Oscars 2022: Never has a woman won the statuette for cinematography

Cinematography is the last frontier for women in Oscar. After 93 years, and gender acting awards aside, this is the only category in which a woman has never won a statuette.

Hearing this statistic, Ari Wegner, the cinematographer behind the favorite “Attack of the Dogs,” laughed, as if he knew what was to come. “I hope that changes soon,” Wegner said via video call, before quickly adding, “I don’t know who it will be.”

Only 6% of the 250 highest-grossing films in the US last year had a cinematographer., according to an annual report produced by the Center for Women’s Studies in Television and Film at San Diego State University in California.

To date, only one woman has been nominated for an Oscar: Rachel Morrison, for “Mudbound” by Dee Rees, in 2017. Also, a woman has never been nominated for a BAFTA for best cinematography.

All that could soon change, with a series of films featuring women behind the camera vying for the awards. Wegner has won awards from organizations such as the Los Angeles and New York Film Critics Associations, and Claire Mathon (“Spencer”) and Hélène Louvart (“The Lost Daughter”) have also received acclaim.

With the 2022 awards season just around the corner, CNN caught up with these three cinematographers, who shared some of their experience bringing their films to the big screen – and more.

There’s something far scarier about the sound of a person’s footsteps on a ladder than the sound of someone pulling a gun.

Ari Wegner, director of photography

Wegner rose to prominence with independent films like “Lady Macbeth,” “Dressed Up” and “Zola” before his collaboration with Jane Campion on “Attack of the Dogs,” the biggest project of his career to date.

Campion’s adaptation of the Thomas Savage novel – set in the 1920s and which tells the story of cowboy brothers and the repercussions when one of them marries a young widow – was far from straightforward (and that was before Covid-19). impose a four-month production hiatus in 2020).

The story takes place in Montana, in the northwestern United States, but nowadays the site has many more buildings to represent the rugged and vast terrain of history. Campion then thought of Otago, New Zealand, his homeland, which made Wegner have to capture his beauty and hide his identity at the same time. “There are some incredibly impressive landscapes there, but they are very iconic,” said the director of photography.

The location was one of many factors considered during long pre-production. “Jane and I love to plan,” commented Wegner. For a month, the two read the script together, working on a large list of scenes: Wegner with his “small sketches” and Campion with his “beautiful” illustrations, said the director of photography.

Anyone who has seen the film knows how crucial it is to reveal information bit by bit, and therefore establishing precisely what, when and how much to show at any given moment was critical. The result, according to Wegner, is that “pretty much everything you see originated from a scene we drew.”

While the novel and film have often been described as a “new western,” Wegner said the genre was far from what she and the director wanted. “There are cowboys, cows, extensive plains and ranches, but in a way the similarity ends there,” he explained.

Wegner and Campion said that “there was no interest in guns. We don’t think they’re attractive or add anything.” Psychological violence is greater than physical violence, and the character Phil Burbank, played by Benedict Cumberbatch, is its main exponent.

Phil, the ruthless brother of the affable George (Jesse Plemons), torments his new sister-in-law Rose (Kirsten Dunst) and their son Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee) for little-understood reasons. Wegner filmed the Burbank home in the style of a horror movie, wanting to show that “there is something far scarier in the sound of a person’s footsteps on a ladder, of a chair being pushed back, than in the sound of someone pulling a gun”. She can do that, and then some.

Rigorous planning gave way to a more spontaneous approach to filming Phil in his privacy, when he wasn’t being watched, a world away from his public persona. To that end, Wegner turned to a handheld camera to film Cumberbatch, who stayed in character while on set.

“It was me and Phil – because Benedict wasn’t really there,” said Wegner. “That took a bit of negotiation, because you’re in a room with someone who’s not easy going and who probably has a lot on their minds. But that was the energy there.”

“You need to be emotionally involved to anticipate where the camera might go, or just have the patience to sit and listen and watch without moving,” he added.

The film’s queer subtext emerges in these scenes: cracks appear in Phil’s facade, and pent-up emotions spread across Cumberbatch’s face. “Witnessing the dance between Ari and Ben in those moments was breathtaking,” Campion recalled via email. “I believe the cast fully trusted her sensitivity and talent.”

The director knew she wanted a woman for the project. “I know it’s harder for women to have a chance as a DOP (director of photography), even when they have a lot of talent,” Campion said. With a male-dominated cast, she sought “a balance between female and male energies on set.”

Are opportunities behind the lens opening up to women? Wegner described the film industry as “a very slow ship”. “Even if people want it to change quickly, it takes a long time for people to gain experience and be trained,” he explained.

“I really hope that at some point in my life we ​​don’t need to have a list of people on staff with names attached or gender written on the side,” Wegner continued. “It’s going to be like some other industries where you don’t have to specify someone’s gender, because anyone can do that job.”

“In the future, I hope this conversation no longer exists, but we have a lot of work to do before we get to that point,” he added.

It’s more than intimacy. It’s almost interiority

Claire Mathon, sober filmmaker Kristen Stewart

French cinematographer Claire Mathon was behind the camera in two acclaimed films in 2021: “Spencer” by Chilean director Pablo Larrain and “Petite Maman” by her compatriot Celine Sciamma. The latter was not selected by France to compete at the Oscars (although it was present on film critics’ year-end lists), but his majestic work on the stunning and astonishing “Spencer” represents his best chance at an Oscar nomination to date.

Larrain created a fictionalized account of Princess Diana (Kristen Stewart) trying to spend Christmas with the royal family while her marriage is in shambles. In terms of tone, the film is much closer to films like “The Shining” and moves away from more conventional representations of royalty, such as “The Crown.”

Sandringham House, home to the royal festivities, becomes the castle the princess must escape from – and in this case it’s the prince who tries to keep her there. “Larrain has said from the start that it’s a fairy tale turned upside down. It’s the princess who makes the choice not to be a princess anymore,” Mathon explained in an interview last November. “It’s more of a deconstruction than the story itself.”

The inspiration for Stanley Kubrick went beyond “The Shining”, said the director of photography. Mathon and Larrain watched the American adaptations of William Thackeray’s “Barry Lyndon” and Anthony Burgess’s “A Clockwork Orange” as they prepared for filming.

You can see Kubrick’s influence in the formal dinners lit by the glow of candlelight and in the movement of the camera following Diana through the endless corridors of the property, as she seeks a way out of her physical and emotional limits.

Mathon shot on 16mm, and the grain brings energy and crackle even during the film’s few still moments. Larrain’s construction of scene and space “is a far cry from naturalism,” said the director of photography. “It’s a very choreographed film, I think.”

As choreographed as it is, the film never seems to be marked by movement. This is due to the performance of Mathon and Stewart, cinematographer and actress working together, as if they were one. “It was Pablo’s idea, this very, very close proximity,” Mathon said. “It’s more than intimacy. It’s almost interiority”.

Some scenes were improvised, others not, he explained. The method approaches art imitating life, as the paparazzi chased the real Diana, camera in hand.

“I’ve never been this close to an actress with a camera. I was even afraid to touch it,” Mathon said. “But I think her performance played with the camera… It’s one of the themes of the film: (Diana’s) relationship between hiding and shutting herself away, and at the same time being constantly being seen.”

The subversive use of the camera lens was a move that paid off. “At the end of the day, being around Diana is heartfelt and ultimately very simple,” Mathon said.

When the acting is good, it’s much easier to film well

Helene Louvart

Hélène Louvart had over 100 credits to her name before accepting the job on “The Lost Daughter,” Maggie Gyllenhaal’s adaptation of Elena Ferrante’s novel of the same name.

The French cinematographer was familiar with Ferrante’s work, having even filmed episodes of “A Amiga Genial”, HBO’s adaptation of her Neapolitan novels. Gyllenhaal saw the series and some of Louvart’s other films, and liked how she filmed the actors, said the cinematographer. “She wanted to have a kind of freedom, use her intuition and be inventive,” explained Louvart.

Gyllenhaal’s directorial debut moves between two periods in the life of Leda, an academic whose vacation is disrupted by an American family. When the youngest member of the family goes missing and Leda (Olivia Colman) helps find her, she forms a bond with the child’s mother, Nina (Dakota Johnson), which evokes memories of Leda as a young mother (Jessie Buckley). caught between her own children and her burgeoning career.

Covid-19 has radically transformed the film. Originally set in New Jersey, USA, the production moved to Greece and allowed the Mediterranean to seep into the story. Plans to shoot in Super 16mm were scrapped due to logistical issues, and digital ended up being the option.

Louvart said that observing Gyllenhaal’s meticulous rehearsals meant that, in the 28 days of shooting, “we knew perfectly well what we wanted in each scene”.

“We wanted to keep it simple and be close to the character,” he explained, adding that Gyllenhaal wanted the audience to feel like they are with both Ledas.

The spectacle of “A Filha Perdida” is in the performances, and Louvart’s compositions give special focus to the faces. We understand the world through the characteristics of Colman and Buckley: every irritation, every disappointment, every victory, small or large.

Louvart’s lens does the subtle job of capturing similarities and dissonances between Colman and Buckley’s performances, uniting them in a finely crafted diptych painting of a woman who had the gall to want more for herself than society was willing to do. to give.

“The way Gyllenhaal directs these characters is incredible. I learned a lot just watching her direct Olivia and Jessie,” Louvart said.

“When acting is good, it’s much easier to film well,” he added. “Sometimes you just have to be there.”

The cinematographer already has a list of directors with whom she has established long-term relationships. After that first foray, does she see herself working with Gyllenhaal again?

“I was very impressed with her work,” Louvart said. “Cinema is a universal language. I understood her, she understood me. We will definitely continue.”