Tag Archives: Lennert Busch

“Rufus – The Real Hawk-Eye”: A Cinematic Stella Artois Promo Short Film Directed By James W. Griffiths (2014)

“Rufus – The Real Hawk Eye” is a Cinematic Stella Artois Promo Short Film featuring Wimbledon Traditions Directed By James W. Griffiths.

Directed by:   James W. Griffiths

Music Composed by:  Lennert Busch

Rufus, The Wimbledon Hawk
Rufus, The Wimbledon Hawk

Stella Artois’ second online film in its “perfectionists” campaign tells the story of Rufus, the Wimbledon hawk, who is used to scare pigeons away from the tennis courts.

‘Rufus – The Real Hawk Eye’ tells the tale of how Wimbledon got rid of their most unwanted visitor to the court, the humble pigeon, which plagued play for years.

In 2000 the pigeons of SW19 met their match in Rufus, the Hawk employed to scare them off. Directed by James Griffths through Indy8, the films introduces the feathered member of Wimbledon security using stunning cinematography and slow motion to capture his beauty and a clever voice over to capture the essence of the birds character. This film was graded by Paul Harrison with Steve Murgatroyd on Flame.

http://www.indy8.com/

Stella Artois Presents Perfectionist at the World's Greatest Events

Rufus - The Real Hawk Eye Cinematic Stella Artois Promo Short Film featuring Wimbledon Directed By James W. Griffiths

 

 

“We Were Wanderers On A Prehistoric Earth”: A Cinematic Poem Short Film Featuring Joseph Conrad Directed By James W. Griffiths (2012)

“We Were Wanderers On A Prehistoric Earth” is a Cinematic Poem Film  shot in Malaysia, with excerpts from Joseph Conrad’s “Heart Of Darkness” narrated by Terry Burns, directed by James W. Griffiths.

Director/Producer/Editor – James W. Griffiths

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Director of Photography – Christopher Moon
Sound Design and Mix – Mauricio d’Orey
Music – Lennert Busch
Narrator – Terry Burns

Narration adapted from excerpts from “Heart of Darkness” by Joseph Conrad (1899).

“The smell of mud, of primeval mud, by Jove! was in my nostrils, the high stillness of primeval forest was before my eyes; there were shiny patches on the black creek. The moon had spread over everything a thin layer of silver—over the rank grass, over the mud, upon the wall of matted vegetation standing higher than the wall of a temple, over the great river I could see through a sombre gap glittering, glittering, as it flowed broadly by without a murmur. All this was great, expectant, mute, while the man jabbered about himself. I wondered whether the stillness on the face of the immensity looking at us two were meant as an appeal or as a menace. What were we who had strayed in here? Could we handle that dumb thing, or would it handle us? I felt how big, how confoundedly big, was that thing that couldn’t talk, and perhaps was deaf as well. What was in there?”

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Website:  http://www.jwgriffiths.com/

 

“A Solitary World”: A Cinematic Poem Short Film Featuring H.G. Wells Directed By James W. Griffiths (2014)

“A Solitary World” is a Cinematic Poem Short Film Featuring excerpts from  H.G. Wells Directed by James W. Griffiths.

Director, Producer, VFX Artist & Colourist:  James W. Griffiths

Director of Photography: Christopher Moon

Editor:  Marianne Kuopanportti

PBS Digital Studios Original Shorts Series Producer:  Matt Vree

Sound Design & Mix:  Mauricio D’Orey

Composer:  Lennert Busch

Narrator:  Terry Burns

Excerpted from the following:

The Time Machine (1895)
The Island of Dr Moreau (1896)
The First Men in the Moon (1901)
In The Days of the Comet (1906)
The World Set Free (1914)

Thanks to A.P. Watt at United Agents on behalf of The Literary Executors of the Estate of H.G. Wells for permission.

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Excerpted text:

A horrible feeling of desolation pinched my heart. I listened rigid but heard nothing but the creep of blood in my ears. Great and shadowy and strange was the world and I drifted solitary through its vast mysteries.

A remote faint question, where I might be, drifted and vanished again in my mind. I found myself standing astonished, my emotions penetrated by something I could not understand.

I felt naked. I felt as perhaps a bird may feel in the clear air knowing the hawk wings above and will swoop.

I began to feel the need of fellowship. I wanted to question, wanted to speak, wanted to relate my experience. What is this spirit in man that urges him forever to depart from happiness, to toil and to place himself in danger?

It was this restlessness, this insecurity perhaps that drove me further and further afield in my exploring expedition. As the hush of the evening crept over the world, the sun touched the mountains and became very swiftly a blazing hemisphere of liquid flame, and sank.

Then, slow and soft and wrapping the world in fold after fold of deepening blue, came the night. And then, the splendor of the sight — in the sky, one bright planet shone kindly and steadily like the face of an old friend. The full temerity of my voyage suddenly came upon me. At last I began to feel the pull of the earth upon my being, drawing me back again to the life that is real, for men.

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