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226 15 writing the final narration As the film has been progressing through its various stages, you have probably been drafting a narration line, and perhaps even the tentative narration itself. Certain films, such as a historical documentary, require that you think about the narration very early on. Other films, heavily dependent on interviews and verité techniques, may allow you to proceed much further without thinking about the commentary. However, the moment comes when you have to write the definitive narration. That moment is usually just before or just after finishing the fine cut. It’s a challenging task, but one which in the end is tremendously satisfying. In the 1940s and the 1950s, almost every documentary was accompanied by commentary. In recent years, though, a school of filmmakers has emerged absolutely opposed to the use of narration. This opposition stems from various beliefs, from a dogmatic assertion that it is a Fascist practice (de Antonio’s belief) to a feeling that pure verité has eliminated the need for commentary. In practice, there are some serious drawbacks to commentary that cannot be ignored. Very often, it tends to be authoritarian, giving the impression of the voice of God speaking through the mouth of Charlton Heston or Kenneth Branagh or Jeremy Irons. The tone can be patronizing, and if it is done badly, narration can seem like a horrendous lecture forced upon the Writing the Final Narration 227 audience. Finally, instead of stimulating thought and participation, narration can produce a deadly passivity that distances the viewers from the film. However, I think there is a much more positive side to narration. For example, though pure action films and the verité efforts of Leacock and the Maysleses can work well with no commentary, the complex essay, historical, or political film almost always demands commentary if it is to have any level of seriousness. Narration can quickly and easily set up the factual background of a film, providing simple or complex information that does not arise easily or naturally from the casual conversation of the film participants. It can complement the mood of the film, and above all it can provide focus and emphasis. It does not have to judge what is seen, but it should help the viewer understand more fully the significance of what is on the screen. Taking a rigid stance that no films should have narration or that all films should have narration seems to me rather restrictive. Certain films work well without narration. Others are tremendously enhanced by narration. The job of this chapter is to ensure that when you are required to write narration, you can do it well. The broad function of narration is to amplify and clarify the picture . It should help establish the direction of the film and provide any necessary information not obvious from the visuals. In a simple but effective way, it should help focus what the film is about and where it is going. I quoted earlier from Agnieszka Piotrowska’s film The Bigamists. This is how her opening narration continues. Given that divorce is so easy these days and it’s perfectly acceptable to cohabit without the blessing of marriage, I wondered who so many people still do it. Lies, love, passion, illegitimate children—this is the journey I am taking you on. It is a passage through an emotional landscape of dark secrets, and sometimes unbelievable pain. The writing is simple but very effective in doing its job. It tells you where you are going and that the filmmaker is going to be involved as well. And it grabs you with words “landscape of dark secrets” and “unbelievable pain.” In my own film Stalin’s Last Purge, I wanted the viewer to understand from the start that he or she was going to follow both a personal story and a series of state crimes. With that in mind, I wrote the opening as follows: Postproduction 228 In January 1958 a man was found dead on a winter swept road in Minsk, Byelorussia. There were no witnesses. It seemed like a hitand -run case. But the dead man was no ordinary Soviet citizen. He was Solomon Mikhoels . . . the most famous Jew in Russia outside the Kremlin. As director of the Moscow Yiddish theater his productions had become the focus of Jewish life and pride in the capital. In the war Mikhoels had assumed another role, spokesman for Soviet Jewry and propagandist for Stalin. Now he was dead . . . but was it...

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