John Ottman

BERLIN

Filming on location in different parts of the world is an experience many don't get to have. But if you're in a relationship, the underlying anxiety can take its toll on anyone trying to immerse himself or herself in a mission such as this one. There's no other way to do it than to dive in completely. For me, when taking on the editing and composing, it's like being hired to solve a long math equation. Constant pre-occupation. Waking thoughts and dreams are consumed. In addition to the myriad duties required to pull off the film, there's the other looming task of somehow writing the score. Let's just say that without Lunesta, it may not have been possible. (I should do an endorsement.)

Berlin is like one enormous construction zone. You can't look in any direction without seeing at least a couple cranes. I kept saying, "It's a great place, but it's going to be really nice when it's finished." The blend of history and modern architecture is beautiful and impressive. It's also a relatively inexpensive city. We were initially put up at the Ritz Carlton for 99 euro a night! The people were extremely friendly, although many of them still smoke too much. In my editing room, the portable air conditioners' intake tubes were attached to my window, which overlooked an enclosed courtyard – where, well, lots of smoking breaks took place. They're not big on air conditioning in Europe either. I couldn't stop imagining in the throws of a 1940s summer, heavily clad military personnel traipsing up and down the non-air-conditioned stairwells and not collapsing from the heat. I also thought about this when visiting Versailles in the summer before going to Berlin. All that heavy multi-layered clothing in that hot castle... But I digress...

Dylan takes out his frustration

Among the many great places to eat (of course great German food and that awesome mustard), one place became Dylan Firshein's (my first editing assistant) and my favorite. It was this Italian chain (originating in Berlin) called Vapiano. You choose what you want, walk up to one of the cooks, and they make it in front of you. It was really healthy, and there was something very addicting about it. Then we learned it was really taking off and that they planned to open one in Washington DC. Look for it!

Meeting Tom

Bryan knows that my comfort level in meeting famous people has gotten me in trouble by making some off-the-cuff jokes - like limping up to Kevin Spacey pretending I was Verbal Kint at a cast and crew party. That didn't go over too well with Kevin. I guess I can be like Joe Biden. I get it from my dad, who just has no problem being himself. (And I guess it's why I've always liked Joe.) So Bryan was a little apprehensive that at my first meeting with Tom I was going to have some turrets moment and blurt out some tasteless anecdote. So I promised to act lobotomized. Tom walked in the editing room, and within moments I realized this guy was genuine. He had no phony heirs about him, nor any phony heirs to imply he had no phony heirs. Down to earth, he's a big kid who just loves what he's doing and doesn't seem to ever take it for granted. He'll work himself to near-death to make sure it's the best it can be, loves board games (big plus in my book), he's crazy about his family, brings his mom to the set, and, a bigger plus, knows film scores. We sat on the couch as I hummed four different Williams love themes that all have the same beginning. Then we went on about the brilliance of William's score to Born on the Fourth of July, etc. I have to admit that even for me, meeting someone that famous was weird – maybe it was the security guards outside the door. But the person impresses me far more than fame does. And as the production went on, (ok, dragged on) my admiration just increased. Ever respectful of our internal process, he'd sometimes debate cuts. He listened intently and then would give his point of view. I'd think again about his reasoning and realized he knew what the hell he was talking about. The guy's smart and has that "these aren't the droids you're looking for" ability. Basically he's got a great sense of story, and no ego. It was rarely about his performance and always about telling a good story. ... Plus he laughed at my jokes.

The P51

Speaking of Tom, I diverge from the events just to relay a memorable story:

Tom Cruise shows a photo of his P51
airplane to Mr. and Mrs. Ottman

Early on in the production, my parents came to Berlin and visited the Stauffenberg living room set (actually a real home outside Berlin). Tom's a pilot and vintage plane buff; my dad, a World War II plane fanatic. They got into their plane talk, and Tom whips out a picture of his new P51 fighter plane. After my parents left, he walks up to me and says, "When your parents comes to visit LA, I'm gonna fly your dad in my plane." He looks me in the eye. "I'm serious." He then reminds me a couple more times over the course of the next few days. Months go by and Christmas is approaching. I've long since forgotten about the flying-my-dad-in-Tom's-plane thing. And I assume so has Tom. But, of course, my mom hasn't. She calls me a couple weeks before the holidays, "Johnny – now, remember, Tom told your father he was going to fly him in his plane when we came to LA." UGH. The last thing I wanted to do was remind Tom Cruise of a "promise" he told me five months ago in Berlin. I reluctantly emailed his assistant. Tom was in Telluride during the holidays, but arranged for his other personal pilot to meet my parents at his hangar (a sight to behold – That alone was enough for me). Another assistant gave us a tour of the hangar and the other planes and goodies inside. They proceeded to wheel out the P51, gassed it up, and the pilot flew my dad around for 40 minutes. During the flight my dad told the pilot of a near fatal accident he had witnessed at a Reno air show some 20 years prior. The pilot responded, "That was me." For some reason when my dad gets to that part of telling the story of this whole experience, he chokes up. I told Tom how much this meant to him, to which he replied, "Why else would I have all this stuff? It's to be enjoyed." This experience, among others, spoke volumes about Mr. Cruise for me.

Sync to Playback. Sync What?

Speaking of the living room scene, the script called for a waltz that Stauffenberg and his wife, Nina, would dance to when he returned home from the hospital. Here I'm in Berlin with no music keyboard or synth equipment. But we need this piece of music for playback. Tom, ever the perfectionist, wants to take dance lessons with Clarice van Houten (Nina) and practice to the music in the living room scene so that it's perfect. So whatever they were dancing to needed to be the actual piece in the final film. I had a melody in my head, but I needed a mock-up of it to play on the set. I called my cohort, Lior Rosner. "Lior, I need to hum something to you and have you play it on the piano, record it, and email it to me ASAP!" It was a funny phone call; me humming phrases while Lior played them on his piano. Fortunately it was just a piano piece. He sent the mock-up a day later, along with some of his own embellishments. So for a few days, Tom and Clarice danced to this piece, and a week later, it was played on the set over and over as they shot the dance. Bryan seemed unimpressed with the piece at first, and later I realized he was afraid this was some early indication of the score. So after one of our little talks where I re-assure him that a waltz on a record player was not indicative of the style of score I was going to write and that we were on the same page - he embraced it more. I think there's always that little fear in the back of his head that somehow I'm either lying about having a musical plan that's not goofy, or that I've had a musical lobotomy. Fortunately, I was getting other calls from the set that were enthusiastic endorsements of the piece. The dance was beautiful scene, but many months later we felt the sequence sort of log-jammed the drive of the story, and we cut it out. Never knowing if the scene may be put back in the ever-in-flux film (I often referred to as the "editing merry-go-round"), I recorded the piece with the real orchestra when we recorded the score. This became "The Midnight Waltz" on the album. I was hoping this and other deleted scenes would be included on the DVD, as it's always fascinating to show the film making process. But for now, the little piece exists on its own.

Planes and Soldiers

I remember early on in the production getting second unit footage of Hitler's contingent landing in the Eastern front. It was a surprising orgasm of German fighter planes escorting two larger junkers through the countryside on the way to the runway. It hit me that this was no longer a little independent movie (although it wanted to be), but a film with a scope I hadn't imagined when I read the script. I had assumed that like a cheap Star Trek episode, the external events like planes and tanks would literally be off-screen. The movie wasn't about spectacle. It was about attempting to place the audience in the time period. It was painful cutting down such endlessly breathtaking plane shots to the few that most effectively told the story of Hitler landing. A plane buff watching all that raw footage would feel like I did when Kirk and Scotty flew around the Enterprise for ten minutes in Star Trek: The Motion Picture. But we had a story to tell about conspirators, not the planes they flew in.

The effort in shooting lots of second unit footage in that vein (like hundreds of extras portraying the reserve army, trucks, exterior city shots, etc), really helped illustrate how the reserve army was jerked around as the conspirators attempted the coup of Berlin a couple times. I was also struck at how good the extras were in the film. It's common that extra footage is embarrassing, and it's all you can do to cut around goofy, over-acted moments. But these guys were as authentic as the tanks they rode in on.

Struck by Nighy

Not being able to watch many movies, I was unfamiliar with the actor, Bill Nighy, except that he played the octopus captain in Pirates of the Caribbean. So how could I end up being star struck by an actor I didn't even know? Well, as the editor, I get to sift through the endless hours and hours of actor performances, nuances, lack thereof, etc. It wasn't long before I was in awe of this man. The film was chalked full of amazingly gifted, extremely professional actors – ironically a few from Pirates. But Bill's performance and consummate artistry really struck me. From the ticks he came up as a nervous wreck general to the humanity and vulnerability he exuded, Bill was always spot on. He's also a super gentle, sweet man. One of my delights was during ADR (looping the dialog) and observing Bill's body gyrations as he said his lines in perfect sync and performance. It was sort of like watching C3P0 do ADR. Totally endearing. Had United Artists been able to send DVDs out to the academy members (no one received any customary DVDs for nominations – about that later), I think Bill might have gotten a much-deserved nomination. It was sad to see so many good things about Valkyrie be over-looked because of bad timing and other factors beyond the film's control. Speaking of which...