DIRECTOR COMMENTARY

CONCEPT

The movie theater is the most sacred place in the world to me. I see over 120 movies in theater per year, after all. But unlike most people, I do NOT go to the theater for the communal experience. The fewer people in the theater with me, the better. The quieter, the better. In fact, I am no stranger to renting out an entire theater on opening weekend just for myself for films that are important to me. And, I confess, at least once a week I will buy dozens of tickets surrounding my seat and refund them right before the movie starts so that no one is sitting near me. It is the one moral license I allow myself. It is just that important to me. Sorry.

So you can imagine my trepidation going to see WICKED on opening night in November 2024, sitting in a theater not myself, but an IMAX theater of maybe a thousand people surrounding me. It was a kind of culture shock, where I suddenly became hyperaware of all those around me, aware of the inherent trust I place in a stranger sitting directly behind me in the dark for two hours. That is where the image of the OTHER sitting behind you in a movie theater first came to me. That, in some ways, is where The Ticker-Taker was born. Thus began a period of reflection on the notion of vulnerability, of loneliness, of being alone... More on that to come when we dig into the psychology and state of mind of the characters.

There is a tendency in short films, not to mention features, to rather overtly broadcast the themes, as if the themes are not valid unless delivered in the form of soliloquy or like bad exposition. And this is why so many films end up with the emotional depth of, say, a Looney Tunes cartoon. MIDNIGHT MOVIE CLUB was an opportunity to challenge, if not subvert, this status quo. I wanted to make a film where the EXPERIENCE and the THEMES are one in the same-- We use imagery to address our theme. We use the camera movement. We use light. We use the performance. The hope is that the image of Eddie alone in the theater or the way The Ticket-Taker asks "Just one?" at the ticket booth says just as much, if not more, than any sledgehammer-style monologue.

CINEMATOGRAPHY

1.85:1 was the only choice for this piece. It is the single format that best reflects the verticality and vacuousness of the movie theater, not to mention the exteriors, and I was excited to compose in this format as most of what I dream up is in 2.00 or 2.35. Like before, we rolled with the Alexa 35 and a series of spherical lenses leaning on the wider range, which enabled us to preserve as much of the z-depth and immersive quality of the Gardena Cinema as we required. (If you read the commentary for DOOR, you know how I can wax on about wide angle and soapbox about default, film schooly cinematographic choices, so I will spare you that here.) And also like before, I like to shoot clean, with no filtration-- This not only enables a smooth visual effects production process, but even more importantly, it enables us to art direct the look with utmost latitude in post production.

Texture, I feel, is a tool that filmmakers too often leave in the box. As such, a large part of the visual design has to do with the film emulation process, where GRAIN, HALATION, and GATE WEAVE join forces to create the 16mm aesthetic we wanted. Colorist Daniel Straub had a lovely live grade going on the day, while we captured a clean digital negative underneath. Out of good practice, I am averse to locking myself into a look on the day-- It's not a matter of not knowing what you want. The job of the director is "knowing what the fuck they want," after all. Rather, it is a matter of having the maximum amount of control in the DI-- I want to be able to carefully calibrate the EXACT amount of halation or the EXACT amount of weave on a scene-by-scene or even shot-by-shot basis.

And this may be speaking the obvious, I am sure you can see that this short is an exercise in POINT-OF-VIEW-- Eddie is the clear audience surrogate, and our time in his POV is to put us right in his shoes. Just as with our technical and cinematographic choices, the shot size and shot design in intended to put you right there in the world of the film with him. I've spoken about this a little bit before, but part of selling this subjective POV was to preserve as much depth of field as possible-- Too often do filmmakers default to razor-thin planes of focus whether because it's trendy or because you don't have to light as much.

All the while, you can feel the creeping gaze and increasing agency of The Ticket-Taker's POV. Unlike Eddie's gaze and experience, The Ticket-Taker's gaze is an oppressive and sometimes predatory one-- His stature and his POV dictates that Eddie appears small in the frame, whittling at Eddie's sense of agency and power. Consider the shot where we creep down the aisle in the theater, unseen by Eddie, encroaching on him like an animal. Paired with Eddie's more innocuious gaze, hopefully there is a sense of mutualism or synergy to the way these two POV's blend and play.

PERFORMANCE

My first vision of The Ticker-Taker was much different that the one in the film. I knew he was meant to be a towering, uncanny figure, but I had first imagined him with glasses, a textured complection, and fuzzy red hair. Like this stranger I saw one time in Los Feliz many years ago. But the very second I saw Kyle Anderson, I knew I had found The Ticker-Taker. Kyle is a lovely guy, with a shock of red hair and leading man good looks a la Michael C. Hall. He also happens to be nearly 7 feet tall. I grew even more excited about him when I learned of his penchant for clowning, having studied the art form in Italy, no less. At the tech scout, it took very little coaching for Kyle to embody The Ticker-Taker's trickster spirit. Kyle is a mild-mannered, normal dude. Almost too normal. But once you put the white makeup and red vest on him... He transforms.

My direction to Kyle was succinct-- We spoke about how it would be less prudent to apply any kind of ordinary human psychology to The Ticker-Taker, but more applicable to think of the entity as an a kind of anthropomorphization of a real human emotion, a real human pain. In this case, loneliness. I think, for many people, there is a sense of shame or embarassment in being alone. For example, it is unheard of for many people to simply go to a film or out to eat by themselves for fear of judgment for being alone. I wanted Kyle to embody this idea in his eyes and his voice and demeanor. I wanted it to feel almost as if The Ticket-Taker was holding back laughter and about to burst out at any moment. We explored The Ticket-Taker as a kind of metaphysical loneliness vampire, feeding off the lonely like Pennywise feeds off fear. The rest of it was light and shadow-- As you can see, the camera loves Kyle.

While the film language and choreography were somewhat rigid, with precise frames and plenty of marks to hit, it was perhaps this project's greatest joy--and certainly its greatest surprise--to let Kyle's Ticket-Taker off the leash in the form of the 16mm B-roll. His sense of dance and fluidity and foreboding all at once is truly a wonder, and this short would not be the same without it. Shout out to 16mm DP Anthony Janssen for making it happen as well.

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It was a very different set of directions for protagonist Eddie, played by Matt Mercer. Eddie is a character I feel like I recognize-- The kind of guy you come across at Vidiots or Cinephile Video by the Nuart. But not just that-- It was extremely important that Eddie be not alone, but in some way afflicted by his loneliness, almost physically so. We discussed the kind of ACHE that can come with being alone-- I wanted to see it not just in Eddie's eyes, but also in his posture and his gait. We discussed the notion of this shame and embarrassment kind of pressing down on Eddie, kind of making him feel small. I told Matt to imagine he could FEEL this physically, right between his shoulder blade, right at the edge of him neck, pressing down on him. The brain treats social rejection similarly to physical pain, after all. On the day, all of this was funneled into a single, more tangible note: To play it as if Eddie got stood up on a date.

From his skepticism in the lobby when he scans over the opened box office door to the astonishment at the imagery on the movie screen, what I was most pleased with in Matt's performance was how he was able to channel his character's emotions and thoughts into his EYES. I think Matt being a filmmaker and editor in his own right makes him very aware of what will read on screen and what grace notes are needed. For example-- Take note of the final shot as Eddie retakes his seat-- Matt's performance very subtly hits notes of unease, curiosity, and even amusement all at once.

And of course, we wanted Eddie's wardrobe to inform the character as much as possible-- Matt prepared many options for Eddie to show me over zoom, but it was a faded green jacket in the far background of his room that caught my eye-- The one piece that wasn't his. I had imagined a kind of faded Travis Bickle green for Eddie's jacket, and this was unbeatable-- The color not only has a sickly, achy feeling to it--as if the very concept of malaise had an aura--but it was important that the green stand out from the prominent reds and warmer colors of the screen and cinema. The Jack Torrance-esque flannel underneath just the same.

SOUND & MUSIC

Just as I have grown weary of the exceedingly clean, default, and homogenous visuals in modern film, I have also grown weary of the overly produced, polished film scores that feel recycled from one film to the next. As such, what we needed for MIDNIGHT MOVIE CLUB was a film score and music accompaniment that complemented the textured, throwback 16mm aesthetic. Texture and reverb and character were some of the key ingredients we were looking for, and the scores from the original GOOSEBUMPS series had all of the above and more. Episodes like "Welcome to Horrorland," as well as my two favorite episodes "Go Eat Worms" and "Calling All Creeps" helped set the tone and demonstrate a kind of playful demeanor that was befitting of The Ticket-Taker and his world.

But the classic piano soon presented itself as the centerpiece element in our film score-- Something about its acoustics and vibrations and its range from high to low quickly established it as the hero sonic language for The Ticket-Taker. We looked back to the work of iconic avant-garde composer John Cage for our piano sound. For his "Prepared Piano," Cage would jam bolts and screws among other things into his wires to create a highly unusual, percussive, and even metallic notes-- Notes that were a perfect fit for the uncanny, off-kilter villain in our film. We also looked to the track "08-Pianoforte" in The Fascinating World Of Electronic Music, by Kid Baltan & Tom Dissevelt, another fascinating piece of experimental music with a raw, jarring, otherworldly piano sound. Evocative of John Cage, although from a very different school of though and methodology. Composer Sam Costello delivered beautifully on the vision, tailoring it to our film's specific tempo, all the while tipping a hat to the inspirations.

And of course, we borrow so much from the work of The Caretaker and his 6.5 hour magnum opus Everywhere at the End of Time. His song "Childishly Fresh Eyes" was a huge inspiration to MIDNIGHT MOVIE CLUB, and we even designed a large part of the shots, camera movements, and cuts in the first have of the short to this tune. Although The Caretaker's song "Childishly Fresh Eyes" was not available to license, we resorted to the out-of-the-box solution of licensing the source material that The Caretaker samples, "Moonlight and Shadows," as performed by Russ Morgan and His Orchestra in the 1930s, and degraded, slowed, and warped it ourselves from there. [NOTE -- We offered to credit and compensate The Caretaker even though his rendition was not able to be licensed, but we received no response.]

Underpinning it all is Sam's tactical sound design, which aspires to envelope the audience in the world of the film and to fabricate as much of an all-encompassing cinema experience without the luxury of Atmos. Without drawing too much attention to itself, the sound design seeks to guide us along Eddie's same path and to further sensualize the world around him. For example, you can feel the buzz of the marquee lights fade up as we get close and pass behind us as we approach the ticket booth window. Same for the neon lights behind the concession stand-- A subtle touch fading up as we approach it, almost calling us toward it. One of my favorite touches was Sam's use of SFX for the ticket stub subtly flapping in the wind, and later, the sound of the projector's frame advance mechanism works wonders just the same.

CONCLUSION

Like many monsters, The Ticket-Taker is born out of a real human emotion or pain. He is a kind of calcification of a certain loneliness that grew and evolved until it could walk on two feet and more.

The beauty of cinema--particularly horror cinema--is that it is a vehicle for exploring, then exposing, and ultimately capturing a certain demon. The four edges of the frame become the prison cell, like a genie's bottle, entrapping it and displaying it for all to see. This gives you power over the demon. This makes you stronger than before.

And it doesn't matter if you are sitting in a theater with a thousand others or all by yourself. Films can be beacons from the filmmaker to the audience, saying-- Somebody else has felt this way, too. And you are not alone.