Category Archives: Section 2



Long take. Michalengolo Antonioni? Andrei Tarkovsky?  Yes, but not only. We say M. Night Shyamalan and Quentin Tarantino.  We say section two group two long take!  We say suspense, experimentalism, and mystery.

Long takes are rare because of their relatively high expense and complexity.  Usually long takes are carefully constructed, but what if we wanted to put the long take in charge and see where it would take us? We are not afraid to use bare corridors, to forego a sound track, and to use a minimalistic mise en scene to take the viewer on an emotional roller coaster ride.  The familiar setting where the plot unfolds causes the viewer to believe that there is no way anything extra-ordinary waiting to unfold. However, the power of the Long Take transforms this seemingly innocent and common backdrop into an uncanny and preternaturally strange stage that projects the emotions of the protagonist on the un-expecting viewers. Furthermore, it is estimated that any shot longer than about fifteen seconds will seem lethargic to viewers from Western cultures, but, we are here to challenge your perception and your viewing habits!

Long take is more than a technique; it is real time cinema that interpolates the viewer into the narrative of the film experience unfolding before them.  Thus, with Long Take, we as cinematic voyagers have the unique opportunity to connect with the diegetic world on a level much more intimate than any other form of film.  Every second our emotional investment in the shot increases exponentially; we become enthralled with each wave of  emotion that crashes down upon the protagonist.

The secrets of the all powerful Long Take will not come so easily to you.  Watch!  And you will experience the magic.  One thing can be said: we do not recommend wandering around dark hallways—alone.

— Shushana Manakhimova, Brian Parker, Dylan Kane, Matthew Rea

BLACKOUT- S2G2: Montage


Through the use of montage style editing, Blackout tells the story of a night gone horribly wrong and the repercussions the night had on those involved. Montage allows us to simultaneously communicate two stories, intertwined by crosscuts, intercuts, flashbacks, and the like. The rapid succession of cross cuts and intercuts enhances the element of mystery inherent in our story.  The premise of revelation is reflected by the disorienting affect that montage establishes.  As individual clips are sewn together into a continuous story via audio transitions and filter effects, the audience, along with the characters, slowly piece together their night. Their confusion is paralleled and dramatically enhanced by the discontinuity that is montage.

To further distinguish the disjuncture in time that takes place between the two stories; a wide range of editing techniques and filters allow us to transform the mise en scene of a flashback. Rendering a shot to look more granular and blurry shot evokes the hazy perspective of the characters as they recall, bit by bit, what happened the night before. To establish continuity between the two stories, we used multiple examples of match-on-action cuts to strengthen the correlation between the two scenes. Recall when Jake first realizes the blood on the wall, the audience is thrown into an astounding flashback that ends in beautiful symmetry as he smears the blood in the first place. This climatic revelation is amplified as the audience is simultaneously connecting the dots with the main characters.

When dealing with A+B=C, every scene is important. The impact of the film hangs on the subtle or blunt style of montage editing. The power of montage cannot be overstated as one of the most crucial weapons in any directors arsenal. Only through this style could we intricately weave together the key elements of a multi-layered story.  The ability to create a new meaning out of two different scenes is vital to a complex film. Take, for example when Jake touches his eye in the bathroom, and a brief flashback reveals a glimpse of the nights previous events. A long take would lead the audience down a straight and narrow storyline, whilst montage creates the vital elements of mystery and tension. Clearly montage is pivotal to the engagement of the audience and critical to the evolution of film itself.


Food for Thought

Food For Thought – a montage of the intersection between academia and cupcake dream-world – reveals the colorful, imaginative place that exists within a student’s thoughts.  In playing with the compilation of shots set within a seemingly mundane, austere white room – a markedly concrete physical place – the mise en scene highlights the distinct spontaneity in one’s mind – a more abstract, uninhibited place. In this way, Food for Thought illustrates the wandering thoughts and imagination that overlap with the more structured process of studying economics models.  The cupcake’s characterized performance in the montage, developed through point of view shots that suggest its opposition to the student at the climax of the film, offers a sense of theatricality and whimsicality in the cinematography.
The power of the montage in craft and structure compliments the film’s thematic agenda – to question and stretch the audience’s ideas through disjunctive and cumulative comparison. Temporally, the narrative follows a linear trajectory, in which the story develops collectively from beginning to end.  The music takes the audience on a journey parallel to the student’s metamorphosis, evolving from a meditative classical piece, to a questioning drum beat and finally resolving with a whimsy jazz tune.  The editing, in contrast, is often disjunctive.  The narrow shots of the face-off between mouth and eyes and cupcake appear at odds with the longer takes of the student studying in the book-end shots of the film.  This disjuncture in the montage supports its objective to distinguish distinctly fun playful thought from bland academic study, while uniting them in one place and time within the student’s mind.


made by Brittany Thomas, Maddie Joyce and Miriam Nielsen



The Montage vs. Long take Wars is on ongoing battle. As we approach the Day of Judgment — as to whether or not Montage or Long take will be crowned champion — we grow more and more nervous by the minute but realize we have grown knowledgeable of the film process. Our idea began with a revelation: bank robbery.  We decided the vicious cycle of humdrum overuse of montage in intense, suspenseful action sequences must end with our masterful creation. The second step in our adventure to create a masterpiece took form with the first meeting of the brilliant minds of Angie, Ben, Emily, and last but certainly not least, Thomas. The brilliance of us four masterminds intimidated us at first, but they managed to channel the fear into a competition to come up with the best idea. But despite a competitive intellectual atmosphere there was a 100% collaborative camaraderie that gripped us all.

After the story boards were drawn and the actors were prepared, we trudged out into the freezing cold with nothing but victory and greatness on our minds. As we taped the words “Town Bank” onto the large mahogany doors of Axinn Center, the red Prius gleamed in all its splendor, reflecting the image of the sun for all to see. Soon we were off, shooting every image we deemed appropriate for up 25 seconds or more. We pushed onward to scenes taking place inside a simulated vault where our very own Angie would pose as a stunning Bank Teller that was filled with fear while at the mercy of a furious robber. Soon we were done shooting all the scenes, long and proud and ready for the chopping block that was Final Cut Express.

Following the transition from the Flip camera to computer, we faced many trials and tribulations. Dealing with the fatigue and anxiety of the weeks passed and our near future, we quickly grew weary of the editing process. However, our determination and perseverance, coupled with our wit and skilled hand, would soon pour onto the computer screens of the Macs in Axinn 105. “Brilliance,” we shouted as we orchestrated the final steps of our journey. We celebrated, doing the Stanky Leg.



Oh yeah, then we uploaded it.



3:00 minutes

original cut:

Blink: A Meditation

It is premeditated. You know what to do. You look at a piece of paper, pick it up, hold it within purview and start writing. Expectations of what you might scribble have already constructed themselves in the cobwebs of your mind. You anticipate writing about a film project and its constituents. This is routine[1]. It is an assignment, it is something you are required to do, something that you have to write, read or assess. It does not have to be conscious; it just has to be done. You flip through your notes, words jump out at you and you feel an overwhelming urge to hold them in your palm and let them flow through your pen to paper. Your lips emit verbal diarrhea, attempting to lock into words of cumulative meaning, the knowledge we absorb week after week. Jargon, technicalities, industry speak: synchronousextradiegeticinterpellationintertextsemioticsmiseenscenesymbollongtake.

Not this time though, no, no, no.

This time you will take it slow. You will pause amidst the madness and chaos that is the daily routine we live and perform. You will open your eyes in the morning but not like you’ve done everyday for the past six thousand nine hundred and thirty five days[2]. You will open your eyes with the awareness that you are an intelligent, living, breathing miracle. As you, one in twenty four hundred, brush your teeth, get dressed looking out over the Vermont countryside, walk out into the invariably brisk air, you realize that even though your actions feel mundane, routine, and ordinary, it “doesn’t make [your] actions meaningless.” You will pause before you make the beeline for the cereals to beam a quick smile at the workers who put breakfast together for you. You are entirely encapsulated in the March breeze, drifting towards a classroom where knowledge is served on a shiny silver platter for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

You will live, entirely and exuberantly in the silences. In the spaces between the series of seemingly mundane actions and events that clutter your every day, you will seek solace. In those moments, you will be fully conscious of the footsteps you leave behind as you wander into new terrain, shoe shaped holes in deep earth. You will listen to minute melodies as they wrap themselves around you: doors creaking, a clock ticking away, students laughing at a distance, clatter of plates, sighs. As darkness settles into its comfy bed, so do you beneath your aqua sheets.

And that’s when you realize, “the world doesn’t just disappear when you close your eyes.” You don’t miss a thing when you blink, you only see farther and farther into the mysteries of tomorrows.

Free yourself from the rout(e) you are stuck in.

Conceived by:

Jacquelyn Breckenridge

Spencer Petterson

Alexandra Edel

Rhubini Kunasegaran

[1] Routine (noun): a habitual or mechanical performance of an established procedure.

[2] Nineteen years.


Hangover (Montage – S2G3)

3:00 cut:


3:49 cut:


Group members: Todd Bratches, Kiara Cobb, James McMillan


To view Hangover in optimum quality, please follow the link below:

Hangover – HD



In our film Hangover, we utilized the film editing technique of montage to juxtapose present day experience with flashbacks, in order to create a suspenseful and thought-provoking film that reflects the intricate links made in the human mind. The focus of our film is the main character, who must reconstruct his memories of the night before.  Waking up in the morning, he has no recollection of what occurred, but is slowly reminded through his actions. The film never explicitly determines what is real or imagined, and what is current or past. Montage is a form of editing that allows for seemingly organic representations of the fantastical, or on the other end of the spectrum, a representation of the human mind.

One of the most important aspects of our film is the confusion created from the flow of real time and flashbacks that hangs between the ordinary and illusion.  The audience is not sure whether the screen portrays a diegetically true or imagined sequence of events—much like the main character who cannot fully remember or understand the consequences of his actions the night before. Like the audience, Todd will not discover Kiara’s suicide until the end of the movie, if he or we realize it even then. The jarring absence of a sequentially comprehensive timeline is only possible through montage, because long takes are limited to showing real actions happening in real time.

Not only can time and place be changed onscreen in montage, but these changes can be made to physically represent the human mind—something that is difficult to explicitly show through long shots (it is mainly portrayed through acting, not editing). Our film was almost entirely based off of memories in Todd’s mind.  For example, the scene when Todd walks down the hallway that is switches back and forth from morning to evening shows the parallel in his actions, but with the ending of the movie, is more of a contrast; this is a juxtaposition that can only be accomplished through several cuts.

In addition to evident qualities that come with montage editing—building suspense, including a wider diegetic world etc.—there is the more subtle demand from the director for the audience to think about the specific cuts that are made. In a long take, the viewers must try and understand what happened before the scene, or what will happen as a result of a scene. With montage, all of that is shown on screen, and so we must try and understand why the director, or why the human mind, chooses to juxtapose certain memories or thoughts. In this way, montage editing goes one layer deeper in the cinematographic representation of the mind than long shot, and demands more thought and analysis from us as viewers.