Chapter 3

The Passing of a Tradition and Coming of Age

In the professional world of sound award achievements for film and television, the four standards are the Golden Reel Awards (Motion Picture Sound Editors), the CAS Awards (Cinema Audio Society), the Emmys (the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences), and of course the most coveted of all, the Academy Awards (the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences). Where the Golden Reel Awards, CAS Awards, and Emmy Awards present numerous awards each year for sound in many aspects and many categories, there is only one Academy Award each year for Best Sound Editing and one Academy Award each year for Best Sound Mixing.

THE PASSING OF A TRADITION

For a quarter of a century, members of the Academy had a unique, and somewhat peculiar practice of getting together on the first Tuesday of February (which was changed a few years ago to late January when the Academy Award ceremonies were moved to earlier in the year) at the Los Angeles headquarters of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. The top sound craftspeople in the motion-picture industry would gather—members of the Sound Branch of the Academy as well as several hundred associate observers and guests—to review those films competing for the honor of being nominated for the Academy Award for Best Sound Effects Editing, a title that was changed to Best Sound Editing in 2000. Only the Sound Branch Academy members were allowed to vote for the final nominations during this “bake-off” screening procedure.

Six weeks before, the sound-editor members of the Sound Branch voted by written ballot for five of their top sound editing choices from that year's nearly 400 qualifying motion pictures. Those ballots had been mailed to PricewaterhouseCoopers, at which point the seven semifinalists had been determined: those garnishing the highest number of votes by their first-through-fifth-choice ranking. The producers of the “anxious seven” were notified so that they could prepare a sample reel for the first Tuesday evening in February—the event affectionately known as the “bake-off.” (The term bake-off was coined by supervising sound editor Richard Anderson, who, along with Ben Burtt, won the Academy Award for Best Sound Effects Editing in 1981 for the action-adventure sensation Raiders of the Lost Ark).

The sample reel would contain actual clips from the release print of the picture. The soundtrack could not be enhanced, remixed, or reprinted: it must be identical to what was exhibited in the theaters. The task of choosing the clips that comprised the allotted 10 minutes in the bake-off was left to the supervising sound editor, as it was he or she who honchoed the preparation of the soundtrack for the rerecording mixing stage in the first place.

In the lobby of the Academy, representatives from PricewaterhouseCoopers checked off the names of the voting Sound Branch members as they stepped up to identify themselves. One representative checked the names on the list, as the other representative issued each voter a ballot, each assigned with a designated number for identification. The members were also given an information sheet regarding the seven pertinent feature films.

The voters headed up the staircase to the Academy's legendary Samuel Goldwyn Theater to see and schmooze with hundreds of colleagues, many of whom had not been seen since the sound bake-off the previous year. The center quadrant of seats were roped off and reserved for the award-nominating committee members, so that they could listen to and judge the sound presentation of each sample reel in the acoustically ideal section.

As everybody settled down at the appointed hour, the chairman of the Sound-Effects Editing Award Rules Committee would step up to the podium to review the year's rules as well as to lend a personal word of wisdom to those of us about to sit in judgment of our fellow craftspeople. This forum was not supposed to be about politics, although politics definitely dealt a few wildcards from time to time. Additionally, this forum was not supposed to be about personalities, about who we like or dislike as individuals—although there were times when it was a challenge to separate one's personal feelings and biases from the task at hand. I'd gaze up at the two massive statues of Oscar® on either side of the huge screen, reverently standing vigil over the presentation, here in the greatest of all theaters in the world, and I knew that as an Academy member I needed to put aside politics and personal favor. We were there not only to judge our colleagues but also to celebrate our art form and to be challenged throughout the coming year to raise our professional standards and artistic achievements accordingly.

During lighter moments, the chairman would inevitably poke a jab at the ever-rising volume of motion-picture soundtracks, as he thanked all the sound craftspeople over at Warner Brothers (some 14 miles away) who could not be here tonight but who would hear the playback of the sample reels anyway!

After 70 minutes of high-octane audio playback from SDDS, DTS, and Dolby SR-D mastered soundtracks, the audience experienced a good dose of audio fatigue. If ever there was a litmus test for considering the responsibility to monitor more reasonable volume levels, especially through sustained sequences that truly leave your ears ringing, those bake-off evenings were excellent reminders. Just because sound is mixed loud does not mean that it sounds better. Just because digital and the new achievements in speaker design and amplifier clarity allow sound to be brought into the theatre at ever-increasing decibel levels does not mean that it should be done.

As you read this book, consider the power of silence. Years ago, when I walked onto Stage D at Goldwyn for the rerecording process of Escape From New York, Bill Varney, the lead mixer, turned and announced to everyone that we were going to build dynamics into the mix. We all agreed enthusiastically. Of course, at the time I did not have a clue what he meant or what he was talking about, but over the next four years and 11 pictures for which I supervised the sound editorial that mixed on Stage D, I came to learn and appreciate exactly what Bill meant.

One must bring the soundtrack down; the levels should be lowered and relaxed between the high-energy action peaks. Not only does this give the audience a chance to recover from the strength and power of the action sequences, but coming down also allows the sound to go back up again. The power and volume appear bigger and louder than they really are if time is taken to come down and the audience's ears are allowed to rest.

If the soundtrack is constantly active and loud, the sound has nowhere to go when it must go up for the action moments. It is exactly like riding a roller coaster: you cannot enjoy the thrill of the high-drop runs unless you have come down to the bottom, paused, and anticipated the climb back up to the top again. A great classical composer also understood this principle extremely well. Beethoven, the master of mood and drama, composed a passage with notations of adagio or largo with a pianissimo delicacy, followed by a sudden explosion of power and glory at double fortissimo with a presto urgency. Those who have listened to Beethoven's “Moonlight Sonata” probably only know its melodious and moody opening movement. Those who have played this seemingly passive piece on the piano, however, surely understand my point when they dash through the third movement! Seldom are the strength and precise dexterity of the pianist's hands and fingers more greatly challenged.

So too the motion-picture soundtrack. While conceptualizing, designing, and executing a final soundtrack of dialog, music, and sound effects into one interwoven yet fluid and continuous audio event, the entire team of audio craftspeople does well to think in terms of dynamics—the entire roller-coaster ride.

Unfortunately, the entire sound team can design and execute the most amazing soundtrack ever, but if the director and producer do not understand the philosophy of dynamics and audio dramatization, then all the skill and efforts of the entire sound collaboration are for naught. Dynamics. It seems so obvious, so simple and basic, yet so many filmmakers fall into this trap. I discuss this and other audio philosophies more closely throughout this book, especially in Chapter 20, but you might be wondering why I took this moment to bring up the philosophy of dynamics at this time, in this chapter.

On this particular occasion, as the chairman of the Sound Branch finished his review of the rules and regulations and his duty of describing how the theatre speakers had been carefully swept and balanced for the evening's presentation, I sat and thought about literally thousands of the world's foremost theatrical sound craftspeople, most of whom are unsung heroes, who made it possible for the supervising sound editor to step up to the podium on Academy Award night and accept the golden statuette for Best Sound Editing.

How many production sound mixers, boom operators, cable men, audio engineers, sound-effects and dialog editors, sound assistants, sound designers, sound librarians, equipment and acoustical engineers, ADR and Foley mixers and recordists, Foley artists, walla group and vocal mimic performers, and many others had their work literally wrapped in an embryonic envelope of this left, center, right, and split surround-sound experience? How many long and overworked hours went into moments of the picture that we probably never fully appreciated?

The lights of the theatre dimmed as the first sample reel was about to be projected. I glanced up to one of the giant statues of Oscar® that had stood vigilant for many years, holding his golden sword as he watches over the audience. I could almost imagine he was looking at me. His smooth face had an almost omnipotent presence, silently reminding me to put any personal tendentious susceptibilities aside and to view these seven presentation reels with an objectivity worthy of the fair and idealistic judgment that Oscar^® represents.

THE EVOLUTION OF THE PROCESS

In the summer of 2006, the Academy made a major change in how the Best Sound Editing awards would be nominated and voted on, bringing them closer to how most of the other disciplines, such as Best Cinematography, Best Director, Best Actor, and so on, are considered.

The tradition of gathering at the Samuel Goldwyn Theater and reviewing the seven semi-finalist sound editors came to an end. On the one hand, it was a sad decision. However, it was time to evolve and find ways to make the process more in step with how the other disciplines were doing it—and hopefully making it a more fair and open proposition. (One of the drawbacks of the bake-off was that the Sound Branch members who did not live in the L.A. area often found it difficult to attend.)

Now we vote for our five top choices on a mailed ballot sent out right after Christmas. The Sound Branch members list their top choices and mail their ballot back. PricewaterhouseCoopers add up the votes and the five with the highest number of votes become the five nominations that appear on the final ballot that PricewaterhouseCoopers sends out to all voting Academy members for the final vote.

This simplifies the process and allows the Sound Branch members who may not live in and around L.A., or who are living or working outside of the United States, to have an equal say, thus deemphasizing the L.A.-based advantage that the bake-off could not help but encourage.

Even though I miss the getting together, the camaraderie, and the catching up each year with my fellow sound editors, I personally feel that the change is healthy for the art form and has opened up more craftspeople throughout the world in the process.

I am often asked exactly how this process works and why certain individuals are considered. The following is the exact extract from the rules and regulations of the Sound Editing award from the Academy, followed by the rules for the Sound Mixing award.

Special Rules for the Sound Editing Award

Special Rules for the Sound Mixing Award

HOW DID THEY GET HERE?

But how did these soundtracks get here? How did they survive the challenges and often stormy path to fruition? Let us go back, all the way back, even before the cameras start to roll. It all begins with the vision and dedication to achieve a work of audio art, an acoustical experience that stays with the audience. It starts with careful and realistic planning—a plan for success.