: Kylee Peña's Blog
In light of the Mars Curiosity landing successfully on the planet after an incredibly ingenious deployment technique, I've been thinking about my dream job. When asked, I know a lot of us editors probably have similar answers to the dream job question: to edit a TV show, to edit features, edit documentaries, edit a meaningful piece about humanity, edit national advertisements. But what's my dream job?
If I were to create a job out of thin air (that may or may not exist, I'm not even sure), I think I'd have to go with Space Videographer/Editor. I would work for NASA or SpaceX or whatever other space exploration firm is out there, producing all their video for broadcast, the web, and whatever else.
My duties as a space video producer? Well, obviously I'd have to go to space every once in a while to do some shooting. That's a given. I don't care if robots and astronauts can do it, I need to go up there and get some shots of my own. The job would be maybe 10-20% "travel" (to space, duh) and the other percentage would be spent on Earth, either documenting the exploration process or in the edit, putting it all together. And these aren't cheesy or dry videos - they're fun, engaging, or inspiring. Did you watch the 7 Minutes of Terror video that was released? They'd be more like that than NASA TV's 4:3 feed of their control room. Powerful, inspiring, and relateable video about SPACE!
Another aspect of my dream job duties would be the ongoing curation of an educational video series for kids to inspire them to pursue learning about space exploration. I love the idea of designing videos that actually engage young minds and deliver the knowledge of the universe. It's also my contribution to erasing the effects of Jersey Shore and the like.
Basically, I would sit down and watch the greatest minds in the world explore space, and figure out how to take the information they give me and produce it in a way that's understandable for the masses, but not in a watered down way. Oh, and also go to space. How great would that be?
Alas, I don't think my dream job exists, so I might have to settle for editing a TV show about space someday. Some edit bays are as cold as the vacuum of space, so I could get pretty close to a simulation.
If you could make up a job out of thin air, even if it's not remotely feasible, what would it be?
This past weekend, I was in the wedding of one of my favorite couples. We met in college when we all worked at the Zoo together (they actually started dating there) and stayed friends beyond into the real world. During my bridesmaid stint, I was thinking a lot about wedding videography. As a video producer/editor, I'm always (painfully) aware of the video being produced during a wedding, especially if I'm attending a wedding for someone I really care about. I want their videos to look amazing, almost at times jumping up and grabbing a camera or source material to edit it myself.
I guess you can call it half caring and half control freak.
Wedding video is not as widespread as wedding photography. Even as a video person myself, I don't consider wedding videography to be a priority. If you're working with a budget, I would always suggest putting more into still photography than video. In my opinion, weddings are more effectively captured one frame at a time. There's a romanticism you can only get in a single still frame that you can finesse and process to bring out the good qualities and hide the bad, and then over time, that's what you remember that moment as - perfection. With video, you have to have some great talent behind the camera to achieve that same feeling.
There are some amazing wedding video producers out there today, you just have to be prepared to toss a bit of money their way. And for what you get, it's a fantastic purchase. Wedding cinematography is gorgeous when it's done right, and provides you a keepsake that you'll probably actually go back and watch a few times.
The thing is…if you hire a wedding video company and pay like $500 for your video, it's probably not going to be this fantastic, romantic and flawless product. Great wedding videography is hard, and it's expensive.
Which leads me to my next thought - a wedding video company called Wedit. My friends chose this company to document their wedding day. The basic concept is that you are given 5 Flip cameras to distribute throughout your wedding. Your bridal party, you, and your guests are charged with documenting the entire wedding day or weekend. The cameras have little tags on them to remind people what kinds of shots they need to get. Then after the wedding is over, you mail the 5 cameras back to the company, they edit a wedding video from your footage, and post it along with all the raw files for download.
Now, I'm not really sure what I think about this. On one hand, it's a cool concept because your guests may know you better than a videographer, so you'll get more natural reactions and everyone is more comfortable around the camera. It's also really interesting to potentially have 5 angles from different and unique POVs at any given moment. If a regular wedding videographer shot everything on Flip cameras, handheld, you would slap them in the face. But because you set the expectation that these are all shot by guests and bridal party members, there is a level of acceptance for flaws in the video. It's closer to a documentary than a cinematic experience, which works because you aren't expecting any more from it. It's also relatively cheap - probably about as cheap as hiring a bad videographer.
But again, the expectations make it work better.
One downside is having 5 cameras to track and distribute. But the biggest downside, in my opinion, is putting the burden of recording the major moments onto your guests and bridal party. For our group, it wasn't a big deal because I always have a camera anyway. But I noticed during some of the reception events, there were people up and standing around, recording things instead of enjoying them. When you have a wedding reception, you sort of want your guests and everyone to relax and have fun, and this adds a burden of responsibility on them.
Another downside is making sure the big moments get proper coverage. With 5 cameras floating around, one person might want to actually enjoy a moment instead of capture it, thinking "oh, one of those other people is recording." Then nobody records it and you have no video of your first dance.
The biggest thing to remember is: with a service like Wedit, the success of your video is determined by the enthusiasm of those involved in your wedding. The video can only be as good as the footage captured.
I kept a camera with me the whole weekend and documented everything the way I'd want it if I were editing the video. I got loads of coverage - transitionary shots, establishing shots, closeups, reactions, nat sound, everything. And shots that are held long enough to actually use! I also got a ton of great pre-ceremony footage - the little nervous sighs, the mascara being applied, the gentle light in the readying room, the sparkle of the dress. I tend to think a lot of people that shoot these wouldn't get this stuff because they aren't used to telling a story with visuals, and that makes me wonder how these videos usually turn out. The very best moments of a wedding video are the little things you capture, the environment the people are in, and the care you take to making people look good (or reasonably good, there's only so much to be done with a Flip!) I hope the editor of this Wedit video does it justice, because I'm pretty sure you could edit a decent video out of just the stuff on my camera. And I hope the editor appreciates having b-roll for once.
I am a little concerned about the quality of the edit though. The service is only about $400. If you have 5 Flip cameras with 2 hours of runtime, you could potentially have 10 hours of footage to sort through. I'm guessing most weddings don't fill all 5 cameras (ours didn't, not even my 150+ shots), and the company relies upon this to turn things around and remain profitable. But even for $400, how can your video be devoted the proper amount of time needed to review footage, find all those great little moments, figure out where camera overlap occurs to multi cam it, and pull out a cohesive story? Needless to say, I have massive doubts on this.
If you're reading this, trying to consider if you want to try a crowd-sourced wedding video service like Wedit, or wedding video at all, I would just consider 1) if your guests and bridal party are the kind of creative people who will pitch in to shoot some video without being prodded, 2) what kind of wedding video you want (Is a guest POV, probably shaky camera all you wanted? Or do you want a theatrical wedding video with crane shots and dolly moves?) and 3) what kind of budget you have. Always put more budget into still photography - I'm begging you. Believe me as a video producer telling you this - you'll cherish still photos more than video, 99% of the time. Overall, I think Wedit is an interesting concept for the right group of people.
It's been interesting to see the evolution of wedding video. Now there are apps where you can upload pictures and video during the wedding to a central location, which takes the Flip out of the equation entirely. But it still comes down to the willingness of your group of friends and family to contribute. If it's important, it's always better to defer to a professional than to get disappointed.
If you want to be in video production, chances are pretty good that you're going to need to complete at least one internship before you find a job. The best part is that almost all video production internships are unpaid. In return for your free labor, a company agrees to help you along, teaching you and giving you valuable work experience. It should be a pretty fair trade on both sides, but it can start to slip occasionally. As an intern, it's important that you stay on top of your work, while holding the company accountable for their end of the bargain.
In college, I completed three internships that ranged anywhere from 10 to 20 hours per week. This was a challenge to balance with school and a part-time job, so getting the most out of my internship time was a huge priority. I worked on museum exhibit videos, local events, conference slideshows, and television, digitized tapes, prepared graphics and laid a-roll. I also swept floors, answered phones, organized music libraries, and even cleaned out offices when half the staff were laid off (but that's a separate post for another day.) Interning isn't always fun or glamorous or even interesting, but it gives you essentially building blocks for your career. Here's my eleven most important facets of a video production intern.
Let's face the facts. First of all: no matter what kind of college program you might be working through, or how innocent and passionate you might be, or how dedicated to video production you say you are, you're probably going to be doing some pretty menial work as an intern.The sooner you realize that you are an INTERN, the sooner you can really start to make the best of the situation.
Alright. Now that I've said that, I want to stress that just because you are an intern, doesn't mean you're the company play-thing. You (probably) won't be working on high dollar edits, but you shouldn't sell yourself short and start scrubbing floors and vacuuming spiderwebs out of dark corners. At least not all the time. If your internship resembles more of a janitor or secretary position than a low level assistant, there might be something wrong. There also might be something wrong if you're working 50 hours a week on client work without pay, too.
If you're in an edit suite shadowing an edit, ask the editor questions (but be careful not to interrupt them). If you're sitting on a couch with an in-house producer, ask them questions. If you're going to lunch with some associates, ask them questions. What kind of questions? Ask how they got to where they are, what school they attended, what their major was, what internships they did, what other jobs they've had, what the turning point in their career so far has been, what they like, what they don't like, the work they'd like to do, how they deal with clients, how they determine their freelance rates, what that little button on the Avid does, why they made a creative choice. In other words, ask anything and everything you can think of asking. And take notes.
Speaking from a technical perspective. If you're shown something, you should take notes. If someone demonstrates how to set up a capture in Avid, write it down. Don't ask for someone to show you every time. If you don't understand, it's fine to keep asking questions about the same thing. But there's a difference between "Can you show me how to set up a tape capture?" and "I'm working on setting up this tape capture and I think I've missed something, can you check it out?" One shows that you're on the road to learning it, and the other shows you probably don't care.
You might be taking on some tasks as an intern that aren't so great or enriching - organizing tape libraries, for example. But in almost any task, there is something you can take away from it. Instead of grumbling your way through something, ask yourself what you're learning. If you're doing too many menial tasks and not getting anything out of it, and you're unpaid? Go to the person coordinating your internship, and let them know. Which leads me to--
In your (probably) unpaid internship, you should be taking something away every day you're working. If you aren't getting what you want, talk it out. Be polite, explain your goals, and ask if some changes can be made within reason. Any company you intern for that's worth ever working for full-time will understand and help push you back into the right direction. Open the lines of communication right away. Meet up with whoever you report to as a supervisor at the beginning of your internship, and establish your goals. That way, they know what you want and can try to shape your experience.
Ask to get hands on with equipment as much as possible. In my past internships, I would take tutorials and manuals into empty suites and work away. Never waste any downtime. You're in a prime situation to better your skills in a way you might not be able to otherwise. Plus, if you get stuck, you have a staff of well-trained individuals to help you.
Don't skate by at your internship. Come in early, stay a little late. Don't simply exist. Why the hell are you there if you aren't doing anything? Certainly not for the pay. Do your very best work and be enthusiastic. People take notice of happy people who want to do good work, and you have a much better chance of being hired full-time if people genuinely like you.You could prove yourself to be a really valuable member of the team and a perfect choice for an editor role but if you're a jerk face, you're going to get passed over. If you're a little black rain cloud that just complains about everything, you definitely will be shown the door.
You're inexperienced, you're going to make errors. It's part of the company's hazard. If you make an error, apologize and fix it right away. No need to dwell on it or get emotional. Just fix it (or ask for help) and move on. Don't try to cover your mistake. And if you accidentally deleted the company's Unity? Welp, you're on your own with that one.
Get a status report. Are you meeting the company's expectations? Are they meeting yours? What improvements can be made on both sides, if any? By setting a date to speak, you'll guarantee you get some quality discussion that can really help you out. And you'll definitely be on the calendar for a meeting with a potentially very busy producer or manager.
Don't get into personal relationships with anyone, or do anything that could damage your reputation. Be respectful and positive, and stay out of trouble. And be careful on social media.
What's missing from my list? Skillfulness or intelligence or technical aptitude? Nope, not necessary for an intern, at least not specific to video production. Companies want bright, curious, and enthusiastic people who are eager to move up and learn new things. They don't want someone with a cocky attitude who thinks they already know everything. Sure, some facilities may ask for applicants that have a basic understanding, but they aren't looking for an expert. When you approach a facility to inquire about internships, keep these facets in mind, and maybe you'll find yourself behind the camera or in the edit bay.
The greatest thing I've ever stumbled across: job-chaining in Compressor. It's perhaps the least known about yet useful thing in any Pro App. I've posted twice about job-chaining on my blog
, but after some confirmations at NAB, I wanted to make one last revision on my thoughts.So if you're one of the dozen people who might have stumbled across those posts, I apologize for the re-hashing. If you just want the steps without my backstory, skip to the bold text.
I first found job-chaining about a year ago when I was trying to figure out a way to make my encoding time shorter. In my day job, we have a media player with dynamic bandwidth switching playback. That is, it sees what's up with your viewer's connection, and picks a version of the video based on what they their connection can handle. This works really well for our demographic especially, where we have a lot of people out in the middle of nowhere on dial-up, a ton of people on phones, and then people who pay for a broadband connection. I usually have to encode three different videos of varying sizes and bitrates (and originally we even reduced the frame rate.)
I have a ProRes master that I keep as my archival file, and I use it to encode every asset I ever need. And I found that the conversion from ProRes to H.264 took an unbearably long time. Between the Frame Controls AND the bitrate crunching, Compressor was getting tripped up. It's too much to effectively process at once, so it just slows way down.
Enter job-chaining! What does it do? Basically, you can set the output of a Compressor job as the source of a new job, all within one batch. So for example, in my situation, I did all the resizing in one job, and all the actual compressing in another job. The two tasks are split up so Compressor can handle them better.
Let me explain with pictures how to set this up.
How to Job Chain in Compressor:
First, have a new batch open. Drop in your master file that you're making all your great outputs from. In my case, I dropped in my master ProRes.
Now, stick all the settings you want on that file. For me, I dropped another ProRes 422 preset on it, and changed the frame size and frame rate to what I need my outputs to be. This way, the codec stays the same, so there should be no complexities in switching things around - it should (mostly) just change the size.
Ok, now click on this job, and go up to Job, and choose New Job with Target Output.
You'll see another job pop up in your batch with a little chain icon.
Compressor is going to do what you asked of it in your first job - for me, resizing a ProRes file. Then it'll take that output, stick it into that second job, and do whatever you ask of it on there.
So now you can drop on whatever settings you need on job #2. In my case, I need three different outputs for my dynamic switching, and I have presets ready for that. No resizing, no frame rate adjustments - simply changing to H.264 and crunching the bitrate.
When you click submit, you'll see Compressor run through the whole batch as expected. For me, the time it took to complete an encode dropped from close to an hour to maybe 10 minutes.
It's worth noting that the intermediate file created by job #1 isn't a temp file - it's actually created, so you'll have that file whether you need it or not.
So there ya go, job-chaining. It'll change your life, one way or another.
It's a great tool to have at your disposal. It's also not an instant band-aid to your compression woes - it's a potentially valuable step in a compression strategy. And yes, it's possible to do the steps separately, but you risk messing things up if you do it yourself, and it's not completely autonomous. And we love autonomy in post, right? Well, at least for the boring stuff.
When I originally posted on this subject, I wasn't quite sure what I had stumbled upon, or if I was doing things right. And then last time I updated this post, I still wasn't sure if it was acceptable. Everything looked fine and worked great for me, but I was almost waiting for someone to reply and call me a moron for losing valuable bits somewhere along the way. But then this was brought up at NAB during Post Production World, and my entire thought process was validated for once. Is there quality loss? Well, I'm sure there is somehow, you always lose something with every transcode. But it's not big loss by any means. Well worth it for the time saved in many instances.
If you have another use case for job-chaining, please share. I'm curious about how others utilize this lesser known feature.
When a dire situation is at hand, an cuddly little animal called the hairy frog (or even more affectionately, the horror frog) intentionally breaks its bones to form claws. Another creature called a horned lizard creates pressure in its nasal cavity so great, the blood vessels in its eyes burst, spraying attackers with blood. A possum will, uh, play possum, which includes foaming at the mouth and emitting a green anal fluid. Potato beetle larvae cover themselves in their own poop. And the poop is poisonous. An malaysian ants? They just self-destruct.
As editors, we become very intimate with footage and invested in a story from the very beginning. It's as if you build a personal relationship with the subject-matter, or even the subjects on the screen. There's a fine level of attachment and privacy to a film or video that's built up as you've worked on it. You've carefully crafted it. You've raised it from birth. You've slowly carved it out of stone. It's been molded in your very hands for the last week, month, or year. It's your little duckling that you've sheltered from the harsh reality of the world.
And now you're screening the final product for the first time, and people are going to look at it and tell you what they think about it and everything
You know that feeling where you want to melt into the floor to escape a situation? You should have been born a sea cucumber. They can turn from solid to liquid, and back again. Handy.
For me, the first screening of a finished (or semi-finished) product is fairly traumatic. And I think this is true for a lot of editors. But why? Shouldn't we be excited to show the world what we've done? Shouldn't we be eager to get it up on the big screen so we can start hearing feedback? Isn't the point of all this to tell a story that makes someone feel something? How they gonna feel anything if you hoard your work in your edit room on your little screen?
I am excited, and I want the feedback. I want people to experience what I've experienced. But the idea of blowing up the blood vessels in my eyes also becomes inexplicably appealing.
I have been wondering why this natural aversion to my work being shown happens. I've heard that some actors can't watch themselves on TV shows or in movies. Or artists can't view their own public exhibitions. Why is the transition from the creative environment into the cold, mean world so harsh? I mean, most of us as editors have developed a thick skin. We can defend our cuts. We're comfortable with our skills. It has nothing to do with confidence.
What makes watching your work on the screen without the ability to hit the spacebar and flee the area feel so different, psychologically?
I don't think I have to argue that a majority of editors are introverts. Sure, it's not always true, but generally if you enjoy the quiet solitude and reflection of 18 hours in a dark room on a sunny Spring day, you're probably seeing those same patterns throughout your lifestyle. Obviously being an introvert doesn't mean you're socially crippled or unable to be in public. In fact, most people aren't even entirely in one camp or another. Introverts aren't just shy. Shy people are freaked out in social settings, and introverts are not always as such. But what is true is that "introverts are people who find other people tiring." Could this be an explanation for my natural aversion to public screenings? A defense mechanism resulting in an involuntary reaction leaning toward solitude?
I find that public screenings are a lot like public speaking classes in high school. In these courses, you're often speaking about something that's supposed to be important to you (no doubt a strategy from teachers to make you care about the project.) You have a certain level of attachment to your subject, you've got a carefully crafted argument, and now you're facing 30 or 300 bored faces that are mostly just waiting for you to finish or fail, whichever comes first. Your palms get sweaty. Your blood pressure goes up. You're painfully aware of every tiny error you make in your speech. Minutes seem to turn into hours. But the truth is that hardly anyone ever notices this anxiety or stumbling. The audience doesn't know the intentions you held internally for the speech. Huge mistakes to you are tiny blips to them.
Back to the theater, and you're feeling the same way. You've got a carefully crafted argument in the form of a film, and you desire to change or affect a person with your argument. But just like in high school, the audience doesn't know your original intentions. They don't pick up on the things you wish you could fix.
But somehow, it doesn't make it any easier to realize that. So the big screen is somehow a threat to everything you hold dear in your edit, and you're trying to decide if you should hide in a closet or storm the stage "come at me bro" style. Maybe this feeling comes from a fight-or-flight response? Fight or flight, of course, is the surge of an animal's sympathetic nervous system that primes the animal for fighting or running. Basically, it's a response to stress that puts you on the offensive (running the hell away) or defensive (come at me!) In a very first world fashion, I seem to experience this feeling most when I go to see my work screened before an audience.
So, my frontal lobe knows what I'm going to put it through. Then my body reacts to these thoughts by turning all my systems up to 11. And the primal systems left over from millions of years of evolution release the same response as if I were being chased by a brontosaurus. (Yes, I know homo sapiens didn't exist when brontosauruses did, just let me have that fantasy, ok?)
It seems silly to be so bothered by 24 frames per second flashing by on a screen, but maybe I shouldn't feel that way. In a recent study about how films effect the human mind, researchers discovered that "movies activate every one of the seven intelligences: the logical (plot), the linguistic (dialogue), the visual-spatial (images), the musical (soundtrack), the interpersonal (storytelling), the intra-psychic (inner guidance), and even sometimes the kinesthetic (moving) as we tense up or move to the music." So the films themselves are turning all of my sectors up to max power as a
regular viewer. As someone deeply involved in all of these areas? Well, it's more like critical mass. I'm experiencing all of these, plus the additional things beyond the frame that the audience can never know.
Speaking of experiences beyond the frame, in the book "In the Blink of an Eye", editor Walter Murch says "Emotionally, it seems like some big hand has come and grabbed you up by the hair, picked you up, and put you down ninety degrees to one side. And you think, 'Oh god, look at that.' It's as if up to this moment you have been constructing a building but always standing in front of it to evaluate it. Now all of a sudden you are looking at the side of the building and seeing things you seem to have never seen before."
"Oh god, look at that." Sums up a public screening pretty well, I'd say.
Murch goes on to give some advice for dealing with screenings, stating that "Even with technically finished films, public previews are tricky things. You can learn a tremendous amount from them, but you have to be cautious about direction interpretations of what people have to say to you, particularly on those cards they fill out after the screening."
Of course, we all know that the interpretation of a film will vary wildly from one person to another. But it's hard not to get caught up in why one person may have a strongly negative reaction, while another will sing praises to you all night. As it turns out, it's all in their head.
In a research project a few years ago, some researchers tracked the brain activity of subjects while they watched several segments of films. As you'd expect, there was a certain level of similar behaviors. In fact, all the activity in the logical, sensory, or basic comprehension processing was pretty much the same. The really interesting part is that the interpretive parts of the brain always showed different patterns. There was never a match between subjects when it came to the emotional, intellectual, or perceiving parts. Logically, each person saw the film the same. Emotionally, entirely different.
This goes to show us that the basic form of a film may exist in the same way for each person, but the experience of it? Wildly unpredictable. I guess that's not really that surprising, but to see it exist as tangible data is pretty impressive.
So we're back around to our original premise: why do things change for us as editors when we have to show our work on a big screen to a bunch of people? An evolutionary defense mechanism? A psychological reaction? A biological response?
Like anything else in life, it's a big, complicated pot of a little of everything, I think. Natural caveman instincts. Emotional investment. Past experiences. As the great Ron Burgundy once said, we're in "a glass case of emotion." Everybody wants to be validated. Am I right? Am I?
But next time you're in the screening room, wishing you could burst forth some claws from your own hands or cover yourself in poisonous poop, remember: there are some people out there that are biologically programmed to hate your work! Great! May as well relax, grab a drink, sit down, and enjoy the fruits of your labor. The screening room, while traumatic, is also an educational experience. Nobody can put it better than Murch: "The most helpful thing of all is simply learning how you feel when the film is being shown to 600 people who have never seen it before.
And be really glad that your human brain can understand and prevent these natural reactions from taking over, because nobody wants green anal ooze in a crowded theater.
I'm interested to hear what others have to say on this topic. How does the first public screening (or in progress screening) feel for you?
Half-assed bibliography (psh, I'm done with school, man):
"In the Blink of an Eye" - Walter Murch
Industrial video is a majority of my day job right now, and has been for the better part of three years. I've edited training videos, advertisements, and video blogs, and I occasionally have to go into the field and shoot. I find myself in hot, loud places sometimes, and I often have no idea what anything is at first. I do know two things: don't get run over, and don't stick your hand in anything. Those are a couple of freebies you can take with you into any walk of life, really.
While this industrial video stuff isn't exactly the Hollywood cinema experience I longed for as a child (hey, we all gotta start somewhere right?), I've picked up on some patterns that consistently give me some good results to help my videos stand apart from what else is out there. A lot of these tips are standard for any video production, but I've added a perspective of industrial/corporate video production to help you focus on this particular task.
1. Don't forget to get or use contextual/establishing shots.
If you're editing a movie and don't have an establishing shot, you curse the DP or director or everyone. In industrial videos, one has a tendency to get wrapped up in whatever process is being demonstrated. We often have little familiarity with whatever we're covering, so it can be difficult to not just skip ahead to each little piece of a process. Try not to get distracted and forget to use establishing shots in your videos to give your viewer context. For example, let's say you're showing the various steps of an assembly line. Assembly lines usually have a big piece of a machinery making it all happen, but the magic really occurs in one tiny little space. You might want to jump right to that space to show the thingy being attached to the other thingy - because that's the cool or interesting part. However, you need to show the context of where that thingy is being assembled - the whole piece of machinery. That's your establishing shot. For another example, if you're showing an engine - you need a shot of the whole engine before you delve into the little parts. And take an occasional step back to remind your viewers where they are.
2. Light equipment from behind.
Industrial places are often dark, hot, and filled with a lot of wires and pipes and whatevers. If you're shooting in one of these areas, you need to light it well. Don't forget to add some backlighting too. Let's say you're shooting a brake system on a vehicle, and you need to show the tie rod. Toss some light from behind to make it pop out from the mess of wires and tubes and stuff. Backlighting creates separation, so it's easier for a viewer to see what you're talking about. When it's all flat, everything blends together, and it's hard to tell where one thing ends and another thing begins.
3. Shoot big equipment from the ground.
This is particularly helpful if you're trying to market either the equipment itself or the operation of the equipment. Big equipment, when shot straight on, looks ok but rather ordinary. If you can get lower to the ground and shoot upward, it starts to look imposing and majestic. Making something like a large vehicle look extra big really speaks to the demographic of people who enjoy the operation of such equipment - raw, towering, and loud as hell. This is pretty much the same strategy that Cosmopolitan magazine uses for their cover models - women, shot (in a flattering way) from a lower angle, look tall, strong, and confident.
4. Bring cleaner and wipes.
If you're out shooting industrial stuff in its native environment, there's probably a good chance that it's dirty, if not completely covered in crud. You don't want your gorgeous cinematography marred by ickiness. Sometimes if you ask ahead of time before a shoot, equipment can be cleaned specifically for your shooting. This is ideal because there's probably a good, efficient way of getting the thing clean if experts are involved. But bring some cleaner and wipes anyway, in case there's spots to fix. And make sure it's OK if you use the cleaner on the surface. You never know.
5. Prepare for poor audio situations.
Have I mentioned that industrial video is usually in loud places? Try to prepare for the worst audio situation. This might include getting more directional mics, planning for ADR or VO, or scouting for a quiet room for necessary on-location interviews. Sometimes I find myself in situations where none of these things are possible, so I try my best in our run-and-gun situations to position the subject in a way where the mics will be least likely to pick up the noise. If you're at least prepared to deal with rough audio in post, it should ease the pain a little. One good thing is that this kind of background noise is not always a terrible thing in industrial video - the people watching it seem not to mind, and it helps to create an atmosphere. That is, if you can make out what the person on screen is saying.
6. Get a lot of angles.
When you shoot equipment, you'll find that when you get to the edit, one angle will tell the story of the equipment way better than another. Sometimes, it's hard to tell on-site what angles are clearest or most effective. Getting a lot of angles also gives you more options in post, obviously. This tip is basically the same as "get a lot of b-roll" which as an editor, I believe all shooters should have tattooed backwards on their chest, Memento-style. It's just a different way of thinking specifically about b-roll for equipment.
7. When you set up a shoot, explain what you need to your subject in simple terms.
Just like you're probably not familiar with the process you're shooting, the people on site are not familiar with the process of shooting. Make contact with your on-site coordinator and briefly explain what you'll need, avoiding jargon. The people you're shooting don't need a film school education. Just let them know your basic schedule, anything specific you might need from them, and how their assistance with your requests will help make their video look great. They'll feel involved without being confused.
8. Understand the process you're shooting or editing.
If you're working on a training video, read the manual and research the subject you're training. If you're putting together a how to, learn how to do it. Educate yourself on the basics. For example, if you're putting together a video that demonstrates a brake checking procedure, look up how to do it, and try to understand it. This will help you assemble the video as accurately as possible, with less time spent revising simple errors.
9. If you want lower thirds, shoot with them in mind.
In a past training video where I was shooting an engine, The DP didn't think far enough ahead of time to the edit to consider that I needed lower thirds to convey some points of the training. This made for some unnecessary fiddling in post. If you're shooting an intricate piece of equipment up close, leave some room for whatever sort of labeling you might need. And if it's for DVD, remember to consider title safe.
10. Add some movement.
Often in industrial video, we're shooting things that don't really move much - a vehicle sitting still, a piece of machinery that has moving parts but overall just kind of sits there. Adding a little bit of subtle movement can add a lot to the production value. A pan, zoom, slide, or if you have it, jib, can help bring a viewer into the environment.
11. Condense time, but not too much.
In the edit, you'll probably need to condense time in industrial video so you don't lose your viewers to boredom. You need to make sure you don't condense time too much. For example, there are vehicle inspections that require steps that take 2-3 minutes to accomplish, like pumping up air brakes. If you show 2 minutes of someone just sitting there, pumping up brakes (literally just hitting the brake over and over, watching a gauge), your audience just bailed. But if you cut away as soon as they start, it doesn't give the viewer an accurate big picture of the process. Find a middle ground where you can really imply that a task takes longer than a moment to complete. A dissolve will also help show the passage of time.
12. Tell a story.
It may be the production of a sheet of metal, or the process of cleaning out a tank of garbage, but it's still got a story. Give it a beginning, middle, and end. For example, at the beginning you might introduce the production facility. Or you might show the finished product, and jump back to how it all gets started. Then the middle - the process. The end should be easy - the finished product in it's newly manufactured state, and then in use out in the wild. Simple and effective - and easy to forget if you're new to industrial videos. It's storytelling, like anything else you cut.
13. Be careful.
Shooting industrial videos can often have an aspect of danger to them, at least more than usual. Take great care to pay attention to special instructions, watch your step, and avoiding touching things. If you have questions, ask.
Photo credits: morguefile.com
A topic that always seems to create a big debate: the demo reel. Specifically, an editor demo reel. On one hand, it needs to be short right? So people will watch it? So string together some cool sequences and set it to a wicked techno track. But wait, no. You need to showcase your editing skills. Ok, so it'll be long. Grab some 2 minute sequences and slap them together. But wait, it's like 8 minutes long. Who will watch any of that? I'm doomed, DOOMED
The funny thing about this topic is that there doesn't really seem to be a 100% right or 100% wrong answer, though everyone feels their answer is the definitive one. When I was in college, I was given some advice about building a demo reel that I would consider to be a lot closer to the 100% wrong than anything else: pull together a bunch of cool looking shots, and edit them creatively together to a beat. "Your reel itself is your showpiece, it shows that you can edit." Meaning, the reel itself is demonstrating your editing ability, not what's within it. I completely disagree. It shows that I can edit a sizzle reel for a great DP and nothing else. What's the point of that?
And of course there's another whole subsection of editors that don't even have a demo reel. "I haven't needed one in years. People ask for me by name, or know me by reputation!"
That's super, but realistically there's a whole lot more of us still clamoring for gigs that need a solid reel.
So where do we meet on this? I'm going to tell you the strategy I've adopted for the time being. I don't know if it'll work for you, or if it even works for me, but I think it's an interesting approach to marketing yourself, because it applies some basic web video marketing techniques. Instead of marketing a product, you're marketing YOU
. If nothing else, hopefully it'll make you think about how you brand yourself online.
I don't actually have what I would consider to be a reel. Ok, well I do, but it's like the long one I mentioned, and I save it for special occasions and Bar Mitzvahs. The "reel" I have on the front page of my website is not a reel. It's basically a one minute video that introduces who I am, creates a personal connection (whether the viewer wants it to or not), and quickly showcases in quick succession the types of videos I've worked on by showing very quick samples. The point is not to show "hey this is how I edit" but to say "hey I have experience in these things, look at these shiny objects, also I'm a good person, I have these great skills, and you love me already now go watch the other stuff!"
At the end of my non-reel, I have a call to action that points the viewer to a sidebar next to the video. Here, I have links to 4 of my better or more interesting projects. This leads into a rabbit hole of portfolio work, where viewers can watch longer samples of my work. If they saw something they liked in my non-reel, they can find it in my portfolio.
So my reel blends both of the two big sides of the debate: it provides a super quick introduction into my work, showing some flashy images and motion graphics. Then it provides a way to watch the long forms. It's quick and compelling (I think or hope) and draws the viewer in, and they make their own decisions on where they go next with a little shove from me. It's a reel in some sense, and it's not in another. It just serves as a point of intrigue, to hopefully make the viewer leap from mildly interested to full-on looking within your website. In web marketing terms, making a conversion.
If you take away the call to action and make it a stand-alone piece, it's the kind of reel I mentioned above that I feel is pointless. The engagement and utilization within a site is what makes it different.
I'm not saying my "reel" is perfect, or my website couldn't use some updating. I'm saying this has worked as a great solution to the debate for me. It lets me tell a story and provide an experience to the viewer. And isn't that what we're usually hired to do?
Of course, it makes me really nervous to draw attention to my reel, as I know there are a lot of improvements I could make. Some suggestions I've had are things like replacing the software text with graphics, adding graphics for clients I've done work for, making the text more kinetic, adding lower thirds to describe videos as they pop up, showing some before/after comparisons for comps...and of course, getting better video to feature. That last suggestion was mine, though. Ugh. My own worst critic. (Look at the front page of my website, www.kyleewall.com
, if you want to see this in practice.)
In the age of web marketing, it seems to me a proper step forward to stop thinking in terms of "reels" and start thinking in terms of web video marketing for one's own self - using all the tools at your disposal together to create a full package.
I'm always curious to hear what everyone else is doing. How are you using the internet to your advantage? Do reels truly even matter at all anymore when people can just go on your website and watch the whole thing? Or are they vital to your hiring? Do you get asked for one?
I know there’s a lot of us out there. We prefer the dark, climate controlled edit cave and the soft, warm glow of a monitor. But then our world crashes down and we’re forced to actually go out into the world and shoot things with a camera and everything.
I don’t know about you, but this is my weak point. I’m better at crafting things in the edit (and complaining about the ineptitude of a shooter) than actually shooting it myself (and mourning my lack of skills in the field).
The positive side about shooting your own material is that you know your own weaknesses, and you can plan around them to try to help yourself inevitably “fix it in post.” There are some simple things you can do during a shoot to set yourself up for success on the timeline: taking notes, great pre-production, getting a metric ton of b-roll, establishing shots…thinking like an editor while you’re shooting will really help you out.
And yea, you can work hard to try to get it right, but sometimes you just know things are going south rapidly. Recently, I was in Texas shooting at a trucking company. A majority of my day was spent chasing a couple of semis around the extremely busy Dallas interstates, jumping out of a vehicle, and setting up different shots before they drove by. As you can imagine, I didn’t always have enough time to think about my shots. During one such moment, I jumped right out of the car and into a bed of weeds along the road as I could see the trucks approaching in the distance. I didn’t have time to set my tripod because the ground wasn’t even close to level anyway, so I decided to try it handheld, zoomed in. Ugh. Did I mention it was like 95 degrees? So much sweat.
Here’s the result.
Comparison - Before - Stabilization with a Reference Point
Could be worse, but yea, it sucks.
However, as I was framing, I decided to try to leave in that little antennae tower thingy. Why? I know that camera tracks and stabilizers work best with a really solid reference point that doesn’t leave the frame. There’s a lot going on in this shot between the foreground being blurred and the trees blowing and everything, but that spot is pretty much untouched and available for the software to reference. I opened up Premiere Pro CS6 and used Warp Stabilizer – no motion, position/scale/rotation, auto-scale/crop/stabilize.
Here’s the shot afterward.
Comparison - After - Stabilization with a Reference Point
Then just now, I was wondering if CS6′s stabilizer didn’t even care about reference points, if maybe it was so crazy anymore it could figure it out. So I grabbed another shot of a truck that came up a few miles behind where I moved the framing to just include the trees, since I had grabbed the shot that would possibly be tracked already. (That’s another good planning thing: only do dumb things after you’re sure you have something viable.)
Here’s that shot.
Comparison - Before - Stabilization with No Reference Point
And here it is stabilized with the same settings.
Comparison - After - Stabilization with a Reference Point
It did pretty well, but you can see that there’s a funky zoom in it.
Knowing what your tools need from your footage in order to help you fix it in post is a valuable skill if you have to go out and shoot. Obviously the best way is to simply get it right. But I’m honest with myself – I kinda suck at that sometimes, as do most of us – so I plan ahead and try to think about what I’ll need to help myself recover later.
And if anyone has any comments on Premiere Pro CS6′s Warp Stabilizer, I’d be glad to hear them. This is my first time using it, and I don’t think I need to say that it’s about a billion times more usable than the stabilizer in FCP7. But it is. And you can still work while it analyzes, if you didn’t know. SO GREAT!
Since the 48 Hour Film Project is kicking off this month, I figured I'd update my tips and repost. So, you're crazy enough to have signed up for the 48 Hour Film Project and now you're Googling away, trying to make that awful feeling in the pit of your stomach go away by researching and preparing yourself? Spoiler alert: unless you really get an endorphin trip from pure craziness and frenzy, that feeling isn't going away. There's not a whole lot you can do to really prepare yourself for the crushing realization you have to make a film in two frickin' days, but these tips will certainly help you set yourself up as best you possibly can to avoid some of the pitfalls before you even get started.
If you've read this on my blog before, it's because I posted an older version before. This is an updated post.
<!--more-->Oh, and some background on me: I've done the 48 Hour Film Project twice
(2010 and 2011). Our film won best music in 2010. Didn't win squat in 2011. Our 2010 film really got some mega-mileage out of this two day insane-a-thon though. It's won some awards at other festivals (including Best Film, at a contest where it competed against films that had UNLIMITED time to finish!) and it's been screened at something like 10 theaters across the midwest, even so recently as last month. So clearly we did something right. However, remember that like any other awards ceremonies and contests, there are politics and opinions involved and often the deserving films are beaten by the flashy or heavy concept ones. Just a warning - the judges make a huge difference, so do this contest for the fun of it, not the glory of awards. But that should be true in any case!
1. Assemble your crew ahead of time and come up with a plan.
This is the best thing we did. We had a couple of meetings beforehand where we solidified our roles, equipment, where we'd find props, actors, etc. We had a production schedule on paper to help keep us on track even though we had absolutely no idea what we'd be shooting. Everyone knew the basic outline for the weekend and what kind of expectations to set.
2. Pick locations beforehand - and make sure you have full access.
This is another great thing we did. We decided to stick to one single very diverse location to limit our ideas and transportation time. We set up a little headquarters, had parking taken care of, and spent the entire day in this location. We let it help guide our shot selections. Plus, we got shooting permissions signed off on well ahead of time. However, we were on one location late at night doing some editing as well, and we happened to get tossed out by the local security/police. The person who had signed our location release had put the address of his building only, not the entire location (it was a college campus). Although it was totally clear we were allowed to be there, the officer took the opportunity to take advantage of this technicality. If you're in a place that can have gray areas, get an itemized list of the locations you're allowed in, and the times you're allowed there.
3. Make sure your auxiliary crew knows the plan.
Our core crew was pretty well on top of things, but we had some extended crew like hair, makeup, etc, who likely never saw the production schedule. Obviously it's helpful to them if they know how long they have to do a hairstyle or create a makeup change. And make sure extras know the plan and are treated well too.
4. Have a backup plan, even if it sucks.
On the day of our shoot in 2010, our main talent didn't show up and was unreachable. Turns out he stayed up all night for no reason and fell asleep with his phone off. Great, never working with you again! But miraculously, we ended up finding a quick replacement with his entire day free that was 10 times better and brought so much more to the role than our original person ever could have. We could have easily have been screwed though. Although you have no time to figure things out, always try to keep some sort of Plan B in your back pocket - whether it's a talent replacement or a weather challenge, or a location change. We had a backup in mind that would have worked and we were about 4 minutes away from putting him in front of the camera, so we didn't end up losing that much time to this fiasco. We also had a backup location for rain and a backup schedule to work around rain. We didn't end up needing either (barely, it rained right after we finished the outside shots).
5. Don't get distracted by the assigned aspects (character, dialogue, etc.)
The problem with 48HFPs in general is that people get distracted by everything going on and their story gets lost. Make sure when you are writing your script or outline, everyone agrees on the basic plot, story, and theme of your film. No matter what, this core concept will not change on the fly. That's when things turn to crap. Also, avoid cliches because most films will be FILLED with them - both plot and visual cliches. Don't get hooked by one aspect of your film - for example, if you have a good idea for the use of your prop, don't let it dictate the entire production. While there are awards for such things like best use of prop, it probably doesn't make for a great story.
6. Be willing to compromise - changes WILL happen.
As the production moves forward, you'll hit challenges. Everyone needs to be willing to evolve with the production. These changes happen on movies of any scale. It's just with the 48HFP, the evolution of the film happens in lightspeed. Everyone needs to be flexible. If you had hard-headed people on your team, ditch them. Everyone needs to work together.
7. Dedicate liberal time to production.
We decided to dedicate our entire Saturday to production, no matter how long it would take. That was the right call. Our call time was 8a and we shot from about 10am til 8pm.
8. Start editing while you're still shooting.
Our editing area was near our shooting area. We shot tapes to about half and ran them to the editor to begin logging. I would have preferred a tapeless workflow obviously but it wasn't something we'd done before as a team. At this point, if you shoot tapeless and edit in Premiere CS6, you should have almost no downtime. That is a huge plus.
9. And if at all possible, keep production and post production separate.
Your production crew can rest while the edit happens, and the editors can rest while the production happens. No one will be married to any shots because the editor will be impartial. Then on Sunday morning, the edit can be locked with everyone fairly well rested. That's really how this should work. Ideally, if there can be someone on set as a liaison between the editor and the production crew to relay the idea of the film and what the director wants, that would be best. If it can be the director, super. Better yet might be a second assistant director who is there half a day and hasn't been going strong for hours, but understands the film from the other assistant director and reading over script notes.
10. Pay a lot of attention to sound.
This is one of the top 3 things that derail a production - no matter how great your visuals, if your audio track is awful, you will never be successful. Have a dedicated sound person recording or monitoring. If you can't, strip away your location sound and add in stock audio. Or do a silent film. Don't forget to grab room tone. These things are usually shown in nice theaters, bad audio sounds even worse. For our first production we didn't want to get screwed with audio, so when we wrote our script, we intentionally made it very silent, relying on foley and ADR over location sound.
11. The other 2 things that derail a production: lack of communication, and getting hung up on things that don't matter.
Keep communication open and honest. And if something is holding you back, make a decision and move forward. If nothing else, just defer to the director. Make a decision collectively ahead of time that someone will just be the final decision maker. It's better to just understand that not everyone will get what they want than to fight about dumb things.
12. Test your workflow ahead of time!
This is huge. Have everyone on the same page as far as how the workflow will go from ingest to delivery. Test out bringing in footage, getting the right aspect ratio, how long the color grade will take the render, and how long the export will take. Have a Compressor setting set up with the delivery requirements. However long the export will be planned to take - double that time. Make sure you have at least that amount of time on Sunday. Seriously, do this. You don't want to be watching a render bar 15 minutes before the deadline.
13. Now is not the time to try something new.
If you have a new plugin, or you want to build something new in After Effects, great. Just don't do it when you only have 48 hours to finish. Stick to tried and true methods, things you can pull together in your sleep. Or else you might be stuck trying to figure out something trivial that has no bearing to your story. Keep it SIMPLE.
14. Dedicate one person to paperwork.
There is a crapload of paperwork you need to turn in with your project. Have one person responsible for gathering and organizing all of it. There is too much to have it flopping around everywhere. You don't want to get disqualified for something stupid like a missing release.
15. Have someone completely separate from your production cater for you.
Parents, friends, whatever. Have someone bring food at a designated time during production and have everyone take a break. They will be happier for it. And your cast will be impressed you actually thought to feed them real food (and not just cold pizza) and will want to work with you again.
16. Have a production assistant you can depend on for menial tasks.
Coffee grabber, equipment finder, or just someone to watch your editing room while you go to the bathroom. It's very handy to have someone willing to stick around and do whatever you might need whenever you might need it. A friend is ideal, a student or someone interested in filmmaking is even better. Our PA was Lauren, and she was able to sit and watch equipment, direct extra crew and cast to the right areas, clean up, and run to get us things so we didn't have to leave the edit. It was lovely.
17. Just because you have 7 minutes doesn't mean it needs to be 7 minutes.
Honestly, most films I saw could have been cut in half. Increase the pacing, cut the nonsense, and make it shorter. It's almost always better.
18. Story is the key. Keep it simple!
Like I said, you don't have anything if you don't have a great story. A lot of 48 hour films I've seen look good and have some great aspects to them but they don't tell a good or complete story. So what's the point of them? The films that win (usually..hopefully) have a great story. If you can, get some people involved on your team that have a background in writing or storytelling. Keep it SIMPLE.
19. Have someone take production stills for you.
You'll be busy, so recruit a budding photographer or bribe a professional to document your day. You'll love seeing all the photos later, especially because you won't remember a lot of it.
20. Have fun.
You aren't making an Oscar winning film in 48 hours, it just doesn't happen. This is a great opportunity for you to bond with your friendly filmmakers, meet some new people, and see what's possible.
Constraint is your friend. Having the genre, character, and item thrown at you on Friday night is enough variable. Establish the pool of actors you'll draw from, the location you'll be at, and maybe some possible costuming or props. Don't change this stuff. Use it to guide your story. This allows you to develop a story easier - you're writing a story around a certain person or place instead of writing a story and trying to figure out who could play the lead, where you'll shoot it, and if it's even possible to do so. What's easier: "We need to write a comedy" or "We need to write a comedy about a butcher with a dog that will take place in this office"? Find the film "The Five Obstructions" and get some inspiration. Thinking from a constrained viewpoint instead of having the entire world at your finger tips makes a much better film.
Today, I was checking on some video analytics for a client's YouTube account. I manage the postings for the account, and use the data to develop stronger videos as time goes on.
YouTube recently redesigned their analytics dashboard (again), and one of the changes was the addition of "Audience Retention." This feature kind of existed before as "Hot Spots." Hot Spots compared your video to other videos across YouTube of similar length, and showed you a relative graph of how much of your audience you were retaining relative to the other videos. The graph would show you peaks and valleys so you could check where people were likely skipping forward (valley), rewinding a section (peaks), or just leaving altogether (downward slope). It was a really good indicator of what people liked or didn't like about your video, and I used it a lot to see where I was losing people. It was a bit vague though -- it didn't really offer any true numbers, just "hot!" or "cold!"
The Audience Retention feature now calls this "Relative Audience Retention," one of two options available to view. The other option? Absolute Audience Retention. A real time, moment by moment graph of your viewers' attention to your video - and ONLY your video. I was checking some videos today on the Absolute Retention, including one of the most popular postings in the last year. This video has gotten a ton of views and is currently sitting at number 4 in the top 10 videos on the account.
The retention rate for the final two minutes of the video: 15%.
This video is the last part in a four part series following two guys as they go through a school. It's shown to new students in the classroom on the first or second day of classes, and I've been told that it's helped a lot to improve graduation rates since it puts people at ease. We've gotten a lot of really good feedback and students are engaged in the video the whole time (mostly, anyway). They remember the information provided, and their questions to instructors are better since they are more informed about everything.
The structure of the piece is pretty simple, basically three quick acts. The setup: it's the final day of class, the students have to pass a test, and there's a dramatic build up. Will they fail? Will they succeed? Then they pass and talk about how it felt and where they go next. Informative (if a little too talky at times but that's another post), sucks the students in, plays well on the big screen.
It gets a LOT of views on YouTube, but it simply doesn't hold the attention of the viewer the same way. They barely make it halfway through, and certainly don't make it to the end where we tell them what action they should be taking next. 7000 views in the last few months, but only 15% of those viewers are seeing the entire video.
This has made me think a lot about how to approach an edit for the web. In this case, the YouTube views fall off dramatically as soon as viewers know the outcome of the tests - basically, after the climax, they run for the door (typical.) The topic of the video is obviously a really popular search term since so many people hit it. But then they bail. Why? I'm assuming they just wanted to see what the test was like, and were engaged just enough to care if the guys passed. They aren't a captive audience, they're distracted by a million other things on the Internet, and while my video is answering their questions, they would prefer to be entertained instead. My conclusion is that I need to do more videos with this subject, and be more clever about how the action unfolds, and how I deliver the calls to action. The information you can gain from these graphs is not always so abstract. It can be as simple as checking to see if a setup falls flat, if a hook is grabby enough, or I suppose you could even compare versions of videos to see if different edits or graphics make a difference.
The interesting thing is that if you look at the Relative Retention on this video, it's not awful. Remember, this compares the audience retention to videos of similar length to yours.
What does that tell me? It tells me that YouTube users have no frickin' attention span, and it's all part of the challenge when editing for the Internet.And there's an awful lot of horrible crap on YouTube, weighing down the site.
And a lot of web video experts will tell you different things about this. The big thing right now seems to be "if your content is engaging, people will watch the whole thing no matter the length!" Yea, maybe for some audiences. But not all of them. This video I'm talking about is tightly edited, packed with good information, well-recieved among students, and answers a lot of questions. But YouTube viewers in my neck of the woods aren't interested. They might stick around if there was a nude woman, maybe. And that's a big maybe. I have to play a game with them and try new things to engage them and make them realize that this is the exact information they were seeking.
Go check out that Audience Retention tab on YouTube and see what juicy bits you can glean from it about your media. Are people rewinding a part to watch repeatedly, maybe a comedic cut? Are people fast-forwarding in a section that lags? Are you losing viewers in droves? Why? Of course, it's all one big psychological study. Who really knows what goes on in the brain of a typical YouTube user? And do any of us REALLY want to know?