As an operator, it is clear what your job is. Frame the story, move the camera, understand storytelling through the lens, be a part of the team. Underlying all of that are other concepts that you should start considering, ones that will only make you better. One of the big ones is to think like an editor. Sometimes, doing so can be the difference between being a good operator and being a great operator.

One of the first rules you will need to master as an operator is the line, that magical imaginary line that connects two people in a scene that you cannot cross with the camera or all life as we know it will cease to exist, the universe will implode and time itself will end. I kid of course, but I know directors, DPs, script supervisors and beyond who cannot fathom crossing the line for any reason, and feel it should never be done. I know one director who actually has to maintain the line when shooting people in separate rooms on phone calls (at least as far as which way they are looking) and I always ask him “Do you really think if she looks the other way people aren’t going to know she is still talking to the guy on the other end of the phone?”.

Seriously? 

Primes.

I’m not saying zoom lenses don't have their place, but zoom lenses should be used to tell the story with an in camera zoom. Anything else makes for lazy filmmaking.

By my estimation, stand-ins are both the most underrated and one of the most crucial part of any operator's experience. A great stand-in can save your ass and a poor stand-in can make your job extremely tough. I always try to make it a point to introduce myself to them on day one, and engage them in the process. Their job can be truly tough, as standing still while people look at you is not the easiest thing to do, and the more you let them know how important what they do is (it really is), the more involved they will be. 

Concept shots are larger than normal shots that generally require a bit more planning. They can involve 100s of extras and take days to shoot, but they really aren’t dictated by length, size, scope, or anything else. In my mind, these are shots that simply stand out for their ability to tell a large part of the story and are different from simply master and coverage shots. 

A friend called me a ways back freaked out about his first gig as a B cam operator. After getting off the phone I put this together and sent it. Some things I wish I had known when I first started out but by no means complete.

There are no perfect shots. Forget that idea. There are shots that work and shots that dont but EVERY shot can always be improved on.

If there was one singular idea, one key ingredient to being a great op, one unquestionable skill that anyone wanting to be an operator needs to know, it's this:

Know the story.

You are a storyteller–not a person who points a camera. 

When you are operating, everything is about the frame and the camera movement, all of which are dictated by story. As a result, any body movement required of you to get the shot is going to have to be ‘operated’ out of the shot so that it is not seen.

Don’t judge a book by its cover. All that glitters is not gold. The cowl does not make the monk.

We all grew up hearing these sayings and know what they mean. (Well, not that last one; I looked it up, but I like it.) Don’t judge someone by how they look, judge them by who they are.

The best camera operators are there - listening, offering thoughts, being part of the team - without being flashy or showy. They blend in to the crew in a way that still keeps them present but doesn’t draw attention to themselves.

A few years back, I was working on a show where we had a scene that took place on the top floor of a parking structure. It was the tallest structure in the area and the director picked it because you could see most of the city. I can’t recall why, but we had a little bit of a delay and, as we sat there, I noticed that we were in the flight path of a local airport and planes were flying past us, somewhat low, from left to right every two minutes or so. I sat and watched (you could see the lines of planes extending to the horizon) and realized that every other plane (there must have been two runways) would come through pretty much the exact space every five minutes.

This will be a little esoteric without a specific example, but hopefully the idea comes through. When you are doing a shot that requires a lot of physical movement–handheld, a huge pan on a head where you need to walk around the dolly or sticks, even a steadicam shot–walk through the motions and set yourself up so that you make the hardest part of the shot as easy at it can be.

There’s always a little ballet that happens with most shots and the best way to figure that out is, once you know the shot and without the actors but including any dolly booms or anything that might change your body position, imagine the shot and move through the physical motions that you will have to undertake. This will allow you to see what your body will need to do and to adjust how you are standing, holding the camera, etc. Then, once you think you have a good idea, run the shot.

An example. You are on sticks and a head and you need to do a shot where the camera pans from the 12 o'clock position all the way around to the 9 o'clock position (so 270 degrees or so) and then holds for a nice solid lockoff. One option is to simply walk around the sticks as you pan, but this is going to create all sorts of extra body movement that will translate to the shot itself (or at least that you will have to make sure doesn't translate). So, setting up your body in such a way that you can keep your feet planted is the best way to go. Assuming you have the physical attributes and length needed to pull this off, your best bet is to set your body in the final position and then pan back through the shot and see if you can accomplish it from there. This way, you are straining, and most likely very uncomfortable in your first position, but you will only be there for a second or two at the head of the shot. As the actor walks around the room, you will pan and the shot will only become physically easier as you go, ending in a very easy to maintain position at the end of the shot, where you will be holding a lockoff for 30 seconds.

A similar idea is with a handheld shot. Look at the part of the shot that will be the hardest–holding the camera static for 30 seconds, holding an extreme angle for a long time–and reverse-engineer the rest of the shot from there so you know you are the most comfortable for the toughest part of the shot, thereby setting yourself up for success.

Film sets can run the gamut as far as how crazed they are, but, in the end, especially as the sun is setting, they generally resemble some form of mildly controlled chaos. Everyone has a job to do, everyone’s job is important, many jobs are dependent on other people doing their job first, and, through it all, the clock is always ticking. It's ironic, because, in the end, everyone is trying to achieve the same goal but no one wants to be the one who gets short-changed when it comes to time, so everyone is hustling all the time, interspersed with periods of intense boredom. It's an odd world, that’s for sure.

From the moment I got into the camera department, there was this very clear sense, although never stated, that the sound department and the camera department were at odds with each other. I’ve never understood it, to be honest, and as the film industry evolves and younger members come in, thankfully, it seems to be fading. But there is still a weird animosity that many of us can sense.

I’ve been an A Cam/Steadicam operator for 32 years now, and I can honestly tell you that I’ve done three shots that I am actually proud of (one was a lockoff).

None of them is perfect.

As I’ve grown as an operator (have I?), I have begun to recognize that what you show in the frame is often less important than what you don't show. Sure, you need to visually tell the story, but at the same time, as you are creating shots, you have to remember that this is not only a visual medium, but an audio medium as well, and most importantly... 

YOU DON'T NEED TO SHOW EVERYTHING!

I was working on the movie St Vincent, directed by Ted Melfi, a great director, doing his first feature, which starred Bill Murray and Melissa McCarthy. Ted came to our DP, John Lindley, and I with an idea for the end of the movie. He wanted a shot that started in the dining room–where the characters were all eating–that pulled away from them, pulled back out the front door, went up in the air and ended on a shot of all of Brooklyn.

OK, in reality, sometimes you have to clean the windows. On a car, in a house, in an office setting–you name it. My point is simply, before you clean a window, make sure it needs to be cleaned.

When I was younger I wasn’t very interested in safety. After all, I was 20-something years old, a young up-and-coming (hopefully) Steadicam operator, and I was invincible. We were all that way at some point, right? So, we stepped a little closer to the edge or a few inches towards that fire gag in order to get ‘the shot’–that one moment of cinematic genius that was going to put us on the map and make our careers.