Media

new media and technology, copyright, media theory

new media and technology, copyright, media theory

Understanding Comics

July 8, 2009 by Roy Johnson

the techniques, philosophy, and interpretation of comics

Whenever there is a discussion or an exchange of messages concerning comics or visual narratives, one name crops up again and again – Scott McCloud. Understanding Comics is his now classic work on the comic designer’s art. It’s presented in the form of a comic itself – but don’t let that fool you. He could just as easily given his book the sub-title ‘The Philosophy of Graphic Narratives’. He starts with a chapter defining what comics are (sequential visual art) and shows something of their history, going back as far as Egyptian wall paintings in 1300 BC.

If at first this seems rather obvious or over-simplified, two or three pages into chapter two, he is discussing the theory of visual perception and the nature of iconic language. Next comes the sequencing of action and the decision of what goes into (and what can be left out of) each visual panel of a comic. There’s a very interesting comparison of American and Japanese techniques in which he argues that some of the special effects of the Manga comics arise from different traditions of perception in the East.

He explains the depiction of time and motion via the panel or frame. In fact after doing the same thing for emotion by the use of symbols, he extends his argument to claim that we are in an age where a whole new visual language is in the process of being invented.

The traditional modes of dealing with narrative via showing and telling are demonstrated by the same story being related via pictures and words, then re-combined to show the comic creator’s skill in offsetting one medium against the other to avoid tautology and maximise expressive density.

This is a book which will entrance any comic lovers or anybody who has an interest in media studies or how ideas and stories are transmitted.

Quite a lot of these issues of graphics, narrative, point of view, and are now an active part of online, web-based information. I’m sure he will be aware of that, and I’m sure he will take it into account in any future editions.

He ends with what is obviously a heartfelt plea that comics should be taken seriously as a cultural genre, and he extends this to claim that they haven’t yet even scratched the surface of what they are capable of expressing.

Buy the book at Amazon UK

Buy the book at Amazon US

Scott McCLoud, Understanding Comics, New York: HarperCollins, 1994, pp.217, ISBN 006097625X

More on art
More on media
More on design

Understanding Media

July 9, 2009 by Roy Johnson

re-issue of classic 1960s media studies text

This is the book which made McLuhan famous with the phrase ‘The medium is the message’. Understanding Media was issued as a warning to the many pundits who refused to take seriously what we now call ‘media studies’ – though his range was much wider than just communication. The first part is a critique of contemporary culture – ‘electric’ as he calls it. Much of this is couched in rash generalisations and dressed up in some of his slightly batty distinctions – such as those he makes between ‘hot’ and ‘cool’ media. All this is steeped in a rich soup of cultural references. On any single page you might be taken from Matthew Arnold and Edward Gibbon, to de Tocqueville, E.M. Forster, and the World Health Organisation.

The second part consists of meditations on cultural phenomena ranging from clothing and money, to transport, comics, radio, and the telephone. These tend to be thought-provoking and patchy rather than systematic – but it has to be remembered that reflections on the cultural significance of television shows, advertising and motor cars was something of a novelty forty years ago.

Since all media are extensions of ourselves, or translations of some parts of ourselves into various materials, any study of one medium helps us to understand all the others.

He has interesting observations to make on anything from clocks and bicycles to advertising and weapons – and these are often delivered in a witty and epigrammatic manner.

There’s a lot of generalising about the relationship between technology and history (or ‘civilization’ as it was still called back then) and he places a great deal of reliance on books such as Arnold Toynbee’s A Study of History and Louis Mumford’s The City in History.

His reflections on the typewriter made me wish he had lived long enough to comment on the word-processor and the computer – surely two of the most powerful and widely used devices of the ‘electronic age’. This is a lively and a thought-provoking book. If you didn’t read it first time round, this is a good chance to catch up.

Buy the book at Amazon UK

Buy the book at Amazon US

Marshall McLuhan, Understanding Media, (first published 1964) London: Routledge, 2001, pp.392, ISBN: 0415253977

More on digital media
More on technology
More on theory

Wordless Books

May 24, 2009 by Roy Johnson

the original graphic novels

Wood engravings, linocuts, and, copperplate engravings have all existed for centuries, but it wasn’t until the early years of the 1900s that artists began to use them for creating book-length ‘stories without words’ which aspired to be the equivalent of novels. These are what we now call graphic novels. These illustrators were closely associated with the visual world of German expressionism, particularly that of Oskar Kokoshka and Ernst Kirchner. The two most prominent figures in this movement were Frans Masereel and Lynd Ward, though David Berona, in this thoughtful and well-informed work of homage to the genre also includes examples by Otto Nuckell, and the more recent Willam Gropper, the American Milt Gross, Giacomo Patri, and Laurence Hyde.

He quotes the celebrated comic-book theorist Scott McCloud as observing that these woodcut stories were an important bridge between the nineteenth century and the modern day comic. He includes extracts from a number of Masereel’s wordless books – almost all of them dealing with the de-humanising effect of capitalism on the common man. His best-known work, The Passionate Journey (1919) was the nearest Masereel came to creating a novel in pictures – a story of Everyman at the start of the last century. It’s a tale very close in both substance and mood to Doblin’s later Berlin Alexanderplatz (1929).

Berona gives an account of Masereel’s other wordless novels, illustrating their somber black and white pages and describing their stories. He doesn’t go in for any profound analysis, which given the youthfulness of this art form at the time might even be a good thing.

The American artist Lynd Ward actually used the graphic novel form to explore issues of slavery and race in US culture, as well as the oppression that common people felt as a result of the Great Depression.

It has to be said that many of these ‘novels’ are often not much more than extended adolescent fantasies of the kind that are thrown up time and again in ‘creative writing’ classes. But what makes them very different is that they are executed dramatically and with visual finesse via these authors’ control of a two-dimensional visual medium.

It’s a world of tilting skyscrapers, menacing shadows, vertiginous perspectives, drink and debauchery, children born out of wedlock, and people set against sunrises with outstretched arms.

Almost all of these illustrators were on the side of the small, common man, and against the might of the capitalist, the owners of the means of production.

Some of the later examples, produced in the late 1920s and 1930s by American artists such as Milt Gross and Myron Waldman are very close to the comic book tradition which was emerging around the same time.

There are also lots of original book jacket covers reproduced here, as well as fully documented details of the artists, their works, and other publications related to this neglected niche of visual narratives.

It’s strange to note that apart from minor differences which arose from working with wood, lino, or even lead, the styles adopted by these artists were all remarkably similar. The graphic novel is now a thriving genre in its own right, with many distinguished illustrators working in the medium. But this is a valuable collection of the work of pioneers.

Buy the book at Amazon UK

Buy the book at Amazon US

David A. Berona, Wordless Books: The Original Graphic Novels, New York: Abrams, 2008, pp.255, ISBN: 0810994690

More on design
More on media
More on web design

Writing for Television

August 14, 2016 by Roy Johnson

interviews with successful writers for television

Writing for television and writing for the cinema are no longer the same thing. New systems of network and cable scheduling have produced what are called ‘long-form television narratives’. These are programmes that run for thirteen (or more) episodes. Each programme is a single whole story – but it is split into separate self-contained units, each one of which will have its own story ‘arc’. That is, each episode is a drama in itself, with a beginning, middle, and end. As one successful screenwriter observes:

The best of television is like a novel. You have episodes like chapters, you can grow the characters, and there is scope to the stories

The interviews in this fascinating collection are with professional American television writers, but the practices they describe spill into British and even pan-European enterprises – all driven by very similar commercial imperatives. The majority of programmes (‘shows’ in US parlance) produced in these new formats are written by teams working in what’s called a ‘writers’ room’ – a group of scriptwriters working under the direction of a ‘showrunner’ – someone who decides on the look and feel of the finished programme.

The writers discuss all the major recent successful programmes – Sex and the City, Sopranos, The Wire, Breaking Bad, Mad Men, and Boardwalk Empire, and if some of the shows are not so well known you can watch them on YouTube, as I did Tina Fey’s hit 30Rock.

The strength of these new TV formats is that they are exploring new methods of delivery for fiction via visual presentation. They also provide scope for the development of character in considerable depth, in the same way as is common in good novels. The weakness is that some of these ‘shows’ are not much more than soap operas or vehicles for quick-fire quips (see Two Broke Girls).

One other feature worth observing is that many of these programs present the lives of young people who are preoccupied with ‘dating’, flat-sharing, friendships, and lifestyle choices that are the concerns of normal people in their early twenties. But they are acted on screen by people in their 40s and 50s. This presents a credibility challenge to any critical viewer – and strangely enough the phenomenon is so widespread it is almost undetectable, having become the norm.

This studio and writers’ room format has some bizarre and counter-intuitive ‘unwritten rules’. One is that ‘wives don’t cheat’, another is ‘no crime in the ghetto’. In other words, any leading married female character must not be depicted committing adultery – though it is perfectly acceptable for her husband to do so. And even though statistics show that the majority of crimes committed by ethnic minorities (for which, read African-Americans) are against people from the same ethnic group, the studios think that ratings will be lost if such scenes are written into episodes.

The interviews reveal differences in practice between studios in New York and in Los Angeles. Almost all the original writing goes on in California – but an increasing number of shows are actually filmed in New York, because the state offers tax breaks for works shot within its boundaries.

The writers have several things in common – the most notable being that none of them want to work in the cinema. A writer can invest time and creative effort in generating a script, but feature-length films are so colossally expensive to produce, many of them end up not being made at all. One of the interviewees bemoans the fact that a feature film script she has written and had accepted was still being sent back for re-writing after four years. These television writers prefer the faster-paced world and more immediate results of Network and cable television.

The rewards can be enormous – with salaries rising to (Writers Guild minimum) $3,500 per week. But be prepared to work long hours. These people are working under immense pressure to write, edit, produce, and film for thirteen episodes per season, working with co-writers, showrunners, actors, and technicians. Eighty hour weeks are considered normal. And if this all seems very USA-centric, take heart. These well-paid writers have enormous respect for English productions such as The Office, Downton Abbey, and Broadchurch.

And if all this seems way beyond the reach of some aspiring script-writer trapped in a suburban box room without even the fare to travel to Los Angeles, there is a very encouraging chapter on writing for Web TV. Susan Miller outlines the whole process of creating short films using hand-held video cameras and editing the results into a series that runs on the Internet. Have a look at Anyone But Me and The L Word to see examples.

Buy the book from Amazon UK

Buy the book from Amazon US

Christina Kallas, Inside the Writers’ Room: Conversations with American TV Writers, Basingstoke: Palgrave-Macmillan, 2014, pp.184, ISBN: 1137338105

More on digital media
More on writing skills
More on creative writing

Writing for the Screen

August 9, 2016 by Roy Johnson

guidance manual for authors in cinema and television

Writing for the Screen is a guidance manual that combines practical and theoretical advice for would-be writers aiming for success in the cinema or television – though such aspirants would do well to add Youtube and laptop productions to their list of potential delivery platforms.

Although both writing for the screen and writing for print publications largely involve sitting in front of a keyboard generating text, there are huge differences between the two activities. A print writer (journalist or novelist) works alone, has virtually no costs other than time, and generally expects to be the sole proprietor of the finished product. A screenwriter on the other hand is forced to work as part of a team, is likely to incur lavish costs, and will more than likely be replaced as ‘author’ by the director when the credits roll on opening night.

That is probably the single most important lesson that runs through all the chapters of this very successful book. The aspiring screenwriter must be prepared to recognise that soap operas, docudramas, comedy shows, feature films, and even TV shorts are productions, in which the writer is only one member of the creative whole.

The successful screenwriter is somebody who realises that a screenplay is only the rough blueprint for a work that other people will eventually create. The producer, the director, and maybe even the script editor all have higher status and can change the writer’s work to suit the ultimate purpose of the project.

The writer should also bear in mind that having chosen a large or small screen as the medium by which a story is to be transmitted – the visual element takes precedence over all else. It does not matter how subtle or witty the dialogue or commentary is, it will be the pictures which have greatest impact on the viewer. (That’s why directors get higher rating.)

This guide goes through the whole creative process step by step. It begins with writing a pitch, an outline, and a treatment. These are condensed accounts of what you have in mind, but each one has a different purpose. They include a selling document, a summary of the plot, and a step outline giving the bare bones of each scene.

All of these documents (including the script itself) need to be presented according to the conventions of the medium in professional format. Fortunately for beginners, software is now available at Celtx (free), and Final Draft (paid) which will arrange the formatting. You simply add the words.

There’s a very enthusiastic defence of genre which the authors argue is a strengthening factor to any screen production – because it offers structure, plot, tone, character, and even objects that are recognisable to viewers. Whilst this might seem to produce cinematic clichés, there is also an exploration of alternative forms of narrative – such as reverse chronology (Memento and Groundhog Day) multiple protagonists, and parallel narratives (Stephen Daldry’s magnificent film The Hours).

The underlying argument of the guide is that the finished product must offer visual pleasure – which is not to be confused with special effects and CGI manipulations – although there is a spirited analysis of the Jason Bourne trilogy. The authors argue that its car chases and explosions are more than cheap sensationalism a la James Bond, because they are closely tied to the psychological complexity and terror
endured by the protagonist as he is being threatened by the CIA.

The main emphasis of the advice offered in this manual is on the over-riding importance of structure:

The main writing currency in fiction is prose style, whereas the main currency in screenplays is structure. This means teaching is approached differently: for fiction, free-standing writing exercises are offered, focusing on language, metaphor, voice and description; screenwriting deals with acts, step outlines, cards and character arcs

There are practical exercises for generating these skills, and solid advice from the world of professional cinema and television explaining the separate roles in production teams, the opportunities open for beginners, and the differences between commercial practices in American and British film making .

Buy the book from Amazon UK

Buy the book from Amazon US

Craig Batty and Zara Waldeback, Writing for the Screen, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008, pp.201, ISBN: 0230550754

More on writing skills
More on creative writing
More on digital media

YouTube: an insider’s guide

July 3, 2009 by Roy Johnson

an insider’s guide to climbing the charts

YouTube didn’t start until 2005, but now it’s mainstream New Media. Why? Because it allows small time punters like you and me to upload video clips which – if they’re interesting enough – will be watched by millions of viewers. And that, if you work the system right, can be converted into a generated income. YouTube has gone from hobbyist niche to big business in just a few years. It was so successful, Google snapped it up for a cool $1.6 billion a year later, and now everyone from hobbyists and amateur daydreamers to semi-professional film makers is posting stuff up there – at the rate of ten hours of video every minute.

If you’re not used to searching for stuff on YouTube, you’ll be amazed at the variety. There’s everything from instructional how-to films, reviews of new products, personal diaries, stand-up comedians, and extracts from movies, to recordings of live theatre and musical concerts. This is a book of technical guidance written by two insiders (or ‘Tubers as they call themselves) showing you how it’s done. They make their purpose very clear right from the start:

You don’t need money or corporate backing to go viral. You simply need a very good, or very bad, video and the know-how to get viewers to your video – both of which you will learn how to do in this book.

After a quick introduction they pitch straight into the main issue of how to make good short films – which is the very basic issue of storytelling. And the emphasis is on brevity. Your maximum upload is only ten minutes, but if you can’t make your point in two you’re dead.

Sometimes people get lucky and video their pet kitten just as it falls of a table chasing a fly, or they might capture a car just after the driver has turned up a one-way street. But these are just one-offs. This book assumes that you want to make regular short films until one gets you into the most-watched slot.

Actually, most of the instruction is already in the form of YouTube visual content. There are lots of clips available showing you how to direct and edit films. They also realistically assume that you want to do all this with minimum expense. That’s not a problem. You use yourself or your friends as actors, and you only need a cheap digital video camera. In fact professional film makers such as Mike Figgis and David Lynch already use them for creating full length feature films.

There’s also advice on microphones, lighting, props, background music, and of course editing. Then once you’ve got something to share, they show you how to create your own channel (profile) on YouTube, and how to customise it and start attracting viewers.

There’s a good chapter explaining the significance and differences between fair use, copyright, parody, remixes, and mashups – then on to the all important business of generating an audience. This can go from responding to visitor comments and participating in user groups and collaborative video projects, to all sorts of semi-legal and downright illegal hacks which can result in your account being suspended. YouTube does its best to make the popularity figures genuine for the materials it hosts.

The logical extension of all this is making money from your work – monetization if you want to use the current jargon. This can be done via YouTube’s partnership program or by running Google Ads. And finally, although they remain loyal ‘Tubers throughout, they end up by showing lots of alternative outlets where you can make your work available. There are also interviews with successful YouTubers who have gone viral and even landed jobs as the result of a two-minute spoof of some TV ad or pop promo.

Buy the book at Amazon UK

Buy the book at Amazon US

Alan Lastufka and Michael W. Dean, YouTube: an insider’s guide to climbing the charts, Sebastopol (CA): O’Reilly, 2008, pp.281, ISBN: 0596521146

More on digital media
More on technology
More on theory

Media

new media and technology, copyright, media theory

the techniques, philosophy, and interpretation of comics

re-issue of classic 1960s media studies text

the original graphic novels

interviews with successful writers for television

guidance manual for authors in cinema and television

an insider’s guide to climbing the charts

Get in touch