LM: After doing all those Westerns you filmed THE PARTY; if I recall, there were TV monitors on the set so you could have an instant playback of your shots. Did you find that a help?
BALLARD: Well, it was good because the film depended so much on gags. We only had a forty-page script to begin with. But it meant nothing to me photographically; if I don’t know what I’m shooting, I shouldn’t be shooting. I don’t always go to rushes; I may go the first day, or to see certain things. But first off, it’s not a corrected print, it’s all been run through on one light, and it’s the end of the day—my eyes are tired, and then you have to get into these long discussions with everyone who’s there. They say things like, “What’s wrong with the color?” and you’re looking at an uncorrected print!
LM: Do you prefer working on interiors or exteriors?
BALLARD: I prefer working where I can control things, and you can’t outdoors. Then they want you to do night shots during the daytime while the sun is still moving around; those shots always look bad unless they’re done carefully. But we had great locations on TRUE GRIT, those beautiful aspen trees, with the natural back-lighting. But we got snowed out of Colorado, snowed out of Lone Pine, and ended up working all over. We were lucky in getting the snow we wanted for the last scene, though—we’d tried to time it that way, and sure enough it snowed the night before we were to shoot it. We had luck, but it was all planned out that way.
Gaffer, assistant cameraman, director Henry Hathaway, Ballard, camera operator, and head grip on location for TRUE GRIT (1969).
LM: What about the locations for THE WILD BUNCH?
BALLARD: Sam and I had run everything we could find on Mexico around 1913; we wanted a yellow, dusty feeling. We went down there and everything was green! I was making tests with filters for a week, and finally we got pretty much what we wanted. We had some great stuff in the desert that was cut out. There was a sandstorm where you could hardly see anything—when we cut we had to shout to the actors to find their way back. At the end we had a long dolly shot as they leave the desert. It had rained, and you could see their tracks. I don’t know how much of that is in the final print. Sam and I work very well together. I would go to and from work with him, so we would have that extra time to talk with each other—that kind of thing is very unusual, but I think something comes of that close proximity.
LM: What was your most recent picture?
BALLARD: Well, I started shooting THE HAWAIIANS, but I got sick and was only on it about five weeks. Apparently they’ve given me full credit anyway, which is very nice.
LM: What about television?
BALLARD: I haven’t done any in a while, although I can always do it when I want to. But I don’t want to do a series, I don’t like to get tied down that way. I have to pay for the rest of this house, though, so I may yet be working on one.
LM: Is there one film you’ve done that has given you the most satisfaction?
BALLARD: No, not really. I get certain satisfaction out of all of them, even the bad ones. THE LODGER, AL CAPONE, and THE KILLING were all well-photographed black and white pictures. I liked this little film AN EYE FOR AN EYE; we shot on the same location we’d used for NEVADA SMITH, only NEVADA was shot in the summertime and this was during the winter. I also thought NEVADA SMITH was well-photographed. I just like to work with nice people, pleasant people; I want to contribute to a picture, not just work on it. I’m their man if they want more than a cameraman.
THE FILMS OF LUCIEN BALLARD
Ballard’s first film job was on DANGEROUS CURVES (Paramount, 1929) as a general assistant. For the next four years, he worked his way up the ladder, to become an assistant cameraman, collaborating with such cinematographers as Lee Garmes (on MOROCCO) and Victor Milner. Unfortunately, a complete list of his credits during this period is unavailable, as is a thorough index of the two-reel comedies he filmed for Columbia in the late 1930s, with Charley Chase, the Three Stooges, and others.
THE DEVIL IS A WOMAN—Paramount 1934—Josef von Sternberg
CRIME AND PUNISHMENT—Columbia 1935—Josef von Sternberg
THE KING STEPS OUT—Columbia 1936—Josef von Sternberg
CRAIG’S WIFE—Columbia 1937—Dorothy Arzner
THE DEVIL’S PLAYGROUND—Columbia 1937—Erle C. Kenton
RACKETEERS IN EXILE—Columbia 1937—Erle C. Kenton
I PROMISE TO PAY—Columbia 1937—D. Ross Lederman
VENUS MAKES TROUBLE—Columbia 1937—Gordon Wiles
GIRLS CAN PLAY—Columbia 1937—Lambert Hillycr
LIFE BEGINS WITH LOVE—Columbia 1937—Raymond McCarey
THE SHADOW—Columbia 1938—C. C. Coleman, Jr.
PENITENTIARY—Columbia 1938—John Brahm
THE LONE WOLF IN PARIS—Columbia 1938—Albert S. Rogell
FLIGHT TO FAME—Columbia 1938—C. C. Coleman, Jr.
SQUADRON OF HONOR—Columbia 1938—C. C. Coleman. Jr.
HIGHWAY PATROL—Columbia 1938—C. C. Coleman, Jr.
THUNDERING WEST—Columbia 1939—Sam Nelson
TEXAS STAMPEDE—Columbia 1939—Sam Nelson
LET US LIVE—Columbia 1939—John Brahm
BLIND ALIBI—Columbia 1939—Charles Vidor
COAST GUARD—Columbia 1939—Edward Ludwig
THE VILLAIN STILL PURSUED HER—RKO 1940—Edward F. Cline
THE OUTLAW—RKO 1940—Howard Hawks—Ballard was uncredited for his work on this film, with Gregg Toland; it was not shown until 1943, and not generally released until 1946.
WILD GEESE CALLING—20th Century Fox 1941—John Brahm
WHISPERING GHOSTS—20th Century Fox 1942—Alfred Werker
ORCHESTRA WIVES—20th Century Fox 1942—Archie Mayo and (uncredited) John Brahm
THE UNDYING MONSTER—20th Century Fox 1942—John Brahm
TONIGHT WE RAID CALAIS—20th Century Fox 1943—John Brahm
BOMBER’S MOON—20th Century Fox 1943—Charles Fuhr
HOLY MATRIMONY—20th Century Fox 1943—John Stahl
THE LODGER—20th Century Fox 1944—John Brahm
SWEET AND LOWDOWN—20th Century Fox 1944—Archie Mayo
LAURA—20th Century Fox 1944—Ballard and director Rouben Mamoulian started the film, and were replaced well into shooting by Joseph LaShelle and Otto Preminger.
THIS LOVE OF OURS—Universal 1945—William Dieterle
TEMPTATION—Universal 1946—Irving Pichel
NIGHT SONG—RKO 1947—John Cromwell
BERLIN EXPRESS—RKO 1948—Jacques Tourneur
THE HOUSE ON TELEGRAPH HILL—20th Century Fox 1951—Robert Wise
LET’S MAKE IT LEGAL—20th Century Fox 1951—Richard Sale
FIXED BAYONETS—20th Century Fox 1951—Samuel Fuller
RETURN OF THE TEXAN—20th Century Fox 1952—Delmer Daves
DIPLOMATIC COURIER—20th Century Fox 1952—Henry Hathaway
o. HENRY’S FULL HOUSE—20th Century Fox 1952—Ballard shot the sequence entitled “The Clarion Call,” directed by Henry Hathaway.
DON’T BOTHER TO KNOCK—20th Century Fox 1952—Roy Baker
NIGHT WITHOUT SLEEP—20th Century Fox 1952—Roy Baker
THE DESERT RATS—20th Century Fox 1953—Robert Wise
THE GLORY BRIGADE—20th Century Fox 1953—Robert D. Webb
INFERNO—20th Century Fox 1953—Roy Baker—Color and 3D
NEW FACES—20th Century Fox 1954—Harry Horner—Color, CinemaScope
PRINCE VALIANT—20th Century Fox 1954—Henry Hathaway—Color, CinemaScope
THE RAID—20th Century Fox 1954—Hugo Fre-gonese—Color
WHITE FEATHER—20th Century Fox 1955—Robert D. Webb—Color, CinemaScope
THE MAGNIFICENT MATADOR—20th Century Fox 1955—Budd Boetticher—Color, CinemaScope
SEVEN CITIES OF GOLD—20th Century Fox 1955—Robert D. Webb—Color, CinemaScope
THE KILLER IS LOOSE—UA 1956—Budd Boetticher
THE PROUD ONES—20th Century Fox 1956—Robert D. Webb—Color, CinemaScope
&
nbsp; A KISS BEFORE DYING—UA 1956—Gerd Oswald—Color, CinemaScope
THE KING AND FOUR QUEENS—UA 1957—Raoul Walsh—Color, CinemaScope
BAND OF ANGELS—Warner Brothers 1957—Raoul Walsh—Color
THE UNHOLY WIFE—Universal 1957—John Farrow—Color
I MARRIED A WOMAN—Universal 1958—Hal Kanter
BUCHANAN RIDES ALONE—Columbia 1958—Budd Boetticher—Color
ANNA LUCASTA—Columbia 1958—Arnold Laven
MURDER BY CONTRACT—Columbia 1958—Irving Lerner
CITY OF FEAR—Columbia 1959—Irving Lerner
AL CAPONE—Allied Artists 1959—Richard Wilson
ARRUZA—Ballard worked without billing on Budd Boetticher’s yet unreleased documentary at this time, and over the next few years
THE BRAMBLE BUSH—Warner Brothers 1960—Daniel Petrie—Color
THE RISE AND FALL OF LEGS DIAMOND—Warner Brothers 1960—Budd Boetticher
PAY OR DIE—Allied Artists 1960—Richard Wilson
THE PARENT TRAP—Buena Vista 1961—David Swift -Color
MARINES, LET’S GO—20th Century Fox 1961—Raoul Walsh—Color, CinemaScope
SUSAN SLADE—Warner Brothers 1961—Delmer Daves—Color
RIDE THE HIGH COUNTRY—MGM 1962—Sam Peckinpah—Color, CinemaScope
SIX GUN LAW—Buena Vista 1962—This multi-episode segment of the Walt Disney TV show was released as a feature overseas
WIVES AND LOVERS—MGM 1963—John Rich—Color
THE CARETAKERS—UA 1963—Hall Bartlett
WALL OF NOISE—Warner Brothers 1963—Richard Wilson
TAKE HER—SHE’S MINE—20th Century Fox 1963—Henry Koster—Color, CinemaScope
THE NEW INTERNS—Columbia 1964—John Rich
ROUSTABOUT—Paramount 1964—John Rich—Color, Techniscope
DEAR BRIGITTE—20th Century Fox 1965—Henry Koster—Color, CinemaScope
THE SONS OF KATIE ELDER—Paramount 1965—Henry Hathaway—Color, Panavision
BOEING BOEING—Paramount 1965—John Rich
AN EYE FOR AN EYE—Embassy 1966—Michael Moore -Color
NEVADA SMITH—Paramount 1966—Henry Hathaway -Color, Panavision
HOUR OF THE GUN—UA 1967—John Sturges—Color, Panavision
WILL PENNY—Paramount 1968—Tom Cries—Color, Panavision
THE PARTY—UA 1968—Blake Edwards—Color, Panavision
HOW SWEET IT IS—National General 1968—Jerry Paris—Color, Panavision
THE WILD BUNCH—Warner Brothers 1969—Sam Peckinpah—Color, Panavision
TRUE GRIT—Paramount 1969—Henry Hathaway—Color, Panavision
THE BALLAD OF CABLE HOGUE—Warner Brothers 1970—Sam Peckinpah—Color, Panavision
THE HAWAIIANS—UA 1970—Tom Cries—Bailard had to bow out of production after several weeks; he was replaced by Philip Lathrop; both received billing for their work—Color, Panavision
THAT’S THE WAY IT IS—MGM 1970—Denis Sanders -Color, Panavision
WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH HELEN?—UA 1971—Curtis Harrington—Color
A TIME FOR DYING—Etoile 1971 (made in 1969)—Budd Boetticher—Color
JUNIOR BONNER—Cinerama 1972—Sam Peckinpah -Color, Todd AO-35
THE GETAWAY—National General 1972—Sam Peckinpah—Color
ARRUZA—AVCO Embassy 1972 (filmed over a period of many years)—Budd Boetticher—Color
LADY ICE—National General 1973—Tom Gries-Color
THOMASINE AND BUSHROD—Columbia 1974—Gordon Parks. Jr.—Color
THREE THE HARD WAY—Allied Artists 1974—Gordon Parks, Jr.—Color
BREAKOUT—Columbia 1975—Tom Gries—Color
BREAKHEART PASS—UA 1976—Tom Gries—Color
FROM NOON TILL THREE—UA 1976—Frank D. Gilroy—Color
DRUM—UA 1976—Steve Carver—Color
Conrad Hall lighting Debbie Reynolds for DIVORCE AMERICAN STYLE (1967).
Interview with CONRAD HALL
In a field dominated by men who have been practicing their craft for decades, forty-year-old Conrad Hall has distinguished himself in a comparatively short span of time, becoming one of the most respected contemporary cinematographers.
After achieving success as an independent filmmaker, Hall (the son of Mutiny on the Bounty author James Norman Hall) was forced to start again at the beginning when he wanted to join the trade union. His reward was the opportunity of working with most of the great cameramen in the business. His first solo work was shooting several TV series, where he says he fooled around a lot and got that urge out of his system. By the time he graduated to feature films, he had unusual skill and artistry, which immediately put him in demand. Since that time, he has amassed an impressive list of credits.
Having won an Academy Award for photographing BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID, Hall would now like to turn to directing, if he can clear the necessary obstacles. Until that time, he must be content with his reputation as one of the finest cameramen in the business. He discusses his career articulately, with a keen awareness of exactly what is happening in all departments, and like most of his colleagues, he is candid and forthright.
LM: When did your interest in cinematography develop?
HALL: I’d have to say that the beginning was when I was in college. It came about by accident, and then quickly caught fire. I was a journalism major at the University of Southern California, and I got a D in a course called Creative Writing, and you must get a C to get credit for a course in your major; however, D is a passing grade, and I didn’t feel like taking the course over again, so I changed my major. I picked up the liberal arts and science manual and it says A, Astronomy, B, Biology, C, Cinema . . . Well, I got no further than that. I picked a major, and it said Cinema. I picked it because I felt that it was something new, that had only existed for fifty years, at that time, and if I became interested in it, it would be something that you were on the ground floor of, at the beginning. I had no interest in photography, or anything else; my father was a writer, and I don’t know if I was interested in storytelling or not. But as soon as I took some courses in cinema, I was consumed with doing it, and here I am.
LM: I assume you took film history courses; do you recall being especially impressed with any films you saw?
HALL: Well, we looked at them all. I was very fortunate to be at the cinema department when a man named Slavko Vorkapich was the head of it. He was a very inspirational fellow, insofar as he wasn’t interested in whether you made a living at it, or didn’t make a living at it or anything else like that. He spoke of it as an art, and he imbued that quality in us. He didn’t care about culture, or anything else; he was just interested in film as an art form, and not as a method of recording what he called photoplays. However, we didn’t all agree with that, and we viewed all of the old great filmmakers’ work.
LM: But did any specific ones inspire you to say “I’d like to do that”?
HALL: Not really . . . just the ones that inspire everybody, like CITIZEN KANE; that inspired me, just as it does everybody. There were quite a number of inspirational films, but I don’t remember just which those are. Some of his own pictures inspired me . . . Slavko Vorkapich made MOODS OF THE SEA and FOREST MURMURS, and these visualizations of pieces of music appealed to me very much.
LM: How did you gravitate to photography within the realm of cinema?
HALL: After two years, I graduated from USC, and two classmates and myself had made a picture called SEA THEME, which won first prize in cinematography at the USC international amateur contest, in which they choose ten pictures; we were one of the ten. When we graduated, we thought about making a living at cinema, and so we formed a company, the three of us, and the first thing we did was to cut our class project down to fifteen minutes, and put canned, licensed music (rather than canned unlicensed music) on it, and sold it to television. The man who bought it from us hired us to do other projects, and we started being productive in cinema, doing documentaries, commercials, industrial film
s, whatever we could do.
LM: What was the name of your company?
HALL: Canyon Films. Finally, after a number of years—there were many months when there was nothing doing, and we’d just sit around the office, which was a one-room shack, and throw around ideas for stories. We’d write stories when there was nothing to do; jot down ideas, try to develop them, try to interest people in them, and that kind of thing. And one day we found a short story called “My Brother Down There,” in 1954, and we bought the rights, wrote a script, raised the money, and started production on a feature motion picture. We had all written the script; now it came time to divide the jobs into director, producer, cameraman. So we wrote three names on pieces of paper and threw them in a hat, and I picked cameraman. It meant a lot of money, to get into the union and stuff like that—$1,200 for myself, and I think it was $1,200 for the director, who had to join the Directors Guild. As a result of that picture I got into the union, and it was easier to just follow along as a cameraman than to switch all of a sudden and do something else. That’s how I became involved in this.
LM: How did the film turn out?
HALL: I don’t know . . . it had very lofty ideals, but it didn’t work out financially, and it didn’t work out artistically. It was less than we all wanted. But at the beginning, you’re running a little bit scared, for one thing because you’ve got all this money responsibility—it cost $150,000. We didn’t have enough money to finish it, because actually it was going to be $115,000, and we had to raise another $35,000 to finish it. That put pressures on it that I’m sure hurt the film. We disagreed completely about how to do it, and it broke our company up. But when a guy picks a thing called “Director,” you’ve got to let him do it, you can’t direct by committee. I don’t know . . . I can’t look at it any more. I could at one time. There are pieces of it that I like, little pieces that I like very much. We sold it for $150,000—it cost $150,000—it broke up our company, and it gave us a lot of experience. But I’m sure it would have done better had not the small picture been on the way out at that time. It was released in 1957, and about that time, pictures like BEN HUR were coming in, and the little picture was lost—and television was coming on strong.
The Art of the Cinematographer Page 22