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44 C I N E M O N T A G E F E A T U R E interviews done by the time we give it to the writer, who throws quotes into various places," said Burns. "Usually, every talking head gets moved at least once, if not 20 times, during the editing process. We want to be corrigible to the end." When the script's first draft is done, it is sent to scholars. Burns and his team will chop it up; they may go through 20 drafts. "The script becomes a conversation among me, the writer, my co-directors and co-producers, and our scholars—who are not window dressing. In fact, we've been humbled, in some cases humiliated, by a subject we thought we knew. We never stop researching, and we never stop writing." They call the initial editing process a blind assembly. "We listen to it almost as a radio play, with me as the narrator and people in the office reading first-person voices (if that film has first-person voices)." All the talking heads are jump-cut together, and the editors don't begin adding pictures until drafts three, four, or five of the script. And then it takes another year or two of editing to refine the film (particularly on a big series). "Any time you see a talking head in our film, its location is sort of a happy accident of trial and error." After seeing "Trekkies," actor Walter Koenig had a criticism of the film: "You should have had more of me in the film! But that's my actor's ego talking." I laughed and agreed. I especially missed him in the segment about the memories of the first convention. I explained how, unfortunately, because he was one of our first interview- ees, our theme questions had yet to evolve fully, so we neglected to ask him about his first convention experience. Koenig's crit- icism is typically the No. 1 criticism I have received from interviewees. After sitting for a couple hours and then seeing only two minutes in the film—or maybe even just one quote—it's often a shock how little remains. THIS IS A TEST Sometimes you must remove segments you love because they don't fit the overall scheme. The way that becomes clear is by watching rough cuts with an audience. Don't rely on yourself and a few buddies to tell you you've got a great movie. Studios test movies for a reason. Film agent Glen Reynolds of Circus Road Films said, "I've been around several films that got into Sundance that would never have gotten in on the first cut before testing. Have five or six screenings of ten people, ranging from editors to your barista to your Aunt Joy. Sometimes you find common issues among people, something you might need to address that you wouldn't have thought of. Some people get caught up in the belief, 'It's my vision, and I know it works, so I don't need to do that.' But that's a mistake." An audience can't tell you how to fix your movie, but they will show you where the problems are. You will feel where it drags when you observe people screening your film. Ask specific questions about the weaknesses you suspect your film has. If they confirm your suspicions, work on fix- ing those issues. If you disagree with their criticisms, go with your instinct. The film is your vision, not theirs. Liz Garbus said, "Tuning out the noise and listening to my gut is something I constantly have to re- mind myself to do. If you don't listen to your gut, you're lost because there will always be a sea of voices telling you different things. If you're the filmmaker, you need to be tuned in to that voice." Freida Lee Mock wondered what people would have said if Picasso had done test screenings for his portraits. What if some- one had said, "Oh, Dora Maar's right eyeball looks weird. Shouldn't it be closer to her nose?" Or, "'Guernica' is too busy. There are too many animals and soldiers lying upside down." With "Maya Lin: A Strong Clear Vision" (1995), Mock's only screenings included those who worked on the film. For later films, Mock showed fine cuts to three or four friends who were not in the industry and whose opinions she valued. "Typically, I find out what's not clear. I don't change much, but it's often an issue of clarity." Sam Pollard cuts without music at first. "I try to build things and then have the music work with the scene." If you edit with music in place, it can hide problems. Adding music to a completed scene should support the natural emotions that the footage al- ready evokes. Many documentaries use no score at all. Frederick Wiseman avoids add- ing a score. At most, there may be incidental or source music, such as in "Model" (1981), where music plays in the studios where the models are working. After I add a temporary score pulled from movie soundtracks, songs, or library music, my composer and I watch the film together and discuss all the places where I placed temp music. This is called a spotting session. That music is then replaced with an original score by the composer. A documen- tary composer needs a diverse set of skills to avoid falling into one sound throughout; sometimes, you have to shake the audience up with something different. Ken Burns approaches music differently. He records music early, well before a scene is edited. The music brings an emotional im- pact that he is trying to preserve by making the music primary. "We want music to be something more than just what's added at the end to amplify emotions you hope are there." For "The Civil War" (1990), Burns went through hymnals and popular sheet music from that era, collected around 35 songs, and recorded each in 30 different ways. "We don't score the films; we edit to the music. We will change a line of narration to get out of the way of a musical phrase. My brother Ric [Burns] once said, 'All the other art forms, when they die and go to heaven, aspire to be music.'" If you begin shooting a documentary but it stalls out and you put it on the shelf for a while, this could turn into a terrific opportu- nity to follow up in the future to find out how your subjects' lives have changed. During the hiatus, a story might have blossomed. Michael Apted's brilliant "Up" series (1964- 2019) utilized this technique to perfection, checking in with 14 individuals every seven years, beginning when they were seven years old. For "The Truth About Marriage" (2020), I shot my first interview in 2012 with a rapper I met while traveling through Brazil. Don Blanquito was charismatic, funny, and SEE PAGE 61