Creative Streams

Celery Anyone? Sounds Good.

By: Anne Schwab

 Who could forget the Chariot Race in the movie Ben Hur? Two hundred hoofs beat down on the hot, dry ground in a grueling race between Charlton Heston and Stephen Boyd. But how did the audio mixers capture the sound as the chariots sped perilously around the track? Along with the snorts of the exhausted horses? The jingle of the metal on their bridles and bits? And the snap of the whips? They didn’t. Foley artists created the sounds in a studio.

As talkie movies hit the stage in the early 1930’s, producing good sound was a challenge to every director. If the sound were off, a reshoot could cost the director tens of thousands of dollars, today, millions. In 1960 after Stanley Kubrick viewed the rushes of the movie Spartacus, he all but panicked. The audio for the slave scene with dozens of agonizing men led down the dirt road in leg irons was unusable. Kubrick began calculating the cost to return to the shoot location in Italy with the rehire of the principal actors and extras. Universal Studios’ sound mixer Jack Foley saved the day—and the budget—with “footsteps” and a key chain!

Jack Foley began his career at Universal as a stuntman and scriptwriter then moved into sound when “talkies” hit the screen. Foley divided his sound treatments into three categories: Footsteps (hence the nickname Foley “walker”), Movement (clothing) and Specifics, all other sounds. His original sounds, as they still do today, either replaced poor quality sound or augmented existing sound for depth and richness.
 

Foley artists, often dancers who understand the relationship between sound and motion, watch a movie many times until they “become” the actors. The subtle sounds are choreographed as they choose from “junk” they’ve collected for their audio qualities. Foley “pits” used for footsteps are 2’x2’ areas filled with sand, gravel, dirt, wood flooring, plywood or marble. The Foley walker first decides on the correct surface then chooses from a selection of perhaps 20 pairs of shoes ranging from Western boots, moccasins, flats, high-heels, wing-tips and loafers. In several Clint Eastwood movies, the Foley walker wore a mid-heeled woman’s shoe that fit the macho man’s footsteps to a “T.” Our Foley lips are sealed, Clint.

 

 

Halved, lightly padded coconut shells created the roar of the horse hoofs in Ben Hur for the softer, distant hoofs, cupped hands on legs covered in thick running pants. Blowing in the Foley artist’s hands produced the tired horse exhales; large, antique keys mimicked the metal sounds of the bridles and bits. A ruler lightly stroking a pad of paper yielded the faint sounds of the whips.

 

 

Thumping a watermelon and hitting a partially frozen chicken (stuffed with bags of uncooked rice) with a rubber mallet resembled body punches. Celery wrapped in a cloth and gently snapped represented breaking bones. In Dr. Zhivago and Rocky IV squeezing a box of corn starch created crunching snow. Who knew!

 

For other good examples of Foley sound, watch—or listen—to Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace. In the marketplace scene, Jar Jar’s long, sloshing tongue sprung out and grabbed some hanging food as the Foley artist mashed her palm into  a ripe orange half. Then flicked a metal Slinky in a box for the metallic zings.

 

 

Melting chopped Jell-O rendered the slimy, gooshy sounds of flung food falling on the floor. In Richard Lester’s 1973, The Three Musketeers, feet traipsing threw the mud and rain were actually fingers “walking” on a roll of soaked toilet paper.

 

 

 

And who can forget the steamy lovemaking scenes between Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke in Nine and ½ Weeks? Yup, the passionate, wet kissing was a Foley artist slobbering into his own hairy forearm.

So look around your house. See if you have “stuff” of a great Foley artist. Soft leather glove for a bird’s flapping wings. Frozen romaine for a cracking jaw. Aluminum sheets for thunder. Balled up audio tape for crunching grass. I think you’ve got the picture, or rather, the sound!