Everyone is familiar with the basic structure of Storytelling. The basics are as follows: in the first act, you introduce your characters and the basic conflict; in the second act, you complicate the basic conflict with obstacles that your characters must overcome; and the third act provides the solution. Basic plots are complicated with many added elements to make them more interesting, but of course, we always go back to the same, simple, three act structure.
But there are ways of using Editing as a device to enhance Storytelling, and sometimes it requires that we break the traditional three-act structure. While teaching aspiring Travel Journalists to edit short documentaries for the Travel Channel, we hold to a certain method of editing: always open your project with your best shot, followed by a close-up of the lead character's face, followed by a close-up of their hands, followed by a shot over the shoulder, and finally settling into a long shot of the character in action. This serves several purposes, similar to an opening scene of a script.
First of all, it hooks the viewer immediately. If the person who is watching the short documentary sees something that may pique their interest, they will be more likely to stay for the entire documentary. So, in effect, even if you have not created the most earth-shattering short in the world (and it stands to reason that you probably didn't, more times than you did), you have still grabbed the viewer and forced them to pay attention-and that is an achievement.
Now that you have hooked your target, you need to be aggressive in holding their attention, and the way you can do that is to add a voice over on the soundtrack-something that catches them off-guard is ideal.
When Michael Rosenblum, the guru of the Travel Channel, gives his speech about the narration, he emphasizes the hook to the point of absurdity. As an example, when he says the opening line to a short documentary about a Dog and Cat Hospital, he suggests that the first shot would be a puppy carried in a little girl's arms, and the opening voice-over:
"Fluffy was hit by a car...And May DIE!" Michael always makes it a point to add the emphasis on the last three words. Of course, no one with a pulse will change the channel, and even some without pulses will sit up and take notice. How could you not?
So now that you have hooked the viewer, you have to pay them off by providing them with the solution to the inevitable question in their minds, What happened next? As soon as you introduce this question into a viewer's mind, you need to answer it immediately. In the case of the now-comatose Fluffy, the answer which would best hold an audience is to continue the shot along with a voice-over like, "Only one man can save him..." (extra points if you now have a close-up of the little girl's tears starting to stream out)..."this man, Dr. Whatshisname." And of course, the close-up is called for next.
Now, if you have managed to create this kind of an opening, you have successfully hooked the audience who will be riveted with only one question in their collective minds: "Did he save Fluffy's life?" Using this approach, you will find that the viewer will be incapable of tearing himself or herself away, and you have effectively held them for the length of your program. You can then follow up with a series of shots as listed above:
As we said, a close up of the doctor's face, followed by his hands, then over his shoulder, and finally, the wide shot. It is a reverse of how traditional filmmaking is done, but is almost always an effective method of editing a short documentary.
Of course, not everyone will be able to find such a gold mine as Fluffy and Dr. W for their lead characters, and so your project may have very little to go on. But some of the best video projects have been made about people whose lives are inherently very boring.
For example, in the IAFT, one student made a documentary about a woman who sweeps streets for a living. Obviously, no one would find this subject to be a-made-for-TV-Special. But her life was so fascinating, it made for an interesting and engrossing subject. In the short documentary, she was seen at home as well as in the street, surrounded by her family, her many children and grandchildren (she was a single mother) and her street sweeping provided enough to send them through school. The sad but very heartfelt ending was her statement that she was trying to save enough to pay for her funeral.
Another IAFT student chose to do the day-to-day life of a man who rode passengers around all day on a foot-powered bicycle, even though he was 50 years old. His life was nothing to be envious of, as he was racked with joint problems and had difficulty maintaining even his ramshackle tricycle, but he went on and made a good show of it anyway, a prime example of someone making lemonade out of lemons. Compare this man to the many people who are agonizing over losing millions in the stock market, and you suddenly have something new that was unintentional: you have created a world-view, an ironic look at a complex problem from the point of view of someone who's world is confined to the simple act of survival.
Perhaps what added to the project was that it was told straight-forward, without special effects, from a student who regularly employed sophisticated special effects in all his other projects. This simple story, told in a series of shots of the man accomplishing his task the only way he knows how, was told with a voice-over read by a different man who speaks English clearly (but with a similar accent), in order to make him more understandable.
The effective use of the narration was underscored by close-captioning, which added to the significance of this man's life: his work and his actions meant something to someone. The mere fact of having his voice-over accompanied by a lower-third transcript added a monumental feel to the heroic task he accomplishes on a daily basis, and elevates the short documentary into the realm of significance. This short documentary, make by a student in his third semester of the IAFT is significant in presenting a truth about the art of filmmaking: Sometimes the simplest stories are the best ones to tell.