Most filmmakers know what a lack of resources looks like. We can’t afford a crew, lights, cameras, sets and especially time. It’s an uphill battle just to make anything, so the camera sits in the case waiting…
But… If you keep your eyes open, you might find yourself in some pretty high-production-value locations without paying a penny. Or, surrounded by props you could never afford, or being lit up in a display you don’t have budget to get. The world is a fascinating place and there are some very expensive film sets waiting to be used.
I learnt a lesson in guerrilla filmmaking while in Europe. My brother Andrew (filmmaking partner in crime) and I were living in Budapest, Hungary. The country’s national day is St. Istvan’s Day on August 20th, when the city comes alive with parades, fairs, fireworks and… crowds. So being the curious foreigners we are, we made our way to the centre.
In order to easily move the crowds across both sides of the Danube River that splits the city, the famous Budapest Chain Bridge is opened to pedestrians. As we were walking across, we passed four police cars at one end of the bridge, their lights blazing, parked in a line to keep traffic to the roads and people to the safety of the closed-off streets. I had a camera with me (a Lumix GH5) to photograph the fireworks later that evening. Andrew stopped me near the police cars and says we should film something. He points out this is a rare opportunity to get footage of police lights without: A) being jerks and filming at an actual crime scene or B) paying a fortune to get real police cars and lights onto a film set.
Neither of us had any idea why we would need footage of police lights but our logic was sound. So I took out the camera and we spent about ten minutes just shooting random footage of the lights, the cars, my brother looking mysterious, standing, walking… And we ended up with a collection of police lights footage that went on a hard drive later that night, sitting amongst the footage of fireworks and random travel shots from European locales. Very little effort and it was a bit of fun.
Fast forward six months or so and I have an idea for a narrative video and I recall the footage. I go through the hard drive and dig them out. They’re as I remember them and I start editing. In need of a few more shots, I go through other old footage folders, finding unused moments from travel videos, a bonfire night with friends, free light leaks I’d downloaded and some old VFX packs.
I edited together my shots and recorded a quick voice over on my old Zoom H4N. I’m still in need of a few more voices for the story so I record lines from Andrew and write to a few friends who message me back simple phone recordings. I throw on some audio filters and a few effects to the footage. I find a cool royalty-free track (I sent the artist the finished film and he loved it) and the whole thing has come together.
The result is a minute-long fantasy film about an unsung superhero. A man who has saved countless lives without the world knowing... Superheroes can be invisible. Much like the inspiration that we all crave but is right there near us. It’s not a complex masterpiece of cinema, but it’s something I’m very proud of. So far it’s been selected for three film festivals, been well-received online, and used in a couple of treatments for paid projects. It was an experiment in shooting that turned into an experiment in editing and storytelling, and all from nothing but recycled creativity and having my camera ready.
At other points, I have filmed rain falling in slow motion through a 19th century courtyard, or waves lapping a beach during a grand sunrise. These shots have ended up being critical in bigger projects of mine.
As a filmmaker, Superhero is a lesson in keeping my eyes open, using the camera I have waiting, and being ready to imagine. If you find yourself somewhere cool (and pay attention because normal places are cooler than you think from the right angles), take advantage of it. Build up a library of your own stock footage. You might end up using it in a later short film or a commercial, or you might end up selling it, but you’ll definitely be learning from it.
Now something I have to mention and admit to, because my brother can’t have forgotten, is that when he suggested filming the lights I really didn’t see why I should. It seemed to be a useless amount of effort with no clear purpose or plan. And what could be done with pointless footage?
I’m glad I listened to him.
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Note From Tongal: “Turn Your Found Footage Into a Short Film" is part of a series of Tongal Community-written blog posts that were originally sourced in the Tongal Blog Open Call Project. The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Tongal. Read more Tongal Community-written posts here and then Pitch us a topic you'd like to write about for the Tongal Blog!
