Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
You know, people often ask me why I still bother
with retro technology when the film industry is hurtling forward
at such a rapid pace. We've got a idoing color correction,
virtual sets rendering photorealistic environments in real time, and eight
K cameras so light they can be mounted on drones.
And yet here I am still talking about analog film,
(00:23):
vintage gear, magnetic tape, and tube mics like their sacred relics.
The truth is, retro tech matters to me because it
reminds us what filmmaking is at its core. Strip away
the CGI, the streaming platforms, the massive server farms crunching
real time effects and what do you have? A story,
(00:43):
a vision, a heartbeat. Retro technology brings us back to
that heartbeat. It slows things down, demands intention, and invites imperfection,
and honestly, in a world that's racing toward perfection, imperfection
is where the soul lives. I've worked with some of
the most advanced tools out there, virtual production stages, holograms,
(01:09):
AI audio repair, volume, trick capture, you name it. I
love it all. It's exciting and it opens doors we
could never have imagined even a decade ago. But there's
something about loading a roll of sixteen millimeters film into
a vintage camera, hearing the mechanical click as it starts
to roll, knowing you've got just a few minutes to
(01:30):
get it right. That's irreplaceable. When you work with analog,
every decision counts. You think twice before shouting action. You rehearse,
you like carefully. You become present because you can't fix
it in post the way you can with digital. That
sense of discipline, of commitment, it sharpens your instincts as
(01:52):
a filmmaker. You learn to listen to your gut, to
trust your eye, to respect the process, stop relying on
the machine, and start relying on yourself, your team, and
your creativity. Some of my favorite pieces were shot using gear.
Most young filmmakers today wouldn't even recognize old tape based
(02:14):
audio systems manual Clabbord's film cameras from the seventies and eighties,
not because I was trying to be edgy or different,
but because those tools had a unique energy. There's a
texture to analog that digital still struggles to capture the
grain of the film, the way light reacts to celluloid,
(02:34):
the warmth of analog audio. It feels alive, It feels
like someone was there, feeling something, doing something real. But
this isn't about rejecting the future. In fact, I spend
a lot of time helping build it. I collaborate with
tech companies, speak regularly at places like CERN, and partner
(02:55):
with educational institutions like canad Or College to explore what
story Tells looks like in the next decade. I'm excited
about where we're headed, but I'm also very conscious of
what we're at risk of leaving behind. When I introduce
students or young filmmakers to retro equipment, something changes. They
(03:15):
slow down, they ask different questions, they experiment more, and
most importantly, they feel more connected to the process. Digital
is convenient, Yes it's efficient, but it's also sterile. If
you're not careful, it can detach you from the emotional
core of what you're trying to say. Analog brings that
(03:39):
emotion back into the room. There's also a beautiful honesty
in older gear, no masking, no filters. What you shoot
is what you get, and in that simplicity there's freedom.
You are not overwhelmed by options or endlessly tweaking things.
You're doing the work, you're focusing on the performances, the lighting,
(04:03):
the composition, the things that actually make a film resonate.
One of the most meaningful projects I worked on recently
combined both worlds. We used vintage lenses on modern digital bodies,
recorded sound to analog tape, and then mastered in Dolby ATMOS.
The contrast created something incredibly unique. It wasn't just a
(04:24):
fusion of styles. It was a conversation between generations, between
the old way of doing things and the new, and
the result had depth, warmth, and character you couldn't replicate
by going fully digital or fully analog. I'm not saying
everyone should go out and buy reel to reel or
shoot their next film on expired Kodak stock, but I
(04:46):
do think there's value in understanding those roots, in learning
the principles that guided earlier generations of film makers, because
even as we code our way into the future, those
foundational ideas, intention, patience remain timeless. So yes, retro technology
still matters. It matters in how it grounds us, in
(05:10):
how it shapes our perspective, in how it reminds us
that this craft at its best is about truth, emotion,
and connection. Not just pixels and render times. For me,
it's not about choosing between old and new. It's about
honoring both, using retro tech to bring warmth and humanity
into a future that risks becoming too clinical. That's where
(05:34):
the real magic happens, when you take the tools of
the past and use them to tell the stories of tomorrow.