frankenface
Man, it’s weird looking at your own face on film.
I did the second shooting of this student film project at Holy Cross this afternoon. The first time we shot, "technical errors" wiped out the entire session. Luckily, it was a mock-news broadcast that required one set and one actor. So it was easy enough for me to come back a second time to finish the project for the director.
After we shot, she took a look at the tape to make absolutely sure all was copasetic, and as I looked over her shoulder, I realized how strange it is to see yourself talking. Normally, you look in the mirror when you brush your teeth, check your clothes, do your hair/make-up. And while you’re looking, you’re making the most attractive face, looking at the best possible you.
You’re not talking. You’re not creating dimples where there aren’t usually dimples. You’re not forming your mouth into shapes you’ve never seen before. In short, you’re not looking like the most ridiculous thing imaginable.
But no one ever tells you how silly you look when you talk. You have no clue until you see it for yourself–guard down, completely truthful. Not the self-conscious pep-talk you give to yourself or the comic, "You talkin’ me?" routine. The dirty, flawed, utterly strange You.
Of course, no one thinks you look strange, because that’s how you always look.
It’s really disturbing.
I suppose I better get over it if I want to have a chance at a film career. After all, look at Paul Giamatti: he’s pretty funny-looking and he’s on top of the world now.
(No offense, Paul.)
