THE PERFECT STORM 

I was again this month fortunate enough to be in London on the same day as the AMPS’ Pinewood Theatre 7 film showing of The Perfect Storm. In the absence of Graham Hartstone, Peter Musgrave and other Council members it fell upon me to introduce the movie. This gave the opportunity and great pleasure to announce that in the audience, accompanied by his granddaughter and two great grandchildren, was Hon Member Fred Hughesdon, whose 91st birthday it was that very day. Those present joined with me in wishing him many happy returns and gave him a really rousing round of applause. We all hope to see you at many more screenings, Fred. 

My hand wave to the projectionist to signal the show to start left me standing in the dark so, rather than stumble my way back to a perfect seat somewhere in mid auditorium, I slid into a seat in the middle of the very front row. I don’t think that I’ve ever sat so close to the screen since I was a kid of six or seven, when at that age like so many young Saturday matinee patrons, as the doors of the cinema opened I charged straight for the front row considering them to be the best seats in the house. 

In my Theatre 7 front row seat I had complete peripheral vision. I was unaware of the side edges of the screen. The top of the picture was out of view and I was aware of only a small amount below the bottom edge of the screen. It was almost like watching an IMAX show.

I was really in the picture. When the fishing boat rolled and pitched my eyes wobbled. I rolled and pitched with the boat. I was almost a member of the crew and felt that I too should be up there on deck gaffing giant swordfish and heaving them onboard. However as I wasn’t getting wet or feeling seasick, I was able to adjust to the fact that I was only watching a movie.

In taking such a close position to the screen and stereo speaker system I was a little apprehensive about the loudness I might have to endure, basing it on the fact that many AMPS members feel that shows in 

Theatre 7 are too loud. Well I can now say I am convinced my theory that the level of sound should berelative to size of picture whatever the size or shape of the auditorium is correct. Dialogue level shouldn’t give the actor a bigger voice that the picture gives him physical size. Comments on this theory are most welcome.

Sitting so close to the large screen with large images 

of actors, the level of the voices seemed to me to be right, although the diction of some of the cast left a lot to be desired. Other sound components were in good proportion. In this position I was unaware of the surround speakers but the stereo effect was excellent.

The post production sound crews led by the sound editor Wylie Stateman and chief rerecording mixer John Reitz, did an excellent job and deserve high praise. I felt very sorry for Production Sound mixer Keith Wester and his crew (I wonder was he chosen because his name suggested strong winds?) It must have been bloody hard work fighting the special effects. I also felt a certain respect for the male caste having to handle the gaffing of giant swordfish and the gallons of water deluged over them, but then, was it done digitally? Digital or not they did a most convincing job. 

For me, the fictional story content was pretty cliche ridden, we even had the old 1942 Bette Davis - Paul Henried routine of lighting two fags off one match. The direction and imagination in the shore sequences at the start and end were very dull and uninspired. The usual syrupy American sentiment at the start almost made me sick before we even got to sea.

Although the titles at the beginning of the movie told me it was based on a true story, I was unaware as I watched how the story would turn out. I was fairly convinced that in true American movie style it would be a happy ending, the boat intact with crew and catch would make their home port as great heroes and firm friends. It was therefore to me a big surprise, and I must say a pleasant one movie-wise, that the producers had let the boat sink with all hands. I only wish they hadn’t returned to the over sentimental loved ones back on shore. The shot of the single head bobbing about alone and helpless in the storm lashed Atlantic would for me have been the perfect image to leave the theatre with. The title telling of the numbers of lives lost fishing for sword fish over the past years could well have supered over this scene. (What do they do with the swordfish anyhow?) 

Just how the storm scenes were done I’ve no idea and I don’t really want anyone to tell me. They were really impressive so congratulations to all involved. By the extra long list of digital crew credits I wondered if anybody actually got wet.

I don’ t know how long the movie took to make. In the silent days, epic feature film publicity often made pronouncements such as ‘Two years in the making with a caste of thousands’. By the length of the end credits on Perfect Storm, the publicity claim could well be ‘With a crew of thousands’! 

BOB ALLEN