Film School Confidential: Brandon Cox
A profile of #stantonfilm alum and FSU Film student Brandon Cox.
JA: What happens in film school? What are your primary duties as a student?
BC: Film school is profoundly non-traditional: it’s still school, so you have classes and some degree of scholarship, but it’s far more focused on practical experience and workshops than it is on book and lecture based courses.
Throughout film school each student is given the opportunity to direct four short films — three narrative shorts (a four-minute, a six-minute, and a seven-minute thesis film) and a documentary short — and the structure of the program is based around those four productions.
You’ll have roughly half a semester of traditional class-based schedules — for example, a “Filmmaking 1” class where the instructor will give lectures about some basic filmmaking techniques; things like best editing practices, shot composition, visual storytelling, narrative clarity, and so on — followed by a production cycle where each student will make a film, with other students serving as crew members in every position.
During the class portion of school you’ll often be participating in camera and lighting workshops on soundstages, where you’ll take four or five hours and build a full camera and light setup to practice a specific situation and learn how to best tackle it — for example, how to shoot a nighttime driving sequence with a stationary car on a soundstage and make it look realistic.
In addition to those, you have the general “Filmmaking” course (which frequently instructs students in directing above all else), where you’ll create short, one-to-two minute projects every weekend and screen them to the class for feedback, and a screenwriting course where you’ll develop the screenplay for your next narrative project. At times throughout the program there will be a class focused on the business aspect of the industry — production management, for instance, which encompasses all of the logistics of running a set, so things like union rules and getting financing and such — but those are the minority of classes. Almost all of the film school’s actual classes are focused on honing your creative senses and helping you tell stories above all else. They want to make you storytellers and prepare you with technical expertise to execute your stories in the production cycles.
For the first three films you make — the four-minute short, the documentary, and then the six-minute short — every student will serve as every crew position once. This includes the major creative positions (known as “ATL,” or “above the line” positions) — director, producer, director of photography, production designer, 1st assistant director — and the more technical worker positions (“BTL,” or “below the line” positions), which include things like 1st assistant camera (they pull focus), key grip, gaffer (lighting), and sound mixer. This means that by the end of those first three production cycles — which last roughly three months each — you’ll be proficient in almost every job on set, and able to perform them all with a high degree of professionalism and competence.
Which all leads into the big capstone thesis production cycle, where every student is offered the opportunity to make a film, but there are no other restrictions on crew. If you don’t want to produce a thesis film, you don’t have to; alternatively, if you love producing and want to do that professionally, you’ll be able to produce multiple thesis films. I personally want to specialize in cinematography, so in addition to directing my own film, I served as the director of photography on two additional thesis films, and specialized working in camera and lighting departments for my below the line positions.
JA: How would you describe your program’s (FSU’s) strengths?
BC: The small class size is immediately something that will set FSU apart — with only 30 students in each class, you will have a chance to work with every single student in your class, often on a fairly intimate and direct level.
There’s definitely a sense of family among the class, and everybody works together because everybody truly wants everyone’s film to be as good as possible. Beyond that, having the exposure to so many different people, each with a different working style, gives you an idea of what kind of person you work well with and gives you invaluable experience with working with so many different people. You’ll come away knowing how to deal with somebody who maybe doesn’t move as fast as they need to, or knowing how to work under somebody who micromanages and doesn’t leave you much room to be creative, or knowing how to light a scene for a DP who isn’t giving you much direction.
Beyond that, having every student learn every role on set and perform that role in at least one production is invaluable. Regardless of what you want to do professionally, knowing what each person’s job is on set helps you work in a way that is constructive for everybody. You know what that person’s responsibilities are and how they intersect with yours, and you know how best to make that intersection productive and efficient rather than contentious. It also sends you out into the industry with a diverse skill set. If you can’t find work as a camera assistant, you can probably grip pretty well, and there’s a whole other side of production you can suddenly dive into to pay rent.
That’s another thing: when you get out into the industry, people know FSU. They know the intensity of the production cycles you’ve gone through (14+ hour days, six days a week for three months. That’s the summer that we just went through, to give you an idea of how intense it actually is), they know how professional the quality of work that comes out of the school is, and they know how diverse your skill set is. Alums frequently talk about how they’ve found jobs even from people outside the school’s vast alumni network who just implicitly trust that FSU stamp of quality. Going through such an intense program with such a breadth of experience gives you ample opportunity in the industry to take advantage of as you please.
There’s also something to be said for getting to make four films, whereas at most film schools you’re not guaranteed to make one, and having a full industry standard equipment package included with your tuition. For the last two films you make, you get access to an entire grip truck of equipment, which includes a RED Dragon camera package (complete with a full accessory kit and, sometimes, lenses), a set of lights ranging from small to fairly powerful, a J.L. Fisher dolly package, and all the assorted grip-gac equipment that lets you rig lights and shaping tools all sorts of places. It’s a package that would cost around $100,000 to rent for the amount of time we use it for each individual film, and it’s included with our tuition. That’s something you’ll not get at any other film school.
JA: What advice would you offer to potential applicants?
BC: It’s gonna sound corny, but: be yourself.
Don’t try to strut around any level of filmmaking experience. Definitely talk about it, but they don’t really care too much about what you’ve made before. What they care about is who you are as a filmmaker. What’s your creative voice? What do you have to say, and how are you going to say it? Why would you make an interesting person to have in their program?
There are several stages to the application, and getting through the initial stage is going to involve two things. 1) Having a portfolio that shows dedication rather than sheer accomplishment. A slate of a bunch of YouTube videos over several years that are just okay is going to be better than a single short five years ago that was pretty good for a middle schooler. 2) Having good test scores and academic performance. Good news: being in IB Film is a pretty nice advantage. They love IB kids at the film school because the IB program shows the ability to cope under stressful situations and succeed, and IB Film in particular is of great interest to them because it forces students to think critically about films, which is a huge part of succeeding in film school. Don’t overly talk IB Film up, but don’t be shy about your experiences in it. They’re going to be invaluable not just at making yourself stand out in the applicant pool, but also in terms of making you a successful film student.
During the interview process, they’re going to try and find out two things about you. 1, are you actually dedicated to filmmaking, or do you think movies are cool and might be a fun career? If filmmaking isn’t something you would do in your free time away from classes, then you aren’t the candidate they’re looking for. Lean into your passion for film. If that mention of 14+ hour days, six days a week scared you, then maybe think long and hard about whether or not this is for you. It’s intense. You will not sleep as much as you might like. A standard college experience is not something you’ll get. It’s going to be hell at times. But if you’re still game after all of that, then you’re probably dedicated enough. 2, what’s your voice? What about you and your life is going to make for an intriguing filmmaker? They’re going to teach you how to make movies, so what’s more important is having something to make movies about. What movies speak to you, and why? Be specific in your passion for certain things. “Dinosaurs are cool,” is not enough of a reason to talk about why Jurassic Park is your favorite film. “The sense of wonder Spielberg created is something I really liked as a kid, and I want to give future generations that same sense of wonder,” is your golden ticket. Specific reasons you are passionate about things, specific ambitions for filmmaking. What speaks to you as an audience member, and what experiences do you want to deliver to audiences?
As a disclaimer, the application process has changed substantially since I applied to the program, but talking to recent applicants and being involved in the admissions process has led me to believe this advice is still very solid and applies just as much today.
JA: Could you offer some commentary about the process of making the film and why you chose the subject, themes and techniques?
BC: One of the things I’ve discovered in film school is that every film I make is a reaction to the film I previously made. My first narrative short was a talky, four-minute exposition fest that delivered heaps of backstory about two characters to push a thematic ideal rather than anything visually interesting or engaging. So my second narrative film, Needle Fingers, was almost entirely silent and focused on telling the story 100% through the formal elements of film.
Needle Fingers was borne primarily out of a desire to make a classic horror film. I really admire the formal elements of the horror genre, and more than anything wanted to build a film that took advantage of those. The script began in a completely different place and started out as an exploration of my own fear of going blind. Ellie, the lead character, was originally Jack, a man, and wasn’t confined to her house as she is in the final film. Through the process of writing, I found that the story I wanted to tell was very difficult to fit into six minutes, so I shortened it and removed a few setpieces — including one that I was really proud of in which Ellie left a video camera recording overnight only to find its lens scratched beyond repair the next morning, with frightening, labored breathing captured in the audio that had no accompanying video footage — in order to bring it into scope.
All of this is a sort of reaction to my first film, which didn’t land with audiences because it was so bogged down in backstory that was laid out and carefully constructed in my head, but not on the screen. My challenge for this one was very simple: ditch all of that, ditch the heavy thematic ideals, and build up to a single emotional release. Tension and release. So I broke out all the standard horror movie tools: long stretches of silence with long, flowy takes and few cuts. Layered frames with something important happening on all three planes — fore, mid, and background — and not always drawing attention to things as to let the audience find them for themselves (see: the scratches on the eyes of the Javier Bardem cowboy painting in the background of the second studio scene, a good while before the full reveal). A focus on some sign of the eventual creature before the creature itself appears (the scratching, the painting, the eyes, her eye infection). All of these things gradually getting worse. Then a sudden, violent release, followed by an abrupt end, leaving the audience on that high rather than letting them come down.
We shot this film over two days on location. A Tallahassee resident was kind enough to essentially donate his home to us for two full days, and we managed to shoot all of our night stuff even during daytime hours simply by covering the windows with black cloth (Duvetyne) or black sheeting (visqueen). It was effective enough, but I wish we could have shot during actual night to get a little more definition out those windows in the bedroom especially. The studio room was built essentially from the ground up; normally it’s a small cozy living room like area, but my production designer transformed it completely by bringing in a lot of painting supplies and canvases to make it look like a messy artist’s work space. Good production design can really sell a movie; don’t neglect it!
I definitely think horror is one of the hardest genres to absolutely nail — all of your formal technique has to be spot on in order to sell it. A lot of the things in this movie that bother me aren’t necessarily creative, script-level things, but rather little bits of technical execution that we could have pulled off better. I don’t think the night stuff quite looks like true night. There are a lot of rickety camera moves that aren’t quite as good as they could be. The mask, which I love, is given a bit too much light in certain spots and looks very obviously like a mask. Silhouetting him during the big reveal didn’t work quite as well as I’d like. Hopefully these aren’t things your average audience member will notice, but man do I ever notice them.
I’m ultimately incredibly happy with and proud of this film, and really hope you enjoyed it.
JA: What’s next? What are your plans?
BC: Hard to say! I want to eventually position myself as a director of photography. I’ve got a really good creative relationship with a classmate of mine, and I kind of want to foster that and continue to work with him, but I also need to be able to pay rent. LA, New York, and Atlanta are all possibilities with strong FSU alumni networks and lots of production happening, so there’s a lot of work.
I’ve got five months left of film school, so I’m still not entirely sure what I’m doing. It scares me a bit, to be honest, but if it wasn’t scary it wouldn’t be worth doing. I’ll figure it out eventually!
JA: What else would you say to any prospective film students?
BC: Film school has been the best thing I’ve ever done, and easily the best time of my life. It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, for sure, but every minute of it has been fantastic and fully worth it. I would recommend film school to anyone serious about pursuing a career in this crazy industry.
But, as much as I would recommend it and as much as I think it is one of the best foundations you can get in filmmaking, I feel it necessary to mention that it is far from the end-all, be-all of getting into the industry. It’s a hard thing to do even with film school, but you absolutely do not need film school to be a filmmaker.
Film school is hard. It’s long. It’s expensive (despite giving us the equipment package I mentioned above, most of my class spent in excess of $500 out of pocket on each of their films, particularly the last two). It’s also very hard to get into. The reality is not everybody will have film school as an option. But if you are really dedicated to being a filmmaker, please do not let that deter you. Get out there anyway. Take film theory classes wherever you can find them at whatever college you end up at. Always watch movies, even movies you don’t want to watch or have never heard of (all those world cinema films Doc Adams shows you are a good place to start; add Tarkovsky, Kieslowski, Fellini and Kurosawa to that education pronto). Meet like-minded filmmakers. Network. Do everything you can, because you can do it.
I talk up film school because, from a position of privilege and great fortune that allowed me to have this experience, it was the best experience I could ever ask for and was definitely the right way to go for me. But I do not want to make it out to be the only solution. It’s a great one, and if you have the opportunity, go for it. But don’t be deterred if you don’t have the opportunity.
