The Comfort Zone

Back when color grading was called color correction, back when Julius Caesar was a director, Mark Anthony his DP, and Cleopatra the agency creative, our media was 35mm film negative rather than hi-res files.

Forget about data storage issues and corrupt Quicktimes, the problem with color correcting 35mm film negative was plain old dust. Microscopic filaments of airborne effluvia that somehow managed to fall onto the frame you were color correcting.

So it was super important to get the color right ASAP, because running the film back and forth too many times kicked up too much dust. And when magnified by the telecine, dust manifested itself as ugly white spots on the image. Not good. Not good at all. Who cares if the talent’s skin seems too green if there’s a huge white blotch on her forehead?

Dust meant you’d need to clean the film with Trichloroethylene, which was as nasty as it sounds. And cleaning the film raised the possibility of scratching the film. Who cares if the product needs to be brighter if there’s a huge gash across the product’s brand name?

So, as I said, super important to get the color right ASAP before the dust Devils came knocking with their good friends Scratches, Scrapes and Sprocket Damage.

Back then, color grading was a lot more complicated than loading the footage, creating a timeline, and adjusting your primaries and secondaries. There was a lot that could go wrong. Very wrong. Consequently, it was vital to create a comfort zone for your clients.

This meant mood lighting in the suite, overstuffed armchairs, artisanal soda, freshly brewed coffee and obscure flavors of herbal tea, the obligatory platter of sushi, Smartfood popcorn and peanuts roasted in exotic spices most people have never heard of, candy bar variety pack, and finally the promise of a chocolate Martini when the session was done. A very comfortable working environment provided things were going well. But things could sometimes go too well.

For instance, I had a client fall asleep in the suite one mid-summer afternoon. ‘What do you think of this?’ I asked him, after applying a particularly astute hint of blue to the mid-tones of the first shot. His only reply was a comatose grunt followed by a series of volcanic snores. Way too much sushi at lunch, obviously.

Should I wake him up? If so, how?

‘What do you think of this?’ I asked again, this time in a much louder voice.

A brief snatch of incoherent dialogue from a salmon sashimi inspired dream is the response.

‘WHAT ABOUT THIS?’

Still nothing. Oh well, as long as he doesn’t fart, I told myself, I’ll just keep running through these scenes until we’re done.

Of course, it was necessary to review my color decisions when he woke up an hour later. At which point, he informed me they had previously established a look that I was supposed to emulate. ‘I have some reference frames here,’ he said, yawning. ‘Did I doze off there for a moment?’

‘Yeah, just for a second or two.’

Nowadays, when a client’s comfort zone is their remote home office, color approval arrives via email or text rather than in person, and depending on the number of opinions involved, can take up to a day or even a week instead of happening instantaneously. So who can guess what they get up to while I’m making color decisions? If the spot is in the apparently interminable process of being reviewed by legal, then the clients could be vacationing in the Bahamas for a month as far as I know. But as long as they’re good. I’m good too.

Just get me those reference frames before we begin. Thanks.