THE FASTEST MAN ALIVE
By MICHAEL PERKINS
IF THE SUPREME BEING IS CORRECTLY QUOTED, at the dawn of time, as having proclaimed, “Let There Be Light”, then photographers, since the beginning of their own Creation, have more specifically pleaded, “let there be more light.” Incredible leaps in imaging technology over the last two centuries have taken us from ten-minute daguerreotype exposures to sharp, bright images snapped in thousandths of a second, and still the fight goes on for more light and faster lenses.
Between here and there, a few photographers have made their mark by pushing this envelope a little farther than the rest of us. One of them, however, tore that envelope to shreds, and his achievement in this area has never been surpassed, or even matched, by any of his peers.
That man’s name is Stanley Kubrick.
Before he began his directing career in the early 1950’s, Kubrick had years of experience under his belt as the youngest staff photographer for Look magazine, second only to Life as the premier photo-dominant national news weekly. Years before he wielded a Leica IIIf on that job, he had spent his early childhood learning the ins-and-outs of his own Graflex, one of the monster machines that battle-hardened newspaper photogs lugged to crime scenes and fires (stop the press). By his early ’30’s, Kubrick had amassed a personal collection of lenses and cameras that he would continue to modify and alter for use in his feature films, and by the ’70’s, he was ready to take a giant step attaining a kind of nirvana in the use of available light.
As he prepared to adapt William Thackeray’s novel of 19th karmic komeuppance, Barry Lyndon, to the screen in 1974, Kubrick pondered filming the interior scenes of the story’s powedered-wig salons with no lighting whatever beyond candle power. Now, we’re not talking about the term “candle power” as used to refer to the measurement of light. No, I’m referring here to actual candles, and nothing else. To do so, he would have to have gear that simply did not exist in the gear closets of any major studio…or, in fact, the entire movie industry. To become the fastest man alive, lens-wise, he would have to go shopping at the same place NASA shopped.
Most commercial lenses available at the time opened no wider than around f/1.4, enough to give you and me more than enough light-gathering power for dark times around the house but far too slow to operate without the huge battery of kliegs and floods needed to illuminate a movie set. However, Kubrick had heard that NASA had developed a lens specifically designed to allow the agency to get sharp images on the dark side of the moon, a Zeiss 50mm with a focal length of …gasp…f/0.7. Zeiss made just ten of these mutants. Six went to Houston. Zeiss kept one for a rainy day. And the remaining three were gobbled up by Stanley Kubrick.
Taking the aforementioned benchmark of f/1.4 as the world’s measurement of “man, that’s fast”, opening up to f/0.7 represents a quantum leap of at least two-and-a-half stops of extra light (check my math), allowing Barry Lyndon to be, absolutely, the only feature film in the history of the world to be lit exclusively by ambient light. Of course, it wasn’t all sugar cookies and Kool-Aid, since that also meant working in a range of focus so shallow that only selective parts of actors’ faces were in sharp registration at any given time, giving the players the extra problem of remembering how little their heads could move without screwing up the shot. It was the only thing that could force even more re-takes than Kubrick’s own mania for perfection. We’re not talking a fun shoot here.
The overall, soft, soft, soffffft look of Barry Lyndon is intimate, delicate, and absolutely gorgeous. Practical? Not so much, but for the specific mood of that material, spot on. Critics of the final film either hailed the technique as a new benchmark or sniggered at what they regarded as a showy gimmick. Of course, audiences avoided the film like Jim Carrey fleeing vaccines, so the entire thing stands as a kind of Guiness-book stunt. Faster lenses and films eventually allowed directors much greater freedom, but Uncle Stanley’s claim as fastest gun still stands.
As a strange post-script, several companies have lately made it possible to rent the same kind of hack-hybrid that Kubrick had fashioned to support the Zeiss. The ads suggest that funding such a rental might possibly involve the sale of several of your more expendable internal organs.
Cheap at the price.