Filmmaker and Dancer Folu Odimayo’s dreamlike dance short On The Cut of Three is a fascinating exploration of myth and archetype, using movement as a means of exploring an individual’s fate and the threads of control that surround it. The story follows a lone figure known as the Stag who comes into contact with three Birds who control his growth and sense of discovery. What struck me about Odimayo’s short was how subtle and smooth it is; the characters’ interactions flow seamlessly between one another and create this lulling effect which brings you into its mythical sensibility. DN is delighted to premiere On The Cut of Three online today alongside a conversation with Odimayo where he unpacks the thematic prep work he conducts with his dancers, the variety of music that inspired the short’s haunting score, and the use of narration to further immersion.

Take us through the genesis of On The Cut Of Three.

The film came about from an interest to explore creating something that was slightly more long form, as previously my approach to film had been more short video collaging, of various disparate things. The film itself started with an image a friend of mine and DOP of the film Dominic Compton had, of a group of waiters dancing around a space, but with an element of myth to it. Mythology and fantasy being a big interest of mine and aspect of a lot of the choreographic and film work I create, I thought of the three fates, which turned the waiters into tailors, which across the course of two and a half months narrowed down to the story we have here. A film that looks at the nature of the fates and the directional shifts in the short journey of a man who realises that the trajectory of his life is not in his own hands.

What were you researching when it came to mythology for this short?

We had two and a half months of pre-production where a lot of the time was spent with me exploring incarnations of the fates across other mediums such as mythology itself, comics like The Sandman and Rick Riordan’s Percy Jackson Novels. I looked at how they were expressed and tried to find the core elements to them and bring them into dance and movement. I was interested in the idea of the Fates weaving the course of the Stag’s actions and steering him around physically into different moments in his life, rather than them using thread to create a garment or cloth as they have done in previous myths.

A film that looks at the nature of the fates and the directional shifts in the short journey of a man who realises that the trajectory of his life is not in his own hands.

The next layer to the characters was then looking at them more as archetypes than people. Connecting ideas of maiden, mother, crone to the one who cuts the thread, the one who first spins and the one who measures the thread of life. Creating faces to them that would be personal and also detached, such as the Stag which is the animal we gave to the person who is an exemplifier of the Fates’ process. I was interested in the deer as it is both a creature of strength and sensitivity, qualities I was interested in when thinking of a character that experiences the weathering of life and equally fate, in terms of how they navigate these things and deal with the highs, lows and curveballs they throw. But also looking at the idea of fate and destiny being an unavoidable predator or storm.

How did you take these core ideas and concepts and bring them into the work with your dancers?

With these ideas I entered the studio with our cast, Jahmarley Bachelor, Maya Milet and Yen Ching Lin as the Fates and Will Thompson as the Stag. All of whom are close friends of mine who I have known through my training and working as a dancer – the five of us working together at the time as performers within Punchdrunk’s The Burnt City. Our friendship, and similar interests in performance and images, were a huge testament to what we created and the generosity and brilliance they gave in their performances and explorations of the work.

A lot of the studio exploration looked at the constant transformation of relations between the Fates. Predator and Prey, three mothers giving birth to one child, hunter and animal, lovers, siblings. Whilst looking at ways in which we could explore ideas of vulnerability and build an identity within the Stag, creating impressions of the arc of a life in a brief time. We explored this through a variety of theatrical and choreographic tasks, such as the three Fates being fox hunters and the Stag being a fox being chased down. We also explored various bits of choreography I had created, creating the movement in a way in which one might also write a script. Dialling up and down the tones and intensity of the movement to create the light and shade within the way a gesture is expressed. Within this time as well, I also took to narrating the scenes as they went along, which is where the idea of the text in the second act of the film came along. However, the thought to use it within the film did not come along till post-production.

With all of that detailed planning and experimentation in place, how smooth a shoot was it?

When it came to shooting, things were pretty straightforward as we had created the film as you would a piece of dance and theatre, as a set piece, with the only bit that was improvised being the end chase and circling with the Fates. Which was more of a score of ideas mixed with some set choreography and improvised tasks based on the Fates being rabid dogs on a leash. This allowed for more room to play, find different interpretations and also feel more presently connected with the space and characters.

What camera setup did you use to shoot everything with such a subtle smoothness, even during those faster sequences?

We shot the film on a Sony FS7 with a Sigma lens. With DOP Dominic Compton shooting handheld and Lee David Brown on Steadicam, both of whom come from backgrounds in dance and movement, which really helped with their filming approach to capturing the faster paced sections. We wanted to have a slow paced and smooth style of shooting, to create a sense of the inside being a dream-like illusionary world. Whilst for the outside we wanted to create more texture and wildness to the shots, to aid in creating an elemental feeling to the Fates’ movements and also to create a horror movie style chase quality.

Did you jump straight into the edit post-shoot and how did you further refine and hone the piece during that final creative stage?

The post-production process occurred a few months after the initial shooting, as I was performing full time at the time. But it also happened as I needed some space from the work. Before and during the process I had a clear idea of journey and story and created the work in that direction. It took a while to figure out the other feelings and textures that the film also needed and to hone in on more of the story.

We wanted to have a slow paced and smooth style of shooting, to create a sense of the inside being a dream-like illusionary world. Whilst for the outside we wanted to create more texture and wildness to the shots.

The idea of reality shifting and changing by the actions of the Fates was a big influence behind the post-production of the film. Particularly when it came to the edit and sound of the work. I had initially wanted to find a way to intercut the end of the Stag through a dance solo with flashes of cartoons depicting predator and prey relationships, like Tom & Jerry and images of rotting and decay. However, after speaking with Editor Genevieve Reeves, she came up with the idea of using AI software to turn the scenes of the Fates and the Stag into paintings and then intercut these creations with historical paintings of beasts and witches. This helped to create a sense of timelessness and the age of the Fates.

I also wanted to create a feeling of things never completely landing in the edit, within the world. The Stag is never completely allowed to settle, though there are moments of enjoyment and pleasure, they never completely reach their full end before something comes on next. Whilst the moments of panic and pain, occur in brief flashes. Also, using actions of the Fates to initiate the cut and change of scenes, as if they are the ones who dictate what we see and experience as viewers.

What influenced your score? It’s at times gentle but also slightly sinister.

Whilst fleshing out the story in rehearsals with the cast, there were a few sounds and songs I kept coming back to. Camille Saint-Saëns’ The Swan, music from between the 1940s and 60s, such as Strangers in the Night, the sound of ticking clocks and the main theme for The Shining. Working with Composer and Musician Harvey Causon, we wanted to create a score that teetered between horror, nature, melancholy and nostalgia.

Writing has always been a practice as a choreographer as a way to contextualise things and also add another layer to the storytelling.

What drew you to include bird sounds as part of the film’s sound design?

The inclusion of bird sounds came from some writing I had improvised in the rehearsal studio with the cast, which was initially a means to guide scene explorations and tasks; which in post production whilst watching back the rushes, became the base for the narration of the film. The manipulating of bird sounds was interesting as bird song is commonly something that is associated with pleasant and sweet things, and it was interesting to flip this on its head, also looking at how we could shapeshift the sound of the birds, in the same regard as how the Fates change shape in the story. It all helped to play with the idea that the Fates aren’t good or bad, but ever-changing, in the same way aspects of nature sit within this scale and that they themselves are also just a part of the fabrics of nature in myth, primordial beings as it were.

There’s a shift in colour between the locations. What was the decision-making behind that?

For the grade of the film, I worked with Colourist Anibal Castaño, together we wanted to create two separate feelings for our separate locations. The outside, particularly the shots in the third act of the film, being slightly more stark, to represent a more grounded reality, with wintery tones to give it a bit more of a harsh feeling. Whilst the inside had a slight gloss and brighter feeling to it, to make it feel ever slightly like a lulling dream, to pair with the narration and fairytale tone of the inside.

You mentioned the use of narration during the rehearsal period, when did it make its way into the film as a permanent fixture?

Writing has always been a practice as a choreographer as a way to contextualise things and also add another layer to the storytelling. The text came about from our explorations in the studio, it came out as a way to give imagery and things for the cast to tap into and hold onto in the choreographic tasks and improvisations. It progressed into a way to immerse the cast in the world of the film. Whilst I was looking at the rushes of the film, I came back to the narration from some of the rehearsal footage and found that it aligned with the sound world Harvey and I were trying to build. Creating a lulling tone to the opening of the film, and also to play a bit with the ambiguity of where things could be finishing the work.

What’s in store for your filmmaking work in general?

I’m very much still at the beginning of my journey into filmmaking, so I’m looking to explore more and play around with different possibilities. I have a short film commission coming up where I’m looking to explore more world building and play with set and art direction, collaborating with a few friends who worked on On The Cut of Three and new collaborators. I’m also looking at different possibilities within my writing and to play about with script more. As well as more play with developing my theatrical choreographic language. So in all, a whole load of experimenting, play and learning across whatever avenues of filmmaking and all things screen related that may be.

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