Interview
Ellen Schneider - Steve Atlas

INTERVIEW - RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW
Debuting April 7, 2000 on PBS An interview with Ellen Schneider, Executive Producer, and Steve Atlas, Executive Editor.

To create the films in this series, you put cameras in the hands of non-professional filmmakers (diarists) and asked them to tell the story of the life-changing experiences they were going through. Why did you choose this method of filmmaking?

ELLEN SCHNEIDER (ES): No matter how sensitive, or how much a fly on the wall filmmakers intend to be, their presence, their filters, their perceptions, and judgments become part of the story. What they shoot, when they turn the camera on and off, how they ask a question, and certainly what makes the final cut, comes from their point of view. But when a diarist speaks to the camera, or even pans across their kitchen, you're getting an insider's perspective. It is the authenticity and the pure subjectivity of the storyteller that makes this work different.

But you didn't leave them completely on their own: you paired them with professional producers. Why?

STEVE ATLAS (SA): The trick was to stay true to that kind of raw, original, unpolished voice, but to give it enough shape and structure so in the end it was a sustainable piece of television that somebody, other than the diarist's Uncle Max, would want to watch.

What makes a good diarist?

SA: Essentially three qualities. First, they must have a story to tell, which, in this case, means they're on the brink of an experience that will change the course of their lives. Second, that they have enough insight and enough observational skill to be able to learn something from the process and articulate what they are learning. And third, some kind of intangible television quality: are they communicators who can reach out to people from behind the camera lens?

ES: Giving someone a camera and telling them to go make good, coherent television is like giving someone a laptop and telling them to go write a novel. You have to have the innate storytelling ability. It's pretty rare; I certainly couldn't do it.

How did you find these particular people?

SA: We identified several situations that we thought would be interesting to hear about from an insider, and then found organizations that were willing to put us in touch with potential diarists. Sometimes we flew out to meet the candidates, sometimes we did phone interveiws. In some cases we actually mailed people the cameras and an envelope with a handful of questions we wrote exclusively for them. They were told to start the camera up (we gave instructions on how to do it) and then open the envelope and answer the questions, because we wanted to see what they'd do in a kind of improvised setting.

Of the twenty diarists you set up with cameras, how many ended up with finished films?

SA: I would guess at least half of them didn't work out in fairly early stages and the other half we took farther along. The attrition rate is just enormous on these things. You're really looking for these few little nuggets in a great, huge rock pile and very few people in the end survive this long process.

Who made the final decisions in the editing room?

SA: We had contracts with the diarists in which they were guaranteed that we would not run these pieces until they signed off on them. At several different stages, including final cut, they had to approve the program. This is a departure from conventional television production. Ordinarily you do your interview with somebody, they sign a release on the spot and they don't see it again until it's on the air. There are so many forms of reality programming on television these days, from newsmagazines to biography series.

What does allowing the subject to tell his or her own story add to the mix?

ES: We want to recognize the subject as the expert. That's different than being exploited or humiliated on a daytime talk show. But in a way, we're doing what previous generations have always done, which is to document one's own experiences as they unfold, whether it's on a cave wall, with a quill pen, or a typewriter. Sometimes those autobiographies have become public documents, little windows into who we really are at a certain time in history.

Does that mean using the first-person voice makes for a better documentary?

ES: I think to qualitatively compare the different forms of authorship misses the point. An autobiography doesn't necessarily ask the same kinds of pointed, difficult questions that a biographer would. I'm sure there are some terrific scenes that RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW diarists shot that are on the cutting room floor, because they're too personal or painful. The point is that through these little cameras, we've got the opportunity to walk in someone else's shoes for an hour or so, and I think that's really exciting.

SA: I certainly don't see this as replacing the documentary form or more traditional kinds of journalism. I see it as an addition, as a way to use some new technologies. I don't think it's superior to others; I just think it's intriguing in how different it is. It enables you to go to certain places and do things that you wouldn't be able to do by more traditional means.