by William B. Kaplan CAS
We each have a unique, personalized story on how we got into film, and how that path evolved to a career in sound. I thought I would share mine. Sometimes I think I’m a DP in a five-decade time- out. Please don’t get me wrong, I love sound and I’m getting better at it all the time. Over fifty-five years at it, it’s a really good start!
My father started in film in 1922, in the silent days. He did both Ben-Hur’s, the 1927 and the sound version in 1958. From five years old and throughout my life, I visited my father on his movie sets, all over the world. At six years old, I sat on the second seat of the camera dolly and watched Gene Kelly dance in Singin’ in the Rain and Bogart push The African Queen, at MGM Studios. I watched the Westrex, 35mm mag, sprocketed tape machine start up in a glass booth. When the weighted arms on the machine stopped swinging, the recordist would yell out, “Speed.” I was photographed sitting on “Jackie” the MGM lion, when Technicolor first shot the MGM logo, the lion’s roar. I visited my father’s sets of Doctor Zhivago, Lawrence of Arabia, The Ten Commandments, Cleopatra, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, North by Northwest, Jailhouse Rock, Mutiny on the Bounty, and so many more.
After three colleges, I ended up at UCLA, headed toward medicine, neurology. When Vietnam came along and without explaining my politics here, I went to Paris. I had signed up for a standby, UCLA film program. A Chinese production company accidentally got ahold of that student wait list. They needed a DP for their anamorphic, 35mm, color feature film. Not understanding what they had, I got a call to be their DP. Of course, I said yes. Hello showbiz! I studied the Mitchell Rack Over camera manual all night; how to thread the film and how to view in the rack over position. I practiced the wheels of a gear head, with my hands in the air, by trying to track a fly in my room. That was a wonderful, learning experience. That the producers could barely speak English helped. I soon went into a little company that did government contract documentaries and training films. I was given a plane ticket, a tripod, a 16mm sound camera, a Nagra 3, and then a Nagra 4L, a lavalier and a Mickey Mole Richardson, four-light combo kit. I got to capture hundreds of stories all over the United States. I even worked for the Deptartment of Defense and made political spots for President Nixon and The White House.
At that point, Roger Corman was seeking out UCLA film graduates, to work on his super low-budget, super basic nonunion, super almost-no-pay feature films. We made features for one client who owned fifteen drive-in movie theaters; they were just for his drive-ins! I have a history of doing sound on some and camera on others. I recall doing a series of prison films with Jim Brown, the football star. The crew were mainly UCLA film students. We had studied the crafts of most departments … hair, makeup, wardrobe, grip, electric, camera, props, set decoration, etc. Most people knew little about sound, other than we used a boom. We would do something called “rotation” on the set. Every forty-five minutes, someone would blow a whistle and we would change job positions. We could do it all, we were young filmmakers! Earl Sampson and I were film students together at UCLA. Earl was my Boom Operator on one hundred nineteen films.
Roger Corman’s office called, asking me about an upcoming feature, and if I want to do sound or camera? I knew to ask what the positions paid, before I answered, “Sound $600 a week all in, DP $250!” I asked if they would please explain that crazy difference … “no prestige in sound, we just have to pay, for camera it’s a stepping-stone position!” I chose sound, for the money! My career’s future was defined, as I hung up the phone.
I did dozens and dozens of nonunion films: disco, Westerns, race car films, some in 3D. I learned the craft of filmmaking. I made two feature films myself, only with one other person, Susumu Tokunow. We wrote, shot, recorded, edited, mixed, scored, had prints made, did lobby one-sheets for advertising, bought film reels and shipping containers. I hand-carried my films straight to projection booths, at several theaters. Susumu and I made a releasable, 35mm, sound feature film for $3,200, all in! We learned the entire process. Then, when the negatives and prints were stolen from the labs by underworld film distributors, we learned even more about the film business.
Jeff Wexler CAS and I teamed up with an attorney and sued for a teeny, legal window, to join the sound Local. With the help of the late and great Haskell Wexler, we became Local 695 union members. Studio sound departments weren’t keen on young, new, up-and-coming mixers, who hadn’t put in their apprentice time. We both were harshly unsupported by our studios, at that time. Jeff’s amazing first effort was Bound for Glory and mine was Animal House. As Bob Dylan wrote, “The Times They Are A-Changin’.”
Documentary Features
In 1968, the Maysles Brothers were about to produce a Rolling Stones film called Gimme Shelter. It was to be performed and filmed at Sears Point Raceway, above San Francisco. Everything was built for a huge turnout, with facilities and all the accommodations. The Maysles got several of us together for a production/planning meeting on a houseboat in Sausalito, CA. We were ten or more groups of camera and sound, to split up and to go to the far corners of the US, to document kids’ experiences on their individual path to Gimme Shelter. This was the plan. About three days before the performance date, Sears Point canceled. Another location was found quickly, a vacant ranch in Altamont, CA. It had nothing, no bathrooms, water or facilities of any kind, just dirt. The one-lane road in was immediately blocked. The Hell’s Angels were hired to be security, being paid with beer. It quickly became very violent. With no roads available, The Stones flew in on a hot-air balloon and Mick was punched in the face, getting out of the basket. I was the mixer and at times did some camera. With nothing to drink under the hot sun, jugs of apple juice appeared, mixed with LSD, compliments of security. Four people were killed and there were four births.
In 1972, I was asked to go to the Mayan Mountains of Southern Mexico and record a feature, using indigenous people as actors, portraying mythical stories from the Mayan bible. My Boom Operator, Earl Sampson, and I fitted a monster pickup to be jungle-ready. At the last minute, we were asked to smuggle in a complete Panavision camera package, which we did. The film was being funded completely out of pocket, by its writer-director. It was scheduled for six weeks. I brought a very small, plastic carry case with a Nagra 4L, a 50-foot and a 10-foot XLR cable, a Sennheiser 815 and an RE15, hand mic, that’s all! After six weeks, the DP had to leave for another film. I took over as DP and Earl became the mixer. The film went over by five months. I did a wonderful job as DP and Earl delivered great tracks. Going home, I was asked to smuggle back a producer’s child and return the camera package. It all worked out.
I will share some experiences with several wonderfully supportive directors.
John Landis
Kentucky Fried Movie – Animal House – The Blues Brothers, Twilight Zone – Thriller (playback) – Into the Night – Three Amigos – Coming to America – Oscar.
On Animal House, during the filming of the toga party planning scene, I was mixing in a little phone booth, off the kitchen of the fraternity house. The cook was making breakfast for the house brothers, as John Belushi was asking, “Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor?” The phone rang behind my head. It was someone from Local 695 calling to tell me, I wasn’t yet sworn in, and that I must be replaced! I was to return to the union office in LA and get that done. I had the solution, which I explained to the Local. We were rolling and I whispered that I was mixing with my left hand and could raise my right hand, ready to take the oath. That’s how it went…
The Germans were bombing Pearl Harbor, the toga party was being planned, the pancakes were ready, and I became a member of Local 695. John Landis played a wonderful part in the presentation of my CAS Career Achievement Award, and we are still good friends today.
On Three Amigos, our three actors did their dialog riding horses on gravel. It was terribly crunchy. I broomed the gravel away enough to put down “Hogs Hair,’’ to accommodate three horses. The horses’ walking was now silent.
Robert Zemeckis
Romancing the Stone – Back to the Future (all three) – Death Becomes Her – Forrest Gump – What Lies Beneath – Castaway – The Polar Express – Contact – Monster House – Beowulf – A Christmas Carol – Flight – The Walk.
I went for an interview for a film called Romancing the Stone. The interview was with the main lead, Michael Douglas. During the interview, he asked me what should he do to interview me? He asked how quickly I might repair a broken Nagra? I told him I had never heard of such a thing but what a brilliant idea.
I was hired. I went to Mexico early to a hardware store and made several rain hood baskets for the booms. I don’t think they were marketed yet. They worked. There was a scene with a rear half of a DC-3 airplane fuselage. In the story, it crashed years ago, carrying bales of marijuana. We had local firetrucks pounding water on the plane, all during low dialog. Again, we wrapped the plane in Hogs Hair and that was that.
I’m good with backhoes, and second nature with sailboats, aerobatic aircraft, and eighteen-wheelers. Not so at all, in the computer/digital world.
After learning so much about motion capture from The Polar Express, Bob Zemeckis took on an existing production facility in Playa Vista and transformed it into a motion capture studio. Tom Giordano and I helped convert the facility for sound, wiring the building to record, playback and with a full mix/control room. The building’s air conditioning rumbled the building. When it rained, the noise pounded the stage. I had all the roof air handling units remounted on shock absorbers, so the building didn’t vibrate. We soundproofed the entire roof. When we were finished, Bob asked for a noise test. We had water trucks surround the building to create a powerful rain downpour. We stood in the middle of a very quiet stage, when Bob told us to turn on the rain. I announced, “It’s been on for five minutes!”
Sir Tony Scott
Top Gun – Beverly Hills Cop II – True Romance – Crimson Tide – The Fan – Enemy of the State – Unstoppable.
I heard that Tony Scott was going to do a movie called Top Gun. I had a pilot’s license, and my passion was flying. I really wanted to get on that film. I put my pilot license number in bold at the top of my resume. At that time, I was trying to get either Pretty in Pink or Top Gun! Somehow, I got an interview with Tony Scott. During the interview, he told me that he wanted the aircraft carrier parts recorded on ½” four track tape! I had done some of The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas that way. It required a huge, studio, timecode, Ampex, rolling console. I explained that it would be impossible, going up and down ladders and tight crawl spaces with a studio recorder. As I was talking, I see the director’s dreams drain out of his face. I knew I was blowing it. Right in front of him, I slid out of the chair, hit my knees, bowing up and down with my arms rising back-and-forth to the carpet, yelling out like a mad man, “I want to do this movie so bad, please, please just let me make your movie, I will do a great job, I promise, I will do anything to do this film!” Tony stood up, leaned forward over his desk looking at me on the carpet, shook his head and said, “You’re hired.” Tony supported me in whatever I needed.
On Crimson Tide, Gene Hackman had a long walk and talk, while holding a little dog and an umbrella. He was addressing hundreds of soldiers, and walking under metal- roofed structures. We were to create a very heavy downpour, all through the dialog. Tony agreed to my request … do the wide shot first, break for dinner. I’ll have a large crew Hogs Hair all the metal building rooftops for the close-up, after the meal. We had a transmitter inside Gene’s hat and a lav under the hat’s bill. In the close-up, we didn’t hear the rain. He trusted me to do things like that.
I’m told I can be strong-willed on the set. I feel it’s my job to go to any lengths to protect the quality of the sound. The Top Gun aircraft carrier had a powerful radar antenna that buzzed the Nagra with every revolution. I had brought sheets of new metal for the heads, placing it under the cover of the recorder, but to no avail. We were in the middle of NATO exercises with many countries and ships involved. I insisted that we can’t record with this radar problem, and I asked that it be turned off. That got a laugh from the boat’s captain. They referred me to the admiral of the fleet. I questioned him, what would he do in battle if the radar was knocked out, how would he continue? I guess he accepted the challenge and ordered radar aircraft out in different directions, to cover their needs.
The radar was turned off!
At Miramar Naval Air Station, with Tom Cruise delivering a high-five and the words, “I have a need for speed,” I asked that the twenty or so screaming jets behind them all be turned off. It went to the commander quickly, who showed up with a stack of bumper stickers and dropped them on my mixer. They read, “Jet Noise, The Sound of Freedom.” And that was that!
Again, my first nature is mechanical, not digital. Now we can make the world quiet through apps in post, not so historically. On Crimson Tide, we had a submarine set, in cross section, longways. It filled the entire stage. Hydraulically, it had an arc of movement of over sixteen feet. A lowrider crew was hired to do the under-platform hydraulics. It was very loud. Showing it to the director for the first time, it self-destructed. A wonderful special effects department came in to do it correctly.
I appealed to Tony Scott again, that I could make it completely silent. He gave me carte blanche. All the hydraulic pumps and motors were moved to a concrete block shack off stage, and all the skinny lines changed to large diameter ones to eliminate the sound of the rushing hydraulic fluid. We cut the stage floor and had the hydraulic hoses put three feet deep in wet sand. Half the rams were eliminated by introducing a massive universal joint. The set could move in its entire range rapidly, all in silence. Tony’s support let me do that! That film brought me to my knees, asking my higher power if I was cut out for this profession. We had to use plant mics only with no booming possible. The mix was furiously fast and never the same take to take. It got my deepest attention.
I took a five-year break from mixing and started a grip-electric rental facility with several eighteen-wheelers, grip, electric, generators, expendables, manufacturing, with thirteen employees. After five years of running a business, I got home sick. I sold the company and went back to the set.
Roger Corman
As I’m writing this, I’m finding out that Roger Corman just passed away. This is powerful, I am crying. That man gave us the passion for the art and craft of filmmaking. Rarely, he came on the set of his movies. When he did, we knew it was important. On one appearance, he asked to see the director’s script and announced that we were four pages behind. He took the script from the director’s hands, tore out the four pages, folded them into his pocket and walked off, saying, “So, now you’re back on schedule!” Another time, he appeared and stopped everything. He announced that we were taking too long lighting and working out camera moves. He gave us a lesson on the spot. With two people seated on a couch, two end tables with a lamp on each and a large picture frame behind them, he proclaimed we could shoot a wide master, a medium two, two tight profiles, opposing over the shoulders and two tight singles, all without moving the camera or one light. I won’t take the time here to offer the lesson, but please know he enlightened us with the magic of filmmaking.
Thank you, thank you Mr. Roger Corman, for taking a chance and trusting us with so little money and hardly any time that we could be good enough to make releasable feature films. You gave us the opportunity to trudge this path, sharing your film knowledge with us. No one else was willing to do that. As an homage, many of us have used you as an actor in our films, as we grew up. We will miss you. God bless.
Currently
After a mix of one hundred fifty-seven documentaries and features, and over fifty-seven years, I’m doing television, for the first time. The Morning Show, for Apple TV+ is one of the largest projects I’ve ever done and possibly the most complicated. It’s such a good vibe, from the bottom up and from the top down. It’s a gift to get to work every day. How are we so lucky that when we walk on the set, we might hug or blow a kiss to our stars, to our amazing director/producer, Mimi Leder, crew and the rest of the talented production. I realize after decades of therapy and a long career; the set is my home, and the crew is my family…
On this job, I have an amazing, four-person sound crew. My utility and technical genius, equipment builder, tech-digital master and partner in sound is Tom Giordano. We’ve been on projects together for twenty-six years. My phenomenal Boom Operator, Johnny Miller, can do anything with a microphone, besides he’s a full mixer himself. And the love of our lives, our fourth person, Krysten Kabzenell. Krysten can radio mic perfectly the craziest clothes or a character with no clothes at all. She might be the smallest on our crew, but she wields all the power.
I thought I’d reflect on my gratitude for some magical and privileged moments a film life has gifted me, beyond those childhood moments by my father.
As a single parent for thirty-six years, my career supported the three of us, and put my daughter through medical school to be a Veterinarian Surgeon, and promoted the know-how for my son’s business of constructing TV broadcast studios, after he worked on several huge films
A brief gratitude list, from my career in sound.
I got to:
Two interviews in India with Indira Gandhi, as she teased us about phony gurus in America… Recording the singing of prayers in the Taj Mahal… Accidentally baptized in a Doughboy pool, documenting Christian baptisms… Getting to walk the life of Jesus in Jerusalem, from his manger, down the Via Dolorosa and to Cavalry… Walked with Frank Sinatra in The Vatican City… Went around the world three times… Worked in more than twenty-eight countries… Doing behind the scenes of several world-famous rock musicians all over the world (and somehow lived through it)… Lived aboard active-duty US aircraft carriers, three times… Recorded sync dialog in F-14’s beyond the sound barrier… Secret interviews with still unnamed fugitives… Got to drive every Formula-1 race track in Europe… Got to be friends with some internationally, well-known people, being able to know them merely as regular people… Been blessed with seven Oscar nominations, received the CAS Award for Forrest Gump, the MPSE Award for Crimson Tide, and the CAS Career Achievement Award… Tom Giordano and I have been privileged to mentor up and coming film students on productions, through an Oscar-supported program… My sound career is where I have met my greatest challenges, learned to appreciate my victories, and to gracefully accept defeats as wonderful lessons.
There is nothing more fulfilling than giving back.