From Process to Prose: Homicide “The Subway” Documentary Blog Post

The documentary for the episode of Homicide: Life on the Street, The Subway, provides some decent insight into not only how this specific episode’s final cut came to be, but also some insight into the processes a show like this must go through in order to reach an audience.

A poor ratings streak and the competition from Nash Bridges, from what I recall were also in competition in terms of timeslots, coupled with hoops the team often had to jump through to get an idea greenlighted imply a kind of standard that networks like to adhere to so as the draw a sizable, yet also constrain some creativity with a very “become popular or get cancelled” kind of environment, despite noble ambitions from Yoshimura to keep true to a vision.

Because of this, writing can often be very stressing and lengthy, even if the feedback is valuable. It’s evident scripts don’t get approved on the first draft, evident by the amount of feedback annotations from the director, and a firm relationship with talent can make or break a performance, such as with Pembleton’s actor trusting Yoshimura to not write a trite screenplay.

Under the writing team, there was a desire to pose a de-mythification of consumers’ perceptions of detectives from television; a turn away from the emotional responses and intellectual positing of detective tropes, going instead for black humor to provide a closer picture to real detective work and the complexities that make up human life. The de-mythification approach also seems to reveal a criticism of emotional attachment to victims of murder cases, with Pembleton’s getting too attached to the victim under the train, leading to an emotional scarring evident by repeating the victim’s dying words before driving off.

The concern with getting the subway stunt just right illustrates vividly how production is a co-operative effort. From inside the studio with the art director’s feedback on set design for shooting in the subway and Yoshimura’s talk with the executive to get the extras he needs for the stunts, to influences from outside the studio with getting the transit department’s permission to alter the station and be allowed to shoot in the subway itself.

The scope of the locations is limited, with most action relegated to the subway and tertiary plot of searching for the victim’s girlfriend in the surrounding area. Add to this a limit of seven production days and a twelve hour shoot to get the stunt just right, and we have a perfect illustration of how much of a time crunch television production can be, and that you must make decisions on locations that will minimize time wasted.

Pre-production decisions also potentially influence the script, both in the process and outside of it. For instance, the confusion over the quantity and accuracy of witness accounts in the subway wouldn’t make much sense unless you can get the extras to illustrate the point. The concept for the plot itself was inspired by an episode of Taxicab Confessions Yoshimura watched, illustrating that inspiration can even strike from out of left field.

Frame Style Blog Post: The Blues Brothers

The sequence preceding the beginning of the mall chase from The Blues Brothers displays a wide shot of a dimly lit parking lot at night, the titular brothers driving to escape the cop cars pursuing them through winding lanes of occupied parking spaces, which then cuts to a close-up exchange from Jake to Elwood to get them out of said lot, dimly lit on both sides of the face with heavy shadow in the center. Elwood then proclaims he will get them out. We have a set-up of a tense situation, the intensity increased by the close-ups seeming to place us in the car with the brothers.

We suddenly cut to a close-up, shot-reverse shot exchange between a cashier and customer about the quantity of a certain plush toy, a seemingly illogical disruption of the action.

The very next second, a wide shot displays the Bluesmobile crashing through the store wall and shelves, rapid car-level close-ups spliced in as the Bluesmobile speeds into the mall. The same is done for the police cars following in pursuit. The swell of horns come on as the film hits us with a burst of energy.

From here, a few patterns of action and framing are employed here. The general space of cars in motion is established by wide shots, and tighter shots of car passes and crashes into various merchandise and windows are spliced in, sometimes with shaky cam when the action is especially close. Some of the most pronounced destruction is also accompanied by swells in the horn section of the music. The building destruction and prominent horn track in these close-up frames adds a sense of chaos when juxtaposed with the level, observational angles of the movement of cars in space, making it seem real. The key lighting of the drivers and extras in this scene as well as the displaying of real-life store names like Pier 1 Imports and Toys ‘R’ Us also adds a sense of realism to the situation.

Spliced in are close-ups inside or outside the front seats of the cars, depicting the drivers. The shots of Jake and Elwood carry some conversational commentary about the mall displays as they rush by, clashing against the action for a sense of humor. Other shots of this kind, such as the upside-down view of a police car driver overturned in the chase, a camera resting on the hood of a police car tracking another, and the shots from within the driver’s seats appear to grant us a “front-row seat,” treating us as part of the chase and bringing us closer to the action.

This chaos continues until a police car crashes to a halt into a store shelf, pedestrians run across the camera, one running straight into it, and we then cut to a wide shot of the doors of a JCPenny, the Bluesmobile crashing through the glass doors as the horns swell and the music ends with a flourish. The Bluesmobile drives off, as this draws the chase to a close, the soundtrack turning quiet, allowing the aftermath and the audience to breath.

– Collin Gaddie