I shook my head in disbelief as I sat in my car, driving home after the shoot wrapped. I replayed the scenario over and over again in my mind.
How could you let that happen?
It was bad; it was one of those on-set nightmare stories you read about in the video production subreddits, but you never think it will happen to you.
But it did.
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A Producer hired me to shoot and edit a promotional video for one of his clients. It was very standard stuff: a one-day shoot consisting of a little bit of doc-style b-roll with a slate of sit-down interviews. Nothing I hadn’t worked on before. And I wouldn’t have to bring any gear. We would be using his. Super convenient.
The Producer wanted two cameras for each interview: one standard medium-shot and one close-up profile shot for the “B” look. However, this was a very, very low budget production so the crew consisted of only two people: 1) Me, and 2) the Producer. And since the Producer wanted the “B” camera to have a slight drift while maintaining a close-up, I had to operate the second camera. The “A” camera would be locked off, sitting right next to the Producer. I chose to run the audio to the “A” camera (insert face palm here).
The Producer and I prepped the interview set first, waiting for the first subject of the morning. However, the schedule changed (as is often the case on projects like this) and our first interview was unable to make the scheduled time. We decided to move on to gather some b-roll so we wouldn’t waste the down time. I pulled each camera off their respective tripods and we ventured outside to gather some b-roll and portrait shots.
When we came back in around lunch time, I mounted each camera, adjusted settings, checked lighting, and re-positioned the boom mic. We were ready for our first interview of the day. The client had scheduled several throughout the afternoon; one right after another; a cattle call of testimonials and corporate talking points. Overall, the day went well and the client was pleased.
At the conclusion of the final interview, we cut each camera and I started wrapping gear while the Producer discussed next steps with the client. I walked over to the “A” camera and that’s when I saw it: the other end of the audio cable dangling freely, hanging off the tripod handle. I discreetly tapped the Producer on the shoulder.
“Did you unplug this already?”
He shook his head “no” and my stomach lurched. I toggled the camera to “Playback” mode and put on the headphones. I scrolled back to the first interview clip and pressed “Play.” What I heard kicked up my anxiety instantly. The speaker sounded thin, distant. The reverb of the room was obvious.
The microphone wasn’t plugged in for any of the afternoon interviews.
All I had was the audio from the on-board camera microphone, which was far less than ideal. Apparently, in my rush to reset for the interviews after gathering b-roll, I forgot to re-seat the audio cable into the “A” camera. And since I was operating the “B” camera, there was no way for me to know… until it was too late.
Now, this story has been sitting in my Drafts folder for months. I didn’t want to hit Publish, thinking that, at best, it would make me look unprofessional; totally incompetent at worst. But neither is true. I’m just human. And I finally decided to open up and share this experience so that if you’re stressing over an on-set mistake you’ve made, you can be assured that you are not alone.
It’s easy for a professionals in any industry to share their success stories, tracing their rise through the corporate ranks, using their own victories to motivate those reading their LinkedIn posts. But when someone makes a mistake (like me) and all you’re reading on social media are “wins” from friends/colleagues, your mistakes are magnified in your own mind, which can send you into a spiral of negativity. But you have to remember when a mistake is made:
You are not alone.
You may be thinking, “No one else has ever screwed up like this!” but you’d be wrong. Rest assured that there are others out there who, despite years of experience, have done something similar.
Then…
Accept responsibility.
So, take ownership of your mistakes. Don’t point the finger at someone else. Don’t blame some extenuating circumstance. It was your responsibility. You should have taken care of it. You didn’t. Raise your hand and accept the blame. Acknowledge the mistake and apologize to everyone who has been impacted. In my case, I immediately went to the Producer and told him what I did. I didn’t try to blame him, “You were sitting right next to the camera. Why didn’t you notice?” I didn’t try to blame the lack of crew, “If you had only hired more people and given me some help…” Nope. That does no good. It was my fault. I was in charge of the gear.
Next…
Get over it as quickly as you can.
Okay, you messed up. At this point, there’s nothing you can do to change what went wrong. As much as I stressed about my mistake after the fact (and I did, a lot), replaying the events over and over again in my head wasn’t going to help me correct the problem. It was done. I couldn’t go back. The quicker you come to terms with that, the quicker you can…
focus on solutions.
In my case, I went back and listened to the audio from both cameras. Camera “B” was closer to each interview subject, so that audio was marginally better. It had the low frequencies I was looking for to help make the voices sound fuller. I mixed that with the audio from the “A” camera and then added as much EQ and filters as I possibly could so that it was presentable.1 But my expertise isn’t in audio. That’s when it becomes necessary to…
enlist others for help.
The mistake may be too big for you to fix on your own. If so, find an expert who can help. In my case, I went to an audio professional so he could evaluate the situation and repair the quality to the best of his ability. I took a lot of what I earned on that particular job and paid him to help fix my mistake. I didn’t mind eating my earnings in that situation because I needed to please both the Producer and his client. It was my mistake and I needed to do whatever I could to make things right.
After all the anxiety, stress, and lack of sleep, I was able to get the audio in good enough shape to please the Producer and, much to my relief, the client never said anything about it after viewing the final video.
But you better believe that I never again ran audio to a camera I wasn’t monitoring.
Of course this incident occurred before the launch of Adobe Podcast, which makes it so much easier to repair audio. If only I had that tool then…
Thanks for this. Now i know one less thing I'll get wrong.