Summary

This blog was written by Andrew Litten, the director for Belle & Sebastian's music-video-turned-short-film for I Don't Know What You See In Me. In this blog, Andrew shares his insights and experiences in creating the film, discussing the process from the initial concept to the final execution. He delves into the inspiration behind the story, the challenges faced, and the creative decisions made along the way. Through this blog, Andrew provides a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the music video and the artistic choices that brought the vision to life.

Introduction by Andrew Litten

Belle & Sebastian’s music-video-turned-short-film for I Don’t Know What You See In Me taught me so much about trusting my instincts. I completely threw out the rulebook - using the treatment as a starting point and gave myself the opportunity to continue ideating the story long after the project was greenlit. Having the space to write character backstories, study movies, spend time on location, and learn about the art and nuance of figure skating is what made this film what it is. It was through this process that the idea of the bag came into play - something that wasn’t in my initial treatment but became the main event in the figure skater’s story.

Chapter 1: The Brief

In lieu of the typical brief, Belle and Sebastian frontman, Stuart, shared a selfie video of him outlining the ethos behind the song as he walked through his neighborhood park. Stuart explained how the lyrics were inspired by the late iconic figure skater, John Curry. John was the definition of style over technical - choosing to use figure skating as an extension of his emotions. His career was unnecessarily spotted with hardship and adversity over his sexuality, which he faced with perseverance until his last breath. 

Our music video, in its final form, has zero resemblance of Curry and his life, but his story ignited a dialogue about how a character could be confronted into catharsis. In other words, an emotional transformation on screen that pushes against the upbeat sentiments of the track. 

This song is a different sound for them and was their first time working with a songwriter, so I wanted to make something that was a big departure from their previous music videos. It was this mindset that yielded the plastic bag idea; however, a lot happened before arriving at that choice. 

Chapter 2: The Treatment

During the ideating process, I initially started thinking about raw character-study films, such as Rosetta, and how this could translate on the ice. I also looked at a lot of figure skating, and tried to learn as much about the language and culture as possible. With The Swimmer as Stuart’s key reference, the first instinct I had was to make a pretty vast narrative that blended locations and time together. But due to budget parameters, I really challenged myself to make this happen in one place, in real time. It proved to be a great boundary to have in my head with brainstorming, and ended up forcing me into a very simple, powerful narrative about a figure skater hitting rock bottom on the ice, then picking themselves back up (metaphorically).

The bag wasn’t a thing yet, we just knew we wanted to see something profound woven into the story of our character, and ensure it was emblematic of the lyrics' heart-aching message. 

The idea we shared was more so a conversation starter, and an indicator of where we were heading. I got it down to its most stripped down form so that we could breach the conversation with the band, and have tons of room to grow and work together. B&S came back and were down, so we then felt confident to start building out the script and shot list. Looking back, it was incredibly generous of the band to go about the project in this way.

Chapter 3: The Approach:

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I wanted to shoot in LA as myself and the crew live here, but wasn’t sure if we could pull it off. After searching around the globe for figure skaters and rinks that had the right look, my EP at Stink, Ryland Burns, found an ice rink on the outskirts of LA that was perfect. I drove out there solo so I could sit in the space, take photos and think about the story playing out in this immaculately preserved, patina drenched skate rink. 

The whole place feels like it hasn’t been touched since the 80s, dust and all. It felt like the kind of rink a character of ours would have grown up in, and be returning back to. Natural light blew through the windows all day, which our incredible DP, Trevor Wineman, started to look at and conceptualize how we can break the rink up into different pieces of the performance. 

On the drive home, and for a few days after, I began crafting a backstory for our protagonist. Doing this exercise helped me figure out the kind of character who would be found in this space and why. And also keeping in mind the lyrics and tone of the song- I felt like if we were going to go for something darker, it needed to go far down the rabbit hole in order to make the juxtaposition work. Bordering on dark humor.

Chapter 4: The Bag

In the background of this project, I was introduced to the world of Apichatpong Weerasethakul. Somehow I hadn’t seen any of his films, and honestly, I’m glad I waited. Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives hit me like a tidal wave. I love how the topic of death is dealt with in such a matter-of-fact way. When ghosts, or spiritual beings, appear throughout the film, there’s never a “boo!” moment or epic reveal with accompanying suspenseful music- it just happens in a beautifully natural way. Once viewers settle into the style choice, something astounding happens in which your mind begins to fill in the gaps that the story leaves open.

I became infatuated with translating this same holistic philosophy into my own work. And that’s where the bag came into play- I wanted to create a character so uncomfortable, so visually striking, but keep them on screen the whole time, allowing the audience to be forced into confrontation. Searching for meaning that isn’t there, or is, depending on who’s watching.

I re-approached the script through this lens, and that’s when the plastic bag came into focus. I started to think about our skater as someone who was so immensely talented, but was so hard on themselves that they couldn’t see it. Their depression, anxiety, and lack of self-awareness in the way of seeing how beautiful they are. The plastic bag was their rock bottom, and when they pull the bag off of their head, that’s when they finally are able to be reborn, and find a new perspective on life they so desperately needed. 

Chapter 5: Selling The New Idea

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As excited as I was about the revelation of the plastic bag, I was also incredibly nervous to pitch the idea to the band, the label and my collaborators. We were stepping into unknown territory, and I wanted to make sure everyone knew we would handle this idea with care and sensitivity. 

I brought the idea to my team first to see if we could even pull it off. My incredible producer, Sara Clausen, loved the idea but had some questions as to how to pull it off and safely. She brought in an old neighbor of hers who happened to be a legendary Olympic Figure skater and now choreographer, Randy Gardner. Randy had concerns about our skater breathing while performing so I tapped my day-one production designer and problem solving extraordinaire, Evaline Huang. She designed a bag that had a real plastic backing with breathable fabric in the front so our figure skater, Jonathan Cassar, could see and breathe. 

The band were excited about the idea but like others also were concerned. Stuart and I were able to get on zoom, hash out a few ideas that made the bag work better with the song, and that was it. In my experience, having direct communication with the artist while making a music video is paramount- especially when they can’t be on set. Luckily Gabe Spierer, the commissioner at Matador, was incredibly understanding and nurturing throughout this whole process and ensured both the band and our team were well equipped.

Chapter 6: Making It Happen

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Sara (producer) happened to grow up next door to a professional figure skater in Orange County that put us in touch with a remarkable Olympic-pairs skater turned choreographer, Randy Gardner. Randy is a genius at his craft, and an encyclopedia of knowledge. After talking to him about the look and feeling we wanted out of the choreography, he immediately thought of a dear friend, Jonathan Cassar. He’s a US Grand Open Champion figure skater that moves with a balletic style. It meant a lot that he was interested, and understood the challenge. He needed to be able to see and breathe without impairing the on-screen belief that the bag is real. 

We brought a couple early bag tests to rehearsals with Joanthan and Randy as they were beginning to figure out how to make it work. The first layer was getting choreography down that we liked, and most of our practices happened with the bag off. At our final rehearsal, we did a run through all the way with the bag just to be sure, but limited it during prep for safety concerns. 

On the day, we had a great stunt coordinator, Rowbie Orsatti, who worked with Jonathan to make sure the bag was safe to have on for performance takes. Our bag for performance had a fake front, using a see through fabric that had a similar texture and look as plastic. The back of the bag was real, though. 

Also during this time, Trevor (DP) and I brought all kinds of ideas forward that we then incorporated into the script. We ended on a cinematic approach that starts distant and observational. We don’t see Jonathan’s face because he isn’t ready to see himself yet, and our frames are more architecturally motivated. Then, as Jonathan begins to skate on the ice, we start to slowly move toward him- which we decided to achieve using long zoom lenses as an homage to the way competition figure skating is covered on broadcast. 

When we got on set, the plan stayed the same except for a few composition choices, and the speed ramp technique, step printing, which we use in the final act. Ever since seeing in-camera speed ramps in Elephant, I’ve wanted to try it myself on something. Trevor was down and we made sure it was used with delicacy- not as a crutch.

Chapter 7: Reflection

Now that I Don’t Know What You See In Me is out, I couldn’t be happier with the outcome. The project taught me how to trust my instincts and dive into unknown waters. The more uncomfortable the idea, the better. Vulnerability always resonates, and I think it’s why every collaborator saw potential in Jonathan’s performance with the plastic bag. I’m going to be chasing projects like this for the rest of my days.