A message from the clock.
It’s an interesting exercise to sit by a clock and do nothing but listen to it tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. A humble lesson in taking time — literally ‘taking’ time to just sit and listen.
The fact that time allows an unveiling of the most magical of things is what I love so much about cinema vèritè — that wonderful french film movement of the 1960s were people were depicted in everyday situations, using authentic dialogue and natural action.
It’s this style of filmmaking that I love applying in my documentaries. Capturing those raw, real moments that are not scripted or contrived.
It’s also something that takes time. Time to get to know the person/people I film even before I take the camera out. An investment in time that generates the type of gem moment on film that can’t be otherwise obtained.
For me, there’s something magical about capturing spontaneous moments and emotions which is part of the reason I’m passionate about documentary filmmaking. I’ve been involved in many productions that have been completely unscripted and filmed, on location, day by day — capturing actions and emotions as they occur and then piecing them together in the edit suite to create a story that is genuine.
So every time I find a clock, I stop and listen to the sound it makes as the hands move in motion — tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. Because I know what time can reveal. And that, in it’s pure simplicity, is often the most magical of all.