‘Watching’ a movie. Easy for most of us. Not for all.
This past weekend saw my initiation into an entirely new world — that of audio description (AD). And I can tell already that my life will be forever changed.
Under the tutelage of a veteran who has been doing AD for TV, movies, and live performances for decades, I learned the many dos and don’ts of this fascinating skill where in essence I will be helping unsighted people SEE a movie or video with words.
According to 3PlayMedia.com, AD is defined as “the verbal depiction of key visual elements in media and live productions.” It is meant to provide information on visual content that is considered essential to the comprehension of the program. It also describes it as the interspersion of AD snippets within the program’s original audio components, allowing the individual the benefit of the description without sacrificing the information in the existing content. It includes key visual elements such as the action, settings, and scene changes.
AD allows snippets of narration to be interspersed within the natural pauses in dialogue of the original content — all kept concise enough to fit into the allotted time ensuring that they enhance the original piece rather than distract from it. We do this so that the “watcher” can interpret them as any sighted person would. Besides, who would want to rob the listener of suspense or give the plot away? What we see on the screen often lulls us into thinking something completely different than where the characters’ journeys are taking them, so why guess at it?
In reality, what goes on inside our heads when we listen to an audiobook narration or the words we hear when an AD narrator describes what is happening on a given screen is far more fascinating than what we see with our eyes. The AD narrator determines the main components in each scene before offering the commentary. That commentary is there primarily to assist listeners in creating context to the dialogue and sound effects they hear.
Knowing I had been a copywriter for several decades, my coach decided to skip the writing exercise and we plunked ourselves down in front of her big screen TV. We called up a movie on Netflix and turned on the audio description enhancement. Then we discussed what the narrator was pointing out in each scene. She was generally complimentary but indicated a few instances where an opinion was given. A “worried” look. A “stylish” dress. Not much, but certainly interpretations — not what we aim to include in our descriptions.
I walked out of my initial training thinking of what (public domain) movies I might use as marketable samples of my newfound skills. An old mystery rom-com? One with a bit of sex and violence? How about a nature documentary? I had a ton of ideas as I sat on the plane on my way home. All I knew was that things were about to change. In addition to enjoying the hell out of narrating audiobooks, I would now be in the position of entertaining those who can’t see what’s happening in front of them — something most of us take for granted.
As with all I do — writing, narrating books, and now AD — my words and my voice may well live beyond me. And someone, somewhere, may have enjoyed my efforts. It’s a lovely fantasy.