Like many scientists, I often gnash my teeth at the way our profession is portrayed in science documentaries. Yet at the same time, I have always suspected that it is not as easy as it looks. So it was with genuine curiosity that I accepted a consultancy to help out with Science on Film, a joint project between the Wellcome Trust and the Documentary Filmmakers Group. Science on Film brings together eight practicing scientists with eight young filmmakers, who in pairs are coached through the entire process of creating a short science documentary from initial idea to gala launch screening. The ultimate goal is to teach the participants more about what goes into making a skilled science documentary: the filmmakers will hopefully learn more about how best to portray a complex scientific topic in a fair, balanced, understandable and entertaining way, while the scientists will ideally come away with a better idea of how difficult this balancing act can be.
The course, still ongoing, spans three long weekends and teaches narrative, story research, interview skills, camera work, editing and other technical aspects. And I’ve run a few workshops with them about what science is really like: the processes, the lifestyle, the culture, the history, the myths and realities, the stereotypes – in short, the good, the bad and the ugly. In parallel, listening to the filmmakers’ point of view has been eye-opening. Aspects about science filmmaking that I despise – for example, the tired old narrative formula that BBC Horizon used to employ on every one of its films – were held up by the film tutor as shining examples to be emulated. Yet in listening to the justifications for these points of view, without being entirely converted I at least came away with something to think about.
This past Friday, they all came to my lab to practice filming scientists in their natural habitat. Have you ever tried to fit in eight cameras and affiliated paraphernalia, sixteen filmmakers, one tutor and two assistants into a lab containing only four bays? Come to think of it, have you ever had to pin down eight scientists and make them stay in the same place for more than ten minutes? The filmmaker mob descended just after lunchtime, lugging their cameras, wielding furry-tipped booms and looking around expectantly. The head tutor turned visibly pale when he saw that not a single one of my colleagues was yet in evidence. As tumbleweeds blew through the empty room, I attempted to round up my labmates by mobile phone: tutorials had run over; a train was delayed; a confocal experiment was playing up; our Italian undergradute really just wanted to finish her lunch in a leisurely fashion. I even had to commandeer a reluctant technician from the lab next door to make up the numbers.
But eventually we’d all settled down, each filmmaker pair interviewing and filming its designated scientist. I had had no idea how my colleagues would react to this strange invasion into their precious time, but soon was able to breathe a sigh of relief: real chemistry seemed to be developing and everyone was getting on splendidly. I did overhear a few altercations (“What do you mean, you don’t understand the words ‘apoptosis’ and ‘epithelia’?” the Chinese student demanded. “How else can I explain my project?”) and watched with amusement as one of the crews persuaded a post-doc who works exclusively with cell culture to hold a vial of fruit flies and squint at them down the microscope.
But now I know, at least in part, how some of those irritating scientist cliché memes get transmitted in science documentaries. When there is a camera in front of you begging for something televisual to happen, you can’t really help acting out the part. So it was that I found myself possessed by the Spirit of Channel 4, holding an Eppendorf tube up to the light and sagely inspecting it as I flicked its contents in agonizing slow motion, just as I’ve seen in thousands of canned shots before.
We all know how we’re supposed to act, and remarkably, this is exactly how it unfolds. How many other stereotypes are out of our conscious control?
“What do you mean, you don’t understand the words ‘apoptosis’ and ‘epithelia’?” the Chinese student demanded. “How else can I explain my project?”
Oh, bless. I’m sure she found other words, yes?
(I have no idea what those words mean either.)
I’m a little confused about your role, Jen – you say you “accepted a consultancy” but it sounds as if you mean you’re one of the eight pairs? Does that mean we’re to expect a blockbuster premiere of a film starring you, at a theatre near us soon?
I took the student aside later and explained that the words ‘cell death’ and ‘skin cells’ respectively might have gone over a bit better with a lay audience. As my boss pointed out at last week’s group meeting, this was actually a sterling opportunity for folks to practice explaining their projects in simple terms. I think it’s remarkable how some scientists have little awareness about what words are and are not in the vernacular.
No, I wasn’t one of the pairs, but I was willing to offer my body to science – we needed 8 scientists for the practice, and the lab couldn’t muster the requisite number without me. So for that portion of the course, I was demoted to guinea pig. None of this footage will be aired, though – it was just for practice before they embark on their real films. Thank goodness, because I was so nervous I spilled broth all over my bench and burnt my hand over the Bunsen burner!
(Which, tangentially, has reminded me of Sally Potter’s Yes, but that’s for another discussion )
I was so nervous I spilled broth all over my bench and burnt my hand over the Bunsen burner!
That truly is offering your body to science – owch! You OK?
The wonders of Savlon and Nurofen Plus cannot be overemphasized. Serves me right for behaving like an undergraduate!
(Note to self: don’t use anything dangerous next time the camera crews come to town.)
I don’t know which is worse, that you actually did the eppie slow flick or that you’re admitting here.
Maybe we should have a kind of AA-type thing going on here?
“Hello, my name’s Richard and I’m a media whore”
Hats off to you, Jenny, for doing this. It’s exactly the sort of thing that scientists need to do to understand what media people want. Back in 1992 I did a 3-month traineeship in the science unit of the BBC World Service, and the skills I learned then have been useful ever since (like cutting tape with razor blades – not very useful now it’s all digital, but you get the point). Just this week a film crew came to Cromer (all the way from Australia) to interview me for a documentary they’ve been making about Homo floresiensis. It all went very well, and I’m sure that part of the reason has been that some of the apparently pointless and insane film-makers make you do (walking up and down Cromer Pier with one’s dog, etc) actually do have a point.
I think we need some acronyms here, for the purposes of discussion and general humiliation:
ESF: Eppie Slow Flick
TDW: Thoughtful Dog Walk
My point was that all this happened in a very unconscious way. You’re doing your task and you are hyperaware of this big huge camera hungry for something more interesting than the quick transfer of an invisible amount of clear liquid from one tube to another, and then…it just happens.
(The first step is admitting you have a problem.)
I forgot to ask, Henry, when do we get to see you and the canine in action? How exciting!
Did they bathe the lab in maroon or turquoise light? I’ve never seen a lab on TV that isn’t moodily lit with strange colours.
I did the ESF also! (Coming out, here). Why are most of us so very tongue-tied in front of the cameras? Last year a team came through for a public TV channel and filmed a quite good documentary of the whole process from patient to genetics research to patient in the laboratory – but it was an embarrassment and distraction to us as well, to have a camera during lab meetings, not to mention in lab itself. I also had to pose for a publicity photo in lab coat and with a flask with colored liquid in it. The photographer asked me, can’t you make it colored? and I thought hard and then got some water and dumped in some trypan blue on hand. Darker, please, he asked. So I am in a completely improbable position with an impossible solution in hand; any biologist would snigger. Sigh.
No gels, alas! I was really looking forward to that bit. But apparently that is very last century. :-)
They did get extremely excited by my shaking incubator, however – many close-ups were shot. I hope it doesn’t go to my bacteria’s heads.
Heather, our comments crossed in the post. Yes, I had to work with LB broth because water was a bit too pedestrian. I think colorless solutions present a particular problem for the televisual mandate.
ESFers, unite!
Not sure when the documentary will be shown. Sometime in the summer, I think. When it happens I’ll let you know, and tell you more about my experiences – I’ve signed a document which probably doesn’t oblige me to a certain amount of discretion beforehand, but just in case it does, I probably shouldn’t say any more than that Heidi
acquitted herself very well – quite the furry film star. It helped that the director has a black lab the same age as Heidi (5 months) and is dotty about dogs. Nevertheless, If I’m not careful I think Heidi’ll start demanding gold-plated dog biscuits, her own stylist the services of an agent…
She’s lovely, Henry. And much more interesting than an Eppendorf tube!
I’ve never had the pleasure myself, but I’ve seen a couple of good friends on camera. It was awful for both of them and very entertaining for the rest of us! In one case, we got to question why the on-screen star was pipetting gel loading dye from one eppendorf to another, and she got to tell us to shut up.
Even lab photos follow the standard format. Here’s me on my old lab’s website. I’m sure every lab’s page has a photo like this on it!
Did you wear a superfashion labcoat, or an ordinary one?
And if it is any consolation, I’ve been corralled into improbably photo situations that have nowt to do with science – like clustering around a slightly bent-over son of a vicar use his back to lean on to sign a non-existent petition against the opening of a sex sauna in Edinburgh, which appeared in the local paper one Saturday. The petition was a figment of the photographer’s making, as the said son of a preacher man had a folder on him. We all had to try not to laugh as the woman who organised the photo (and who grabbed me, saying “I need men”) wrote, as we posed, “I feel so stupid right now” on the ‘petition’.
Hey Cath, thanks for the pic with the female scientist on the Scottish banknote – that’s really cool. And loading dye is an absolutely staple; what would TV have done without it?
Scott: access to my normal unfashionable labcoat was blocked by the Japanese postdoc squinting at Drosophila, so I had to make do with a suspiciously stained specimen from the lab next door.
Kate once made a labcoat from brown paper towels for our Christmas review one year. It was part of trying to persuade TPTB that we really needed something more absorbent.
Yes, this is on topic: we filmed it.
Do we really want something absorbent? I think I’d rather have something more repellent.
The paper towels in question — which were intended to be used for, you know, drying things — were probably as hydrophobic as it’s possible to sustain in atmosphere.
Maybe the idea was that they repelled spills/water on hands, rather than soaking it up.
I see a niche in the market for some mol biol company – coloured solutions! Get your Taq in pink, red or green! How about a blue buffer?
Make sure you’re colour coded with your iThermal Cycler.
Oh, the humanity. Bob, don’t give BioRad any more weird marketing ideas! If the high street gets involved, they’ll be making pink solutions for us supposed technophobe females scientists…
I am, however, quite fond of that lovely cherry-red isotope that never freezes…my aged neurons are too aged to remember what it’s called.
Talking of interviews, I noted that Dr Rohn participated in this weeks Guardian Science Weekly podcast
Well worth a listen….
Thanks for the plug, Graham. It was fun – though it was recorded as-live, and I was nervous!
You didn’t sound it, Dr. You came across as quite the professional, to my unskilled ears at least.
There’s a lot of love in this blog. Thanks, Richard. I think I’ll skulk around in here until Henry calms down.
Can I hide out here too?
No, I’m out to get you here, too. :)
Ack!
In the immortal words of Homer Simpson, “He’s omniverous…”
Help! Help! I’m being oppressed!
I’m just a moderate hider. I’m nice really. ;)
Cath, I agreed with all your points. But shall we discuss pink reagents for a while, catch our breath?
Sure!
I remember doing my first ever organic chemistry experiment in secondary school. We got to turn a cold orange liquid into a bubbling green one (or vice versa, it was a long time ago) using all kinds of interconnected glass apparatus and a bunsen burner.
It was the first time we all felt like real scientists. Television has a lot to answer for!
I think you’ve hit on precisely why scientists feel the urge to play for the cameras. Deep down, many of us were all seduced by the same imagery when we were kids, much of it from telly. This is really interesting, and something I want to think more about. Could it be that the stereotypes are just cool?
BUMP
Guardian Science Weekly: Science and Literature Special Monday March 17 2008
CLICK HERE
Quoting directly from this fab podcast…
We discuss science, fiction and lablit with biologist and science writer Dr Jennifer Rohn. Plus, Robin Ince on the relative merits of science and the arts. And, behind the scenes at the IgNobel awards tour
We’re all for blurring the lines between science and the arts, and this week James Randerson and the Science Weekly team discuss science, fiction and ‘lablit’ with our special guest Dr Jennifer Rohn.
Rohn is a cell biologist at University College London, and also a prolific science writer, as well as the founding editor of LabLit.com. She claims there’s a void in literature — only around one hundred novels have ever been written that contain realistic scientists plying their trade as part of the plot. Can you suggest any examples of real science in fiction (as opposed to science fiction)?
Continuing this theme, comedian Robin Ince gives us his take on CP Snow’s famous lament about the ‘Two Cultures’ and weighs up the relative merits of science and the arts in this week’s Thought for the Pod.
Also in the show, Ian Sample goes backstage at this year’s IgNobel awards tour, and finds out about the safety of sword swallowing; the links between country music and suicide; and scrotal asymmetry. (Click here , by the way, to go into our archive and hear about necrophiliac homosexual ducks.)
Meanwhile, Nell Boase fills us in on the etymology of the word ‘butterfly’ — do you know any better about the origins of the word? — and there’s plenty of talk about robots frozen in space pygmies and a potentially lifesaving water bottle
Click here to post your comments on the blog.
Oh yes. I thought Jenny was most restrained when asked about Robin Ince. I’d have said something rude – and then regretted it, because he was obviously out to provoke a reaction.
‘The arts’ remind us that we’re human. ‘S important.
I think it’s fashionable to divide people into groups. I always try not to, but I’m only human. Ince did have a few good points but his delivery was a bit brash and I didn’t agree with everything he said. Unfortunately, I can’t remember exactly what he said now, so don’t quote me.
Has anyone else here read The Two Cultures? Snow wasn’t just interested in the intellectual sphere, where university types complain about how The Other Side don’t understand us. His focus was more on administration and policy, where an understanding of science and the process of science might be of some real use.
That’s interesting, Bob. I purchased the book recently but it’s underneath a pile of books and manuscripts that have to take precedence. Story of my life.
Did he propose any decent solutions to the perceived problem?
IIRC, just the obvious of better education for all.
I should re-read it too.
I was quite intrigues by Ian Sample’s take on science communication. He seemed to find it almost morally offensive, the idea that scientists should want non-scientists to be more interested in/know more about science. When I was growing up we were always being encouraged to learn more about literature and art (no great hardship to me, obviously!), and I’m not sure if wanting people to more informed about science is any more or less objectionable.
I’ve read it (The Two Cultures)—one of the aspects of being very old. It was very influential in British science for many years, eg Peter Medawar. Don’t know if it quite “travelled”, though.
Has anyone read Arrowsmith by Upton Sinclair (author of “Oil”, recently made into an Oscar-winning movie)? That is a prescient book about different types of scientific research, idealism and disillusion.
Maxine, are you referring to Sinclair Lewis? Or have both authors penned a science-related book by the same name?
‘Arrowmith’ (by S.L.) is one of the classic novels on the LabLit List that I have unfortunately not have time to delve into yet.
Do you think ‘The Two Cultures’ still has influence – or indeed relevance? The name, at least, has passed into the sci-comm vernacular.
From Wikipedia, amusingly:
“[Upton] Sinclair created a socialist commune, named Helicon Hall Colony, in 1906 with proceeds from his novel The Jungle. One of those who joined was the novelist and playwright Sinclair Lewis, who worked there as a janitor.”
I read Arrowsmith about 20 years ago, but I still remember the very realistic picture of science and medicine – at least as I imagined they would look like in the beginning of the century. Part of the reason is the big help Lewis received from Paul H. DeKruif, bacteriologist and author of The Microbe Hunter.
Microbe Hunter (1926) has apparently inspired many people to become scientists, including the Nobel Price winners Joshua Lederberg, Gertrude Belle Elion and Paul Berg. My wife (a microbiologist) of course has read the book, but now I’m interested as well.
I think the role of popular science books in inspiring future scientists is often overlooked. Thanks for that tip, Martin – I had no idea Arrowsmith had a real-life muse. I really need to catch up on my reading!
Gee, it was only 8 pm when I made that comment above, why was my brain so tired? Which one of them wrote the book about the meat industry? Oh, Upton Sinclair, I see. I think I’d better apply for a job as a janitor too, though not his.
There was a period at Nature in the 1980s when so many (submitted) articles began with the “Two Cultures” allusion, it became quite a cliche—but from memory they tended to be by UK authors. I am not sure that CP Snow travelled to the USA.
I also don’t think that C P Snow’s “Two Cultures” influenced Rothschild (UK) or Vannevar Bush (US), who created two cultures within the one culture of science, via their “dual support” proposals for government-funded science research.
Vannevar Bush’s shadow is indeed long in the States – and I hadn’t heard of Snow til I moved here in the 90’s. I love the thought of research articles to Nature citing Snow – they don’t make ‘em like they used to, eh?
CP Snow certainly traveled over to my American English teacher mother and engineer father’s bookshelf. They did divorce, though, at which point it remained untouched for a couple of decades more with my mother. There is some sort of parable in there.
That EMBO J article to which I don’t remember who referred, certainly cites a lot of literary references, if that’s what you’re looking for.
Bob, you’re way behind! Purple and green . (Also, radioactive nucleotides are often sold colored, to help locate aerosol spills.)
Interesting, Heather. I lived in a strictly One Culture American household (Art), unless you count the subscription to Fantasy & Science Fiction magazine and the Friday nights with pizza in front of the TV watching Space:1999 and Star Trek.
Somehow, I’ve ended up on the local news twice. In both times, I laugh and shook my head at the poor film crew who really was intimidated by the lab. The first instance was when I was a student working for the summer in a water testing lab. It just happened be the summer where there was a VERY large outbreak of E.coli 0157:H7 in a small Ontario town, and nearly everyone was concerned about the state of our water. Thankfully, I was able to hide behind the water filtration unit for much of the day, and so the only footage they had was of my hands.
The next time was when I was working as a part-time assistant in a pathogenesis lab. The prof I worked for was rather well known in the local infectious disease world, and so the local TV crew came to ask him about global warming (This was before it was a really hot topic) and how it would affect the prevalence of tropical diseases in Canada. They had us pose looking at bacterial plates, acting like we were talking about them, for about 20 minutes. Really, we discussed his daughter’s basketball skills and his plans for her to become a basketball star rather than a scientist :)
And of course, although I’ve never been on camera there, I’ll never forget working in a Level 3 Biosafety lab with a window to the main hallway. We had to keep a window in the lab so that we could see in if there was any major problem. Of course, this hallway was fairly busy, and I can’t count the number of times I’d be gowned up in a Tyvek suit complete with a respirator, elbow deep in Burkholderia pseudomallei culture, and someone would be waving at me and grinning like an idiot. My response was to walk over and lower the blind, while waving back. At least that wasn’t filmed :)
Hi Kyrsten, thanks for the nice stories. It might be fun to get together every scientist who’s ever been filmed and make a really contrived film about people filming scientists!
As I’ve said somewhere else recently, the back of my head appears in a ‘Time Team’ episode. The funny thing is that the graphics people were down the pub when the shot was made, so I was told to sit in front of one of the Macs to fill in for one of them. I was supposed to be extracting DNA from a Stone Age tooth.
What a great story! Did your head convey the necessary gravitas?
It was in shot for about 300 milliseconds. I tend to think it carried it off well.
Memo to self: Keep tube of green (and red and blue) fluorescent protein in the freezer in case the media come knocking…
Ha! I gave the film crew the chance to look at some GFP-labeled organisms and they were like, please, that is so last century.
I guess loading dye is like the little black number: elegant and timeless.
But I’ve got red as well! That usually gets even the jaundiced interested. And to be fair, the isolated purified protein is /very/ green (or red).
Red…difficult to pull off with my skin-tone…
hmmm… GM (xFP) blusher, lip gloss, etc….
Brilliant! We’ll make a killing…hmmm
I think we should target the goth/emo market first.
Um, guys…don’t give up the day job.
Hey Cameron – do your experimental models ever talk back to you?
I’ve got an electroporation wand, Grant, and I know how to use it.
Charging to six hundred…
/me checks flight times.
OK. If you think you’re hard enough.