Russell Carpenter’s Perfect Moments

When I was 13, I took a class where the teacher talked about different media every week. She showed parts of [Ingmar Bergman's] Persona. I didn’t understand the film at all, but the imagery – especially the opening montage – made the hair on the back of my neck stand up on end. My reaction was so powerful. I thought, "This process is truly magic. I would like some day to make an image that has that same effect on someone." When you look at the work of one of the gods of cinematography – a Vittorio Storaro, Connie Hall, or Haskell Wexler – you almost see the cinematographer as a shaman. I look for one or two moments in each film where I can try to get close to that.

Certainly in terms of pop myth, the whole on-the-bow sequence in Titanic, which happened as a lucky accident. We were scheduled to shoot a test on the bow to see how Kate Winslet’s clothes would react to the wind blowing through them. We got on the bow late and there was this incredible sunset. We had no rehearsal but just started filming, and the focus puller was completely winging it. Since we were experimenting with camera moves, nothing was the same twice. I had one light to make a dramatic impact on the faces, and I was able to get it up and working just in time as the real light faded to recreate the sense of a brilliant sunset. We were able to get 11 takes before the sun faded. Miraculously – because we were really flying by the seat of our pants – seven of those were in focus. [The scene was later re-shot on a stage, but it was photographed to match that original footage.]

"When you look at the work of one of the gods of cinematography… you almost see the cinematographer as a shaman."

As we struggle along as cinematographers, every step feels like a breakthrough. I find, looking back, that even movies I thought were bad to be involved with always had some unique experience that made them good. Sometimes I’d take footage from a movie that didn’t get released and use that to gain jobs. Sometimes I’d do a job and there was a great meeting within the job that set up a much more important film down the line. That’s the one thing I’ve found over time: everything’s valuable. Nothing is a write-off.

My challenge was keeping my job. I would walk into somebody’s office and they’d say, "I want to talk to you about these dailies- they’re just too dark. This isn’t a dark, moody series we’re shooting." I’d adjust, and then I’d get called in by the next producer and he’d say, "These dailies are too bright." It was a nightmare. I lasted four weeks and I got fired. And yet that set up my availability for Lawnmower Man, which at the time was a really good film for me to have done.

What I really enjoy now is lighting women. [Character-driven films are] more interesting for me to watch as a viewer than the latest mindless tentpole. I would love to work with a Meryl Streep [or] Emma Thompson. I just worked with Jane Fonda and Susan Sarandon. These are gifted women actresses who are past 40, and we have a culture that devours its young. It’s a tough thing. I feel very old-school as a cinematographer. I want to protect the leading lady. I’d much rather be doing that than the next big Bruckheimer film.

When I’m doing my best work, I’m taking what exists in reality, shattering it, and rebuilding it. To take a light and accentuate it and place it in juxtaposition to another shadow or piece of lighting in such a way that it feels like reality but would hardly ever happen in reality. It’s a sort of re-fabrication: the shattered-reality school.