Conrad Hall
Cinematic brilliance can be defined in many ways. Some filmmakers, like Hitchcock or Kubrick, are obsessive planners who create meticulous blueprints in their minds. Others prefer more organic methods -- cutting loose with the camera in an attempt to catch lightning in a bottle, whether it be an actor's spontaneous gesture, a sudden reflection of the light, or the inexplicable poetry of a single moment in time. Throughout his brilliant career behind the camera, Conrad Hall, ASC, had a keen eye for what he called "the happy accident, the magic moment." Like a dowser seeking water, Hall used his camera as a divining rod, following his instincts toward an existential font of imagery. His willingness to take risks resulted in a rich cornucopia of cinematic triumphs, an aesthetic legacy that earned him the unflagging admiration of both his peers and film lovers the world over. Hall's greatest images are both timeless and sublime: a cascade of reflected raindrops that mimic tears on a killer's dispassionate countenance (In Cold Blood); the mirror image of a chain gang, trapped in the sunglasses of an impassive prison guard (Cool Hand Luke); a faceless, horsebound posse in relentless pursuit of two mythical outlaws (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid); a solitary, backlit figure entering the cavernlike tavern that symbolizes his spiritual defeat (Fat City); the Bosch-like decimation of Hollywood Boulevard (The Day of the Locust). The list is endless, indicative of a mastery that seemed to grow stronger with each picture. After completing the beautifully crafted Searching for Bobby Fischer, a film that embodies both the wonders and terrors of childhood, Hall mused, "I'm looking for the accident, the joyous happenstance that comes with filmmaking, rather than going through some tortured manufacturing of the image." That philosophy guided Hall throughout his earliest days behind the camera. During his college years at the University of Southern