more people who will pay me for cinematic shooting. And when you’re a professional working documentarian, you have to be able to deliver what the company, channel, or studio expects.

How do you know how much to shoot? It’s a good question, and one that I have to ask myself with every film or every day of the shoot. One of the biggest factors for determining how much I will shoot of a given scene or event is (what I think will be) the running time of the finished segment. Let’s say I’m shooting an aboriginal ritual that takes six hours. If I know that this will be about thirty seconds of screen time within a montage of ceremonies, I’ll look for a few spectacular shots that capture the feel of the ceremony, rather than sitting on a medium-wide shot for six hours. I can’t edit a single shot (especially that dreaded medium-wide shot) together in a sequence. I want that spectacular wide shot that shows scope, the odd angle that gives a flavor of the aboriginals sitting around the fire, four or five extreme close-ups, a few other artsy variations, and a good sound-up, a sync-sound piece that I can use to bring in the audience, rather than having a whole segment that is just music. (You can see that I don’t need the medium-wide shot at all!)

But if the segment is going to be six minutes instead of thirty seconds, I’ll need something different—several sound-ups, interview bites from three or four people, more extreme close-ups, more artsy shots, a transition in and out, and some smaller segments that will tell the story of the event. Of course, since my documentary is about the main character and not the event, I’ll consistently try to make shots that will help tell the story through the eyes of the character. Is she or he getting initiated? Is she or he witnessing a bizarre ritual? Is she or he afraid? I’m looking through the eyes of my character, so I want to make sure that my visual images and sound elements enhance this perspective.

The Interview

Let’s talk about directing the subjects (characters) of your documentary. Throughout your career, you’ll come across subjects that range from super-experienced on-camera spokespersons, to those who are extremely shy. Most will be somewhere in between. The spokesperson types are easy—they’ll speak in usable sound bites and will know exactly what you’re going for. For the ones who are shy, there might not be much you can do. But for most of your interviewees, your professionalism and demeanor will have a big impact on the results you get.

One of the things I’ve learned over the years is to avoid asking questions. After I’ve researched a documentary, I typically know what I want going into the interviews. But I always try to “find out” as opposed to “question.” Here’s an example: If you ask a question like, “How did you feel when you shot the winning basket?” your nervous interviewee might respond with something like, “good.” This is completely unusable. But if you use the “tell me about …” approach, even the nervous interviewee will be prompted to answer with something more than “good.” If the interviewee is particularly nervous or shy, you might need to provide a bit more of a prompt: “Take me back to those final moments. There are 10 seconds left on the clock, your teammate has just got the rebound, and you’re on a fast break. Tell me exactly what you were doing and everything that was going through your head.” This leads to a richer answer as it gives the interviewee a place to start and encourages him to tell a personal story.

I also use a technique called “the first three words.” This is where you tell the interviewee that you want to give him a few words to start a sentence. His task is to repeat those words and then finish the sentence in his own words. For example, I might say something like, “When I got the ball …” and the interviewee would repeat it and add to it: “When I got the ball, I just wanted to get rid of it. I didn’t want to take the last shot, but there was nobody open.” This is crucial for the editing room as it takes care of the problem of “out of context” interview responses. If I would have asked, “What happened when you got the ball?” the answer might be, “I wanted to get rid of it.” Can you imagine the problem this would pose in editing? It would be difficult to use, because it requires a setup so the audience knows what the player is talking about.

Here are a few more rules of interviewing that you need to know in the field.

Rule 7. Find a Nice, Quiet Place

The key to any interview is making sure you can cover it with additional shots (B-roll). With most narrative documentaries, talking head interviews take up a small amount of screen time, and other footage is cut in to illustrate what they’re talking about. Although you may have a great shot of the crashing surf behind your subject, the sound becomes distracting once you cut to B-roll. Sometimes, these beautiful, noisy interviews are appropriate and you can use them effectively. But be careful as they might become difficult to use once you get to postproduction.

Documentary filmmaking is exciting, unpredictable, fulfilling, and, at times, scary. It requires great flexibility in how you will tell your story, and it often brings you into the lives of truly remarkable people, as well as into truly remarkable situations. It’s a career that has taken me all over the world. I have swum with dolphins in the South China Sea, hung from helicopters in Venezuela, crossed the Sahara desert, and climbed some of the world’s most spectacular peaks. But what’s most satisfying to me is to capture those rare moments when someone’s life changes forever. There is nothing more satisfying than bringing those moments back to an audience in a beautiful, cinematic form—a rare gift that can only be achieved as a documentary filmmaker.

TIMOTHY POWELL, PHD, is an internationally recognized, three-time Emmy award-winning filmmaker. In addition to working on over 350 episodes of network television for ABC, NBC, CBS, and FOX, he worked as a director and producer for eleven series for the Discovery Channel and Discovery Networks. He also spent five years producing and directing for the documentary series, National Geographic Explorer, as well as productions for the National Geographic Channel. He has a long history with Walt Disney Productions and Disney Entertainment, including live shows, network television specials, and documentary programs. He has traveled all over the world, filming documentaries and events in twenty-eight countries. His credits also include series for BBC Worldwide, PBS, Lifetime Network, A&E, USA Network and the WB Network. He currently teaches film and television production at San Diego State University.

Timothy Powell