The Storm

        "It's time," Roger said. "It's now or never."
        "But it looks like it could storm," cried out Barbara. "Are you sure?"
        But Roger was persistent. "The light is perfect -- and it won't last for long."
        The two grabbed up their belongings and bounded out of the old pick-up truck and into the adjacent farmyard. Roger ran ahead carrying the bulky tripod and camera while Barbara followed bringing the knapsack
        "This is it!" yelled Roger, as he stopped and began setting up the tripod. The wind was picking up. The horses seemed a bit nervous. Was it due to the change in the weather, or these strange people who had invaded their pasture?
        The camera was bolted onto the tripod, and the three legs adjusted incrementally. Then the head was tilted to aim the camera toward the sky.
        "Look at it!" "It's incredible." The unusual sky was an eerie combination of menacing navy blue clouds gathering in from the east and lighter colored clouds from the west. Reddish rays of light were cracking through the surface -- rays that stayed narrow in width all the way to the ground. To the left of these rays a misty faded three colored rainbow could be seen. "Those clouds are moving so we've got to hurry." "Give me the film, Barb"
        Barbara opened the knapsack and removed several of the yellow boxes of film as Roger opened the door to the Super-8 camera, brushed out the film gate with a small toothbrush, and then applied some lubricant with his fingertip to the film path. He then screwed on an 81B filter over the lens, which would make the reds in the sky a little more intense, and switched the film speed selector from 24 frames per second to 18 frames per second, which would make the clouds appear moving quicker when projected at the faster speed. A quick check of the f/stop showed 2.8 in the viewfinder as he switched from automatic to manual exposure, setting the dial to overexpose by half a stop, gambling that the dark blue clouds invading from the east would soon reduce the light. One final check to make sure the camera's built-in filter for daylight filming was switched in place and everything seemed ready.
        "Oh that Kodachrome -- it gives such nice bright colors -- gives the greens of summers -- makes you think all the world's a sunny day," Roger was quietly singing as he went about his work.
        "Haven't you heard about video -- or digital?" asked Barbara. "Wouldn't that save a lot of time?"
        "Mama don't take my Kodachrome away," Roger thought, referring back to the Paul Simon song.
        "I suppose if I were a painter you'd probably tell me to put away my canvass and oils and start drawing on a computer. Just like the texture of a painting is actually three dimensional, so is the texture of the silver that captures an image in film. Maybe that's why I like it -- I don't know, but electronic images just seem flat to me and I don't get the same thrill with them as I do with film."
        Suddenly the Super-8 camera started running and the filming had begun. There was no time for conversation or debate now as the sky demanded total concentration. Roger changed the angle and focal length of the lens. Soon the cartridge was discarded and another put in the camera. The rainbow grew stronger and then slowly disappeared. The majestic clouds never ceased their rolling or their breathtaking ability to allow the rays of sunshine to pass from the heavens to the earth. A third and a fourth Super-8 cartridge was used. But then it was over, as the moments of wonder had passed with the clouds, and left nothing but a memory and the wind.

        Two weeks later the film was back from the lab in Switzerland where it had been processed. The projector was threaded, the room lights turned out, and the screen became awash in light and color.
        "It's beautiful. It came out perfect," Barbara said. The screen was reflecting the magnificence of nature at its best, with the deep blue clouds tumbling across the screen, changing the trajectory of the crimson beams which appeared as swords of light piercing through the blue ceiling. Even the few reaction shots Roger had managed to film of the jittery horses trotting across the rich green pasture were stunningly colorful against the sky's performance.
        "What are you going to do with it?" asked Barbara.
        "I don't know yet." "I'm thinking of making some edits and then recording the music of Tchaikovsky over the whole thing. But I don't know. I'll find something to do with it."
        And it really didn't matter. Not now anyway. The beauty of the heavens was truly magical but there was also something magical about the film itself. Perhaps the song was right -- it's the Kodachrome that makes the world look a better place. Or maybe it's just film -- even the small amount of grain caused by the silver crystals embedded in the emulsion mesmerized Roger.
        Yes, Tchaikovsky would make a great soundtrack to this film. But for now even the silent images were a visual feast -- the light and shadows and changing contrast -- the grain and mood and incredible color.
        The film was all that mattered now. It was the film that fascinated Roger. It was life -- better than life maybe -- and it was captured for a lifetime.
        The screen went white as the sound of the tail end of the movie smacked against the revolving take-up reel. Roger rewound the film and threaded it up again. He would watch in fascination once more.

---  Chris Cottrill
        E-mail:  chris_cottrill@yahoo.com
 

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