Industry Screenings

Remembering the festival screenings for our production "Rainbow" prompted us to recall some of the other the screenings we had, both from a sales and technological view, on the first all-digital movie. Producing the film in conjunction with Sony Pictures High Definition Center, the studio saw it as an experiment for the future of the business; we approached it as a creative opportunity, a toolbox for the colour grading and visual effects that play such an important part of the story. But making the first all digital movie was more often a battle against scepticism and often outright hostility.

The first screenings (or part screenings) took place at Sony Studios while we were in post-production in the High Def facility at the Capra Building. It saw an assortment of creatives and producers visiting to see what craziness we were up to, including tours for people ranging from George Lucas to Michael Jackson. A main aspect was projecting cut footage from the movie on digital and comparing it to the same sequence transferred to 35mm film. Since every executive on the lot was initially so dismissive, claiming that only celluloid works in cinemas, it was a chastening experience when they so routinely couldn't tell which one originated on film stock. A peculiar concentration on motion blur missed the fact that much of 35mm enjoyment comes from the softness and the blur.

The demonstrations were curtailed after a few weeks due to overwhelming antagonism.

During the American Film Market in February of 1995, distributors and professionals were ferried over from Santa Monica to Culver City to view more extensive sequences. There was even an industry panel to explain what we were up to. Suspicions and doubt remained.

As such, it was left until the movie was complete, and the full transfer to neg and a print, for us to finally prove our madness. In fact the lab work and colour correction / colour timing was another elongated experience. Although we'd already performed a pass in the digital environment, including the desaturation of colour that’s an integral part of the story, once we were back to film it was an entirely different set of rules. First at Technicolor near Heathrow Airport with our great and contrary DP Freddie Francis. Sitting beside him as he gave instructions for the next version, notes taken by the timer as we watched a pristine print made just hours before, was to experience an art that is now long lost.

Next it was back to Canada for a further pass delivered through labs in Montreal and Toronto, such are the wonders of making an international co-production. In fact, the making of any filmed entertainment is an ongoing jigsaw that arbitrarily needs to be delivered rather than organically completed.

For us, that finally meant a screening at the end of the year for our distributors and investors. They wanted to see the creative results of the production as well as technical proof the system worked and there was a product that could be distributed in theatres. To meet the deadline, it's hard to believe we flew back from Montreal to London with a physical print (all six reels) actually in our laps. The screening was within hours of arrival and since we'd managed to safely navigate the return and subsequently delivered the film to the screening room, we were confident all would go well. After all, the location was BAFTA on Piccadilly. The home of British film. Technically all we wanted.

What could possibly go wrong?

'We had some issues with "Waterworld" last night,' was the somewhat throwaway explanation from one of the projectionists. At the time we were sitting in the middle of the theatre, sinking deeper into the seats as the sound gradually disintegrated on all sides during a rehearsal showing. As befits the technological breakthroughs involved visually, we'd pushed the aural boundaries, fully utilizing the possibilities of Dolby Digital's surround sound. So much so that when the Dolby consultant prepped the Montreal dubbing theatre, he told us that we couldn't use the rear and sides so much, that they were supposed to be 'discreet' channels. Our view was they were there to be maximized and we wanted to be more immersive, to create an experience.

Maybe it was some sort of revenge that at BAFTA, on that fateful evening, the meticulously designed sound so spectacularly collapsed.

With the rear speakers a murmur, the right side completely gone and the sub-woofer on its last legs with ominous crackling sounds, our desperate calls to Dolby went ignored. Meanwhile, just beyond the doors more than two hundred expectant and suspicious invitees waited. Patience was fast running out and the only solution was to ply them with copious amounts of alcohol.

Our darkening mood and cold sweats made the situation increasingly frantic, especially since there was no answer to the "Waterworld" issue - if there'd been a problem, why didn't they do something about it?! 'Well, that's the risk you have with film,' the infuriatingly blasé BAFTA head told us. 'Anything can go wrong.' It certainly reminded us of how vital a digital revolution was - and how amateurish supposed leaders of a parochial industry could be.

'David Puttnam had the same problem when he first screened "Chariots Of Fire" - and look how that turned out.' Blurred memories can't precisely pinpoint the reaction to this fount of wisdom. But a physical altercation was not far off the cards, especially when our own company partners started to accuse us that something had to be wrong with the film itself. In any case, as the delay agonizingly creaked over an hour and without any solution in sight (in fact it was actually getting worse), we were forced to set the reels spinning. A weep-inducing resolution to years of work.

An enduring memory is not just of the alcoholically impaired audience staggering into the theatre, but also fighting the projectionists to try and switch the volume up beyond '10' during the subsequent screening.

As an antidote, the Italian distributors invited us to Milan for a press conference and a special screening for schools. The cinema in the city centre was one of those grand old structures that towered high and felt like you were climbing to the heavens just to reach the projectionist's booth. A requirement to check everything was working properly well before any showing was now more than a necessity. The sound swirling round the vast auditorium was a thrill. The enormous screen was spectacular. Of course, the huge throw necessary meant a slightly dimmer image, but in the imperfect world of cinema projection that was a minor loss.

What we had certainly learnt through the experience of starting to change the cinematic process, and a form of exhibition that at the time had barely changed in almost one hundred years, was that people suspect anything beyond the current norm - without really understanding the need for revolution. The seductive beauty of celluloid would transition whether filmmakers were willing or not, though how radically it would change the industry not even we knew at the time.