CELLULOID WARS: The Hidden Costs Of Low-Budget Filmmaking
It's no surprise that there is an interesting behind-the-scenes story for Battle Beyond The Stars. This film was the biggest gamble that Roger Corman took during his New World Pictures era, costing a whopping four million dollars at a time when he usually spent less than a million on each film. It could have tanked his successful indie production/distribution company but he came out on top with a hit that gave the majors a run for the box office money.
However, there was no guarantee the gamble would pay off - and in Celluloid Wars, Allan Holzman's gripping autobiographical account of his time as the editor of Battle Beyond The Stars, we learn how certain doom was narrowly avoided for both the film and himself at several points along the way. Its creation was a perilous, often grueling journey for everyone involved and Celluloid Wars puts all the riveting details on the page.
A brief introduction sets the stage with a thumbnail sketch of Holzman's filmmaking ambitions, which were complicated by his lifelong struggle with stuttering, and how his stabs at breaking in at the Hollywood level led to him editing, which led him to Roger Corman's low-budget film factory. It establishes an authorial voice that is wry but frank about the struggles and the pain inherent to life in the film business.
From there, the first half of Celluloid Wars presents the journals Holzman kept during the production and post-production of Battle Beyond The Stars. Taking the gig was a means to an end - namely, establishing himself as a worthy candidate for directing a New World film - and it truly tests his mettle. Despite the importance of his job, which requires editing scenes as they come in, he has to fight with Corman and his staff to be able to do the work properly. The producer's famous stinginess becomes a running joke as Holzman narrowly escapes being put into a number of inhospitable, sometimes health-endangering locations just to get editing underway.
Holzman comes to discover there are bigger conditions to deal with than a satisfactory workspace. He finds the footage is at the mercy of an animator turned director lacking live action experience, a cinematographer with no VFX experience and VFX artists whose first instinct is to not give FX shots to the editor for fear of them being cut incorrectly.
The editor also finds himself caught between pleasing a hands-on producer in Corman and having to contend with a director who views Corman as competition: there's a memorable moment where Jimmy Murakami, said director, corners Holzman at a party and says that if he doesn't cut the film for him rather than Corman then he'll quit live action and go back to animation for good.
Of course, there are the usual editing hassles to deal with: working around special effects that don't exist, having to breathe life into dramatic beats that have been flatly acted or shot and then reworking all of the above to accommodate the editing wishes (and differing visions) of the director and an outside producer.
Since New World relied on cheap labor, Holzman was also training assistant editors on the job and often having to recut their work while not being able to fire them. There's also the matter of an assistant who utilizes the very political nature of the editing room to move up to a co-editor credit via other patrons on the production. He tries to be a good teacher and supportive crew member along the way: there's a cool anecdote in there about him stepping in on behalf of a novice crew member named James Cameron(!).
The diaries reveal this modestly-budgeted indie shoot was as suspenseful and full of intrigue as the production of any megabucks Hollywood epic you care to mention - and they capture all the twists and turns as well as providing insight into the physical and psychological rigors of trying to create art while walking through professional minefields.
The vivid nature of Holzman's prose and how easily it flows truly impresses, with its quality suggesting it was both a release and a matter of survival to get it all on the page after a tough day in the editing suite. He also creates a number of vivid character portraits for everyone involved, showing both their good and bad. It's also worth noting that he doesn't try to paint himself as perfect: in fact, he's arguably twice as tough on himself for his missteps while handling the daily stresses of the gig.
Holzman also teaches the reader a lot along the way about the tricks of the trade used in editing genre fare. He goes into great detail on specific techniques on everything from how to punch up patchy acting in a dialogue scene to simple tricks that enhance the excitement of action sequences (you'll be amazed how useful flash frames can be). He also goes deep on his philosophy of editing, showing the artistic inspiration that sustained him during a very challenging production.
If that was all Celluloid Wars had to offer, it would make a swell little read for b-movie buffs... but that's just the first half of the book. The second half of the book delivers an array of supplemental material that will please the film's fans. First up is a section that touches on promotional material like appearances in magazines of the day, most notably Starlog and Famous Monsters, plus pictures of memorabilia like the soundtrack album and View Master reels done as a tie-in. You also get photos new and old of the model ships and their interior sets.
Even better, there's a nice surprise in the final pages of Celluloid Wars: Holzman supplies interviews with some key crew members, VFX artists Robert and Dennis Skotak and costume designer Durinda Wood. All three went on to long careers in the film business and this was an important early gig for each one.
The Skotaks' interview goes deep into detail on a variety of effects-related topics: the tempestuous relationship between Corman and VFX supervisor Chuck Comisky (who quit the production more than once), the challenge of designing visual effects for both filmmakers and producers who didn't know how to schedule such effects or stage live action to complement their work and the unexpected appeal of the creative freedom offered in that pressurized situation. Robert Skotak also contributes a set of corrections to Holzman's diaries to clarify exactly what was going on in the FX unit during some stormy moments.
Wood's interview is also a compelling read. After some talk about how costuming was a powerful personal therapy that brought her out of her shell in school, she gets into an interesting stream of commentary about how Corman's film factory would allow new talent to prove itself at a professional level via on-the-job experience. You'll learn a lot about the practical, cost-effective methods used to achieve the futuristic costumes and her experience offers an interesting counterpoint to Holzman's diaries by showing the positive side of working on a New World release.
In short, Celluloid Wars is a gripping read for any fan of Corman's New World productions. Holzman's prose draws you right into the conflict and the pleasure of the read is enhanced by colorful graphic design by Bill Cunningham that makes excellent use of the film's eye-catching visuals to enhance the text. If you've ever wondered what it's like to make a low-budget film or yearn to make one of your own, this book will provide an eye-opening understanding of the blood, sweat and tears it requires.