Film School Read Online Free PDF Page B

are all holding our breath.
    Then he breaks into a huge grin. “Naw, that’s not true! You kidding?” he drawls. I laugh. I was hoping for a few jokesters on campus. J.’s comedy is funny and concealing because J. never says a word about his real background, whatever it is. He’s cleverly done his own version of less is more .
    Then it’s my turn. I’m completely straight. With just sixteen of us, we can each spend a few minutes introducing ourselves. I tell people I had been a reporter, I am married, I have three kids, and I’ve hardly done any filmmaking. I add that my total filmmaking experience is making two safety videos for a large agribusiness—a job I stumbled into because I was writing speeches for some executives of the company at the time. I feel more comfortable with the smaller group. I’m still smiling about J.’s shaggy-dog story and compliment him on his great tale.
    The students nod approvingly at my story. There’s a sense of warmth from them.
    But not from FTC. From the first time we meet, he projects an icy chill. Whenever I speak, he stares at me, a frown on his face, his arms folded. By chance, I’m sitting directly across the room from him in our half-circle of chairs. I can hardly see his eyes under his baseball cap as we face each other. As class goes on, I notice that every time I say something or add a comment, FTC rolls his eyes slightly or sighs with what seems to be thinly disguised disdain. I’m wondering what I’m doing wrong. Did FTC read my application essays and find something distasteful? Is he mistaking me for someone else? Did I unwittingly steal his parking spot? Does he hate me because I’ve privately nicknamed him Frayed Trucker’s Cap? He’s not giving the icy vibe to everyone in the class—with some of the women in particular he’s loose and friendly. But with me, he’s like ice.
    As I walk from class, I wonder what set him against me.

2
A Class Act
    The term
film school
can
mean different things at different schools. Some schools offer classes in film production only. Other institutions emphasize film theory or critical studies. Saying “I’m in film school” is therefore about as descriptive as saying “I’m studying the humanities.”
    For example, USC students can get graduate and/or undergraduate degrees in the following categories. All these categories are under the umbrella of the School of Cinematic Arts—USC’s formal name for its film school.
    1: Writing about films and television shows and interactive media. Called Critical Studies. Students learn to dissect films and write critical commentary. They watch films, listen to lectures, write papers. Hundreds of undergrads at USC take this route. A much smaller number of MA and PhD students get their degrees in this field.
    2: Producing. Students study how to produce a film or television show. Budgeting, staffing, selling, industry techniques, and, I would hope, learning which large black automobile to buy should they hit it big.
    3: Animating films and television shows, and game development. Officially called Animation and Digital Arts. Students learn all of the cutting-edge stuff that will make them exceedingly marketable to places like Pixar. A faculty member told me the school has trouble holding students until they complete their degrees because of hiring pressure.
    4: Writing films and television shows. Students learn (and write) what goes on between Fade In on the first page and Fade Out on the last page.
    5: USC now offers something called an Interdivisional Media Arts and Practice degree. It’s a PhD program in which students design their own course of study.
    6: Making films and television shows. This is the production division. Students do everything in the process: write, shoot, record, edit, produce, animate, cast, direct. Here, students can choose to specialize. But everyone has to do every part