All language subtitles for 03-Martins Education

[MUSIC PLAYING]

When I went to NYU
in the early 60s--

1960 I think it was--

it certainly wasn't
the NYU we know today.

It was Washington Square
College which I enrolled in.

It was quite small, and
the introduction to film

really wasn't a film
school so to speak.

There were film
departments along

There were film
departments along

with radio and television,
but the introduction to film

was split into--

the first two
semesters, and they

were called History of
Motion Pictures one and two.

This along with all the
other required courses

for the first two
years of the school.

Our teacher was a man named Haig
Manoogian of Armenian descent.

And from the first class he
talked very, very, very fast,

almost like a drill instructor,
and he covered a lot of ground

very quickly.

And I remember sitting
there just taking

And I remember sitting
there just taking

endless notes, endless notes.

He'd show a film,
and if he thought

a student was just there for--

to waste time, just take
it easy and watch movies,

he would throw
them out basically.

So he weeded people out.

And in our second year we took
an introductory production

course.

We had 16 millimeter
cameras, and it

was called sight and sound.

And we learned the very
basic, the rudiments of film

making, the very basic
elements of lenses,

making, the very basic
elements of lenses,

using 16 millimeter
black and white film.

We did little exercises.

And by the end of the semester,
by the end of the year,

I think it was, we were
able to make a three to four

minute film based on what we
had learned about the equipment

and lighting and
that sort of thing.

In those classes, more
people were weeded out.

What Haig focused on
ultimately, and he was heavily

What Haig focused on
ultimately, and he was heavily

influenced by the Italian
near realism and new wave

filmmaking, but
he really focused

on the individual voice, the
individual stories that you

felt that you had to tell.

And he wouldn't
let anyone direct

unless they had written
the film themselves.

Separate from a nonfiction
film, I'm talking about.

And if you didn't
write it yourself,

basically you were
out of the class.

I remember one student telling
him, "I want to direct."

I remember one student telling
him, "I want to direct."

And he says, "OK.

Where's your script?"

And he said, "Well,
I need a script.

I'm a director."

He said, "No.

Go write your script.

Otherwise, you can't do it/"

He also-- we found ourselves
at odds because, I mean,

he hated melodrama.

He hated-- he said
I don't want to see

any of you kids going for a shot
where somebody picks up a gun.

He was encouraging everyone to
express themselves and protect

that spark in themselves,
and not be influenced

by other kinds of filmmaking.

If they wanted that sort of
thing, then go into television

or go into another--

go to Los Angeles was
a different situation.

go to Los Angeles was
a different situation.

It was a little
different for me,

because I grew up in a
world where at times people

had access to guns, and
that was part of life

or a fact of life at times.

So melodrama would turn out to
be drama to a certain extent.

And eventually that led to Mean
Streets and other films I made,

but that was in the early 70s.

He was really developing
individual voices

that would make very, very
different kinds of film.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

[MUSIC PLAYING]

What he was finally getting
to his the understanding

or comprehension
of cinema itself.

He never used that word.

Motion pictures, you know?

You could say film,
cinema, movies,

but he always said
motion pictures.

He was trying to get
for us to understand,

what is the potential of
the moving image and the cut

so to speak.

Now, what that means is a kind
of immersion in the process--

Now, what that means is a kind
of immersion in the process--

an immersion in the process--

which means not only the
writing, the working,

or the script and the page, or--

a paragraph could be
a script, of course.

But one would have
to work it out

in the shooting with non-actors,
with actors, or simply images

without people in the frame.

It comes to the point of
where you take the images

and you're in an "editing
room" quote unquote,

and you're in an "editing
room" quote unquote,

or computer these
days or whatever,

and you put it together
to tell a narrative.

Now the narrative can be
about the color of blue.

It could be about the
color red, you know?

It could be about music.

It could be music itself.

The nature of the
actual moving image,

even if it's a still
image, has another quality

which is different from a
still photograph and a painting

and a piece of music.

and a piece of music.

So all of this is
about understanding

the value of cinema itself
and recreating it constantly,

recreating constantly
from yourself, OK?

And that even deals with
narratives cinema, of course.

So what he talked about
was always the value

of a shot, a value of a shot.

And I didn't understand
until we were

in the editing process of--

a number of us,
we'd shoot something

a number of us,
we'd shoot something

with the intention of
using it one way or in one

section of the film, let's say.

And then at some point
where we'd really

get into the editing
of the picture,

and because of so
many different changes

and so many different
decisions that

were made that you don't
expect, suddenly you

found yourself using a
shot that you thought

was meant for one place.

And you're using it in another
place and it makes sense.

And I remember him becoming very
excited when one or two of us

did that, and he goes, now you
understand the value of a shot.

The shot is a value
in and of itself.

The shot is a value
in and of itself.

No matter what you shot
it for, it may not matter.

It may not matter ultimately.

It takes on its own life.

It takes on its own
intention, and it takes

on its own essence in a way.

And this is something
that you can't teach.

You have to just do it.

But this was the
excitement I saw him--

the way I saw he was so excited
when the student or one of us--

the way I saw he was so excited
when the student or one of us--

I forget who it was now--

when we stumbled on this.

He goes, now you get what
I've been talking about.

And we'd mentioned,
yeah, but professor,

when Truffaut said that
when he was editing a film

and it's going one way,
he would tend to want

to cut it to go another way.

And he said, I
don't believe that.

And he said, that's
part of the process.

He thinks he's doing that, but
he's going to a final point

somewhere in the
telling of the story,

somewhere in the
telling of the story,

whether it's Jules et Jim and
whether it's the La Peau Douce,

I mean, it's going somewhere.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

The essence of what he gave
us was the essence, the spark.

He was the inspiration.

He was the one to
give me the confidence

to become a filmmaker, to
come from this other world

to become a filmmaker, to
come from this other world

and suddenly be able
to express myself

with film that
might even be shown

in theaters at some point, or
might be shown to an audience.

You can't learn to
make a film in school.

You can have the opportunity
to make the film in school.

You have to learn it yourself.

Great thing about
the film school

is the inspiration
and the ability

to give you the confidence if
you have something that you

really feel passionate about.

And I think that's the greatest
thing any teacher or any guide

And I think that's the greatest
thing any teacher or any guide

could give a student.

That is, the confidence
and the inspiration

to make you think, well,
you know it's crazy,

but maybe I can do it.