Tombstoning
The projectionist had carefully aligned the projection tent and screen scaffold positions as soon as he had arrived. The axis between them was the key to perfect screening. The crew had followed his precise instructions, he had fine-tuned the image, and everything was set to go by 4 p.m. The global launch of the film HUMANITY was at 8 p.m. so he went off to get some early dinner.
When he returned, he sensed something was wrong. What had happened?
Someone had moved the damn screen!
The crew were smoking near the bins. He felt like cursing them aloud from where he was but instead decided to walk over, by which time he had calmed down.
“Excuse me. Were any of you involved in moving the screen?”
The crew looked at each other nervously, and one of them said, “Yes, that guy there,” – he pointed at Sami – “asked us to angle it towards the trees.”
“That guy!” He exploded. “Who the hell is he?”
The crew member replied, “I think he is the local…”
Before he had finished, the projectionist ran towards Sami. While still ten metres away, he shouted, “I am the projectionist. I laid out the location this morning. Did you tell the crew to shift the screen?”
Sami was surprised by his aggressive manner, but responded coolly. “Sorry, did I need to ask you first? I didn’t realize. We need to give the VIPs a good view. Some of them have paid a thousand dollars for a ticket. The screen position needed adjustment.”
Sami backed away to ease tension, but the projectionist stepped forward. “Do you know what will happen now? The projector and screen are misaligned. There will be a tombstone effect. I am not sure if I can correct it. How will your VIPs like that?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean by that.”
“Tombstoning – keystoning – haven’t you heard of that? There’s image distortion…”
“Look, if it’s a technical issue, there’s no point in explaining it to me. There’s nothing I can do about it. You’re the expert here. Can you please fix it?”
The projectionist grumbled and went off to make the necessary adjustments. Sami didn’t like bossing people about; he preferred to work in a harmonious team, but sometimes you had to push a little. Hadn’t the projectionist already returned to his tent and started working on a fix?
Five minutes later, the projector came to life. A huge orange OM symbol filled the screen. It was the first frame of the film, instantly recognizable from the global marketing campaign.
Sami knew that OM was a symbol of infinity and could be expressed in myriad forms, but he had to admit that something was wrong with it. There were hazy areas and its dimensions were distorted.
The projectionist called to him, “See what I mean now?”
“Yes I do. Can we move the projector?”
“No pal, we can’t. All the kit here is set up now. Can we move the screen, or the VIPs?”
“I’m afraid we can’t. The VIPs…”
The projectionist had worked on hundreds of jobs. He was a professional. He said, “Okay, I’ll do my best.”
He reviewed relationships, reprogrammed forms and adjusted parameters using his projection software. The image flashed, shook, stretched and settled. Within half an hour, it was much improved, though still a bit hazy and distorted.
Sami realized that he preferred it like this. If the objective of filmmaking was to bring things to life, was it not more realistic for a cosmic symbol to be at least partly unfathomable?
November 5, 2012 at 4:54 pm
After due process of disambiguation, I conclude that you consider that one object of story-telling being to bring things to life, it is more realistic for a statement to be at least partly unfathomable.
I suppose another objective is to make your readers think. I believe I am beginning to see the light.
[Sami thought] ” . . . If the objective of film-making was to bring things to life, was it not more realistic for a cosmic symbol to be at least partly unfathomable?”
(Same goes for persistence of vision / persistence of social privilege).
November 5, 2012 at 4:59 pm
Thank you, I could not have put it better myself, if I am indeed my self 😉