Preface
My interest in writing this book began when I was finishing the practical course work for my M.A. in Editing at the Australian Film Television and Radio School (AFTRS). I was approached by the head of the editing department, Bill Russo, ASE, about the possibility of researching editing history and theory for the purposes of teaching incoming students there. From that discussion, the idea was to base my research on words that are frequently used, but infrequently defined in the regular course of editing a film,1 such as “structure,” “montage,” and “rhythm.” Bill's expertise in editing, as with most senior editors now working, came about through many years of practical experience. The AFTRS, in trying to train an editor in a few short years, was already very focused on providing a variety of practical editing experiences. Bill responded enthusiastically to my ideas for research because he wanted to know: What could film school offer that was different from working in the field? And, more importantly: Could principles be articulated and communicated that might otherwise be understood only through years of practice or experience?
In the course of my research I found that it was a relatively straightforward matter to draw together and teach many specific principles about Soviet montage theory, techniques of continuity cutting, structure, devices, and common scenes by studying films and books and talking to writers, directors, and editors. However, rhythm, as a topic, was elusive. A literature search yielded contradictory, limited, or inconclusive definitions. Experienced editors, although in agreement that rhythm (along with structure) is what an editor devises or realizes in a filmmaking process, were reluctant to try to articulate a definition of the word “rhythm” or talk about how it is made, beyond saying “it's intuitive.” Finally, David Bordwell and Kristen Thompson's Film Art threw down the gauntlet with the comment “the issue of rhythm in cinema is enormously complex and still not well understood.”2 Perhaps perversely drawn to the most ineffable, or at least the trickiest, topic of study I had yet found, I set out on my quest to understand rhythm in film editing.
Scholarly discussion of rhythm in film editing is rare, so I have had the opportunity to draw on a range of disciplines, including film studies, dance, and neurology, to formulate some principles about my topic. In this book I develop ideas about intuition in the cutting of rhythms, editing as a choreographic process, and the tools and purposes of rhythm in film editing, before going on to look at the different kinds of rhythms with which editors work and some of the different kinds of scenes and scenarios that vary the editor's approach to the film's rhythm.
Cutting Rhythms is a book about editing theory and practice and the creative processes, tools, and functions of rhythm in film editing. It is designed to enhance readers’ creativity in film editing by providing them with methods for developing their rhythmic intuition, a functional vocabulary for collaborative discussion of rhythm in film, and an analysis of kinds of rhythm in film and how they work. There are many books available on the technology of editing, some books on the history and craft, but few that offer editors and filmmakers specific ways of making their edits work better. Cutting Rhythms looks at something central to the art of filmmaking: rhythm, a word often used and rarely defined. Its ideas about what rhythm is, how it is shaped, and what it is for are intended to be useful to scholars of film studies who want to know how film is made and how it has its effect on spectators and, especially, for students and professional filmmakers who are interested in making great films.
ENDNOTES
1. In this book, I use the word “film” to refer to any screen work of a fixed duration, designed to be viewed from beginning to end. This includes video, animations, and, in some instances, digital media. It does not include any work with an unfixed duration or intended for nonlinear interaction, such as CD-ROMs, computer games, video or film installations, or web-based screen work. The rhythm of these is a fascinating matter for another inquiry and will not be addressed herein.
2. Bordwell, D., and Thompson, K., Film Art: An Introduction, pp. 196–197.