Everyone Needs An Editor

Walter Murch’s theories of editing say that cutting works because of the way that the brain is set up to receive information from the eye. As in the title of his book In The Blink Of An Eye, humans already have a system of editing to compose our thoughts and to receive the concepts imparted to us from others; it is the act of blinking. 

Blinking isn’t just a mechanism for clearing our eyes of dust and other small matter that lands on the lens of our eyes, it’s a biological way to show our understanding of an idea being presented to us. Murch says we blink at the same exact logical endpoint where a cut would be if our conversations were being filmed.

I love Murch’s idea that the reason we don’t always feel comfortable with certain people (like politicians and bad actors) is they don’t blink right. They blink at the wrong times and at the wrong things. Subconsciously, we pick that up, and something feels off, and we don’t enjoy the interaction because we can’t give of ourselves appropriately to someone who won’t take in what we are giving to them. 

This is just like film editing. If the pace and rhythm of the cuts are not at the right place (for at least the majority of the film) the audience becomes uneasy, if only subconsciously, and is actually prevented from having the appropriate response hoped for by the filmmakers. 

That’s a shame, because much like in life when we first meet people, films should be greeted with goodwill and graciousness, but if our new acquaintance doesn’t give the effort back to us we give to him, we will soon disengage, and the potential relationship will be nipped in the bud before it’s had a chance to develop and bear fruit! 

I’ve definitely done this in my own life, when I’ve been too busy to connect with people that it would have been in my best interest to become friends with, for the simple selfish excuse that I was too busy to give them the time they deserved. If a film is too “busy” to connect with its audience, then it has failed on the most basic level. It’s better to slow down and take our time in our interactions with others, as well as during editing. 

We need time to be surprised, by people, by the footage, and by potential cuts. We need time to be surprised by joy. The cut can provide us this joy. I liken it to the guided visions that shamans, prophets, and holy people relate. In many of these visions, a messenger from God, or less frequently, one of the gods themselves takes the seer up to a high place and begins to show them what they need to see, either personally, or for their community. 

The editor is like the vision guide. She says “look!” And the audience can only see what she shows them. Once the audience understands what they need to know, the editor says “look!” again, and the scene of the vision changes. In all actuality, when we see films we are seeing a vision projected for us by those who know the past, present, and future of the story, or the world we’ve entered. As such, they have a sacred responsibility to show us only what will help us, and help us to help others. My main point is I think I might need to start taking editing a little more seriously. 

What I love most about Walter Murch is that he not just a great editor; he’s a philosopher, too. I think everyone should be so clear thinking and logical when it comes to their work. I think too many people don’t follow through (or in Murch’s case, back?) with their beliefs to find the real core of what and why they are doing what they are doing, whether that’s in regard to relationships, jobs, or their beliefs. Murch does, and it’s inspiring. When you drill down below the surface of things, you always hit gold, and find more questions that compel you to keep digging. 

I love how Murch stands up to edit. If editing is an art, it makes sense to stand up. Is standing up to edit essential? I don’t think so, and we probably have good evidence to back that up, but as a signal to yourself that you are here to work, just like the dancer, or the carpenter, I think it works beautifully. His theory makes me want to stand up when I’m writing, even though sitting down is pretty great.... 

The main thing I take from Murch’s theories is that whatever you are engaged in, you have to constantly be thinking how you can improve in it, and how to avoid becoming complacent. Editing is an art form, it’s not just piecework. You don’t just learn a bunch of rules and procedures from the old guys, and call it a day, you take what they’ve discovered and you build on it. You don’t worship John Lennon by getting an old fashioned haircut and memorizing all his songs, you worship him by starting a band, and transcending his influence, just like he did. This is hard to do. That’s why most people don’t do it, or don’t do it very well, but that’s the challenge we face, and the example all our favorite artists have given us. 

It’s interesting to me that even someone as accomplished as Murch talks about what he would like to happen in an ideal world. He would do his first cut, and then review all the dailies from scratch to get a fresh perspective on the material. This isn’t possible because of the pace of the schedule of films in our day. I guess no matter what level of accomplishment or skill we have, we will always have our work cut out for us.