In this session, I will discuss the three most important lines necessary for storyboarding.
When I talk about the three lines, the most crucial one is the eye level, as you can see right now.
This line here, the one that's present here, is what we call the eye level. Next, there is the path line. If you look here, you can see this line extending from the vanishing point—that's the path line. Finally, the most essential yet complicated, the one where people often get stuck and struggle, is the image line.
Eye level is often referred to as camera position, but I think it's faster to understand it as eye height.
As the camera height increases, the angle becomes more of a top-down view, and as it decreases, it's more of a bottom-up view.
Then, regarding the path line, I'd like to say that the vanishing points that emerge from it represent the camera's position.
The vanishing points appear where the camera is placed.
But when there's one vanishing point, the situation is like this, and when there are two or three, the position of the vanishing points will be adjusted accordingly. It might be easier to understand if you think of it this way.
And the image line, I'll show and explain it to you in detail separately.
I've prepared an example here, with the line flowing between characters A and B.
This is the image line. You might simply think of it as the line of sight.
Thinking of it as A and B's line of sight may help you understand it more quickly.
From my experience and others who storyboard, mistakes are often made in handling the line of sight, and it's a common area of difficulty.
If you look now, you can see the cameras are positioned along this image line in one direction.
Here is the basic camera placement.
From this point, many variations arise, changing the camera positions.
But they do not cross this line.
I'll explain why, but you can see the picture captured by camera one.
It captures over someone's shoulder, like this, which is what we call an over-the-shoulder shot.
And the shot from camera two looks like this. You'll notice a common theme even as the angle changes—the characters' positions don't change. Here's shot three from camera three, maintaining the position inside.
In shot four, a close-up is taken from the inside, with the left looking to the right.
Lastly, A, being shorter, looks up, but still from right to left.
This consistency in position and presentation remains constant.
Even if a shot is taken head-on, those viewing the sequence of shots can maintain the original position the characters were in relation to each other.
The reason we maintain this is because if we cross the line and take an angle from a different position, say shot number six here, it would look like this, with the positions switched.
Suddenly the character on the left jumps to the right.
This causes confusion, as if the character has leaped to the other side.
This break in continuity can confuse the audience.
And that confusion breaks the immersion.
So, it's a sort of rule we create to maintain continuity.
In the case of live-action films, it's easier to recognize characters immediately, so occasionally the line is crossed.
Audiences have become sophisticated enough that such changes usually don't confuse them.
The audience's discerning eye has reached a level where they can handle these changes without confusion.
However, in animation, since it's all drawings, a sudden change in position can be disorienting.
It can be hard to recognize it's the same character, as different artists can introduce subtle changes in the drawings.
And with colors and shading adding meaning to the pictures, any sudden change in position or perspective can cause significant confusion.
That's why it's crucial to maintain the image line.
You should understand and be able to use the image line effectively, so if you have to break it for directorial reasons, you know why it's necessary.
You should be aware of the reason behind such a decision, to achieve a specific effect.
This is for the sake of preserving the storytelling impact, which can be leveraged if done with purpose.
Without understanding this, the audience can become confused.
This principle applies to a basic two-shot, but storyboarding often involves more than two characters.
This can be challenging, especially for those new to storyboarding.
Let's take a shot with several characters as an example.
Imagine a shot with one person at the top, one in front, and so on, with characters A, B, C, D, E - five characters in total.
We start with what's called a master shot, which allows us to understand everyone's position at a glance.
We usually begin with such a shot. Suppose person A is the speaker, and the conversation is directed more at one individual rather than the group. Then the image line would form like this, and the cameras would be positioned on either side accordingly.
If we decide the camera should be on this side, the next shot will target and connect to the positions of the cameras in front.
If B is the focus, then B is here, and A is positioned like this.
C might be seen on this side, giving us a future perspective, let's enlarge this.
If the composition doesn't seem right, we can adjust it so everyone is visible.
So, A and B are positioned here, discussing, and if character D from behind suddenly joins the conversation,
D's voice comes from off-screen, causing A and B to turn around, and this changes the image line.
It could shift like this, which we could show with another master shot or utilize the same shot differently.
By maintaining the composition while moving to the back, we could transition smoothly. Or, by using a wider shot, we could make the transition even more seamless.
If we bring the background forward, A could be placed in front like this,
And D could be positioned inside, in this configuration. This makes everyone's position clear, and the next shot could be
A close-up from behind or another angle, but maintaining the shot from behind is good for continuity. Alternatively, a shot from the front could work as well,
Or we could work with a bird's-eye view similar to the master shot.
We could capture expressions from an angle that shows A positioned inside like this,
With D, E, A, and C also visible inside. This way, even with many characters, you can maintain the image line without breaking it and compose your shots accordingly.
So, starting with the master shot, where everyone is pinpointed and their positions are known, the initial image line is established and the conversation progresses from there. When the focus shifts to another character and a new image line needs to be constructed, it can be done through the master shot by highlighting the change of focus.
Alternatively, after a shift in atmosphere, the scene can transition, or the eye-line can be adjusted to suit the position before composing the shot, allowing for a smooth flow of scenes.
The eye-level I'm about to show you is commonly presented for easier understanding. Eye-level means that a constant height is established. Everything that aligns with this height will be at the same level, indicating that all elements share the same key height.
Let me illustrate the space where the characters are standing.
Here would be the floor, right?
And here are the walls, and this way the ceiling.
So this part would be the ceiling plane.
Let's assume there's a column next to this character.
If the characters are of the same size, then columns of the same size and height will appear next to them.
Similarly for this character, space, width, and size are essential for constructing the stage, representing the most fundamental rules.
This concept of eye-level, which is the horizon line, is something you're probably familiar with.
It's a rule that allows for the perception of depth, a line used for measurement to create a three-dimensional effect.
But as I explained earlier, the eye-level I'm referring to is not where you're looking from, but where you're looking at.
So this kind of screen is what we're talking about.
Some people get confused with this concept, thinking it's the perspective of looking up.
Typically, when you're asked to find the eye-level in a scene, you look for where the character is gazing upwards.
So the character would be looking up like this, and this line they're looking at, some people mistakenly think of it as the eye-level.
But as mentioned before, eye-level isn't about where the gaze is directed, but from where the gaze originates – it's about the viewer's eye height, which is outside the screen, not within it.
To put it simply, eye-level can be thought of as a collection of vanishing points that create a line, which might help understand the concept more quickly.
I explain it this way to juniors and colleagues. Similarly, if we're dealing with an opposite angle, like a high-angle shot,
There's no eye-level in the frame because it's a view from above, looking down from about this height.
Some people struggle with the concept of vanishing lines, just like they do with eye-level.
These lines and points are curved because we live on a round Earth.
Imagine we're here on Earth, although humans can't be seen at this scale.
Human vision has limits; we can't see everywhere. That's why we can only see up to a certain point.
Some claim to see a hundred kilometers away, but there's a limit to the average human's field of vision.
Given the vastness of space, there's a limit to what can be seen within the field of vision, making it seem like the sky and ground converge, which we refer to as the eye-level.
Because of this real-life situation, there's an inherent limitation to eye-level, vanishing points, and such concepts.
Initially, people follow these vanishing points and lines, but eventually, everyone hits a limit.
How one overcomes this limit determines whether they advance to a higher level or stagnate, which often leads to various outcomes.
For example, one of the most challenging parts when creating animation is dealing with corridors, the corridors of corridors.
They don't just form as perfect squares; corridors, as you see now, emerge more as rectangles.
When you try to work aligning them with the vanishing points, it just doesn't feel right.
So, in such cases, it's often better to tackle each section separately, one by one.
Even in traditional art, you might notice in landscapes that the vanishing points are scattered rather than strictly aligned.
The scenes are not created with precise adherence to these points.
That's because the places we live in are not perfectly aligned without any gaps.
We live in harmony with nature, so some places will lean a bit, some will rise, and others will fall, which is why we can't strictly standardize these spaces.
If we forcibly align a corridor with vanishing points, it looks unnatural.
Therefore, it is best to adhere to these principles while working within them until you fully grasp the concept.
Another point is that our frame can contain an enormous amount of information.
Within this small screen, you could potentially place an entire country, a city, or a single building.
When you later capture angles and shots,
These details can be quite challenging. I struggled with them too. My recommendation is to visit places like subway stations, building corridors, or rooftops where you can observe these spaces in one glance, take pictures, or feel them in person.
The distance from here to the eye level we see can be immense, truly.
It could stretch for tens of kilometers, and when constructing buildings or creating a scene, it could be hundreds of meters or even a kilometer long.
To grasp this feeling, it's essential to visit and observe these places frequently and to practice drawing them. One common method involves connecting central lines continuously to construct the layout.
There are also techniques for calculating this methodically.
In Japan, some people who meticulously draft layouts use this method to perform their calculations.
But you need to practice these techniques in your work until they become second nature, which will enable you to craft storyboards that capture the angles you desire.
I have explained these three types of lines. In this session, we will continue from the last time, moving on to explain the storyboard in a trail-like continuation.
Previously, we covered the story of Seol A-hyun, who transformed into a human from a lecture spirit, forged a relationship, and then began living nearby, only to lose her composure and meet ten Pokémon Go players who were searching for their family.
She ended up killing the family members, which is where we stopped last time.
This time, I will continue explaining while showing the scenario I have worked on.
This scene is the last one I introduced before.
It shows Kang Hyun-deok, who has lost his sanity, killing his own family and witnessing Seol A-hyun, transformed into a monstrous creature.
We ended the last session with Kang Hyun-deok frozen in terror, and we'll proceed with the next shot from there.
The next shot pulls back from shot twenty-seven to emphasize Seol A-hyun's blood-drenched hand to convey a more intense atmosphere of horror.
The reason I'm not showing the full body is that sometimes showing parts can be more effective than showing the whole, which can also arouse curiosity about the appearance.
For the viewer, this can create a sense of intrigue and wonder about what the creature looks like.
And another thing is, when people are too terrified, they often can't look properly, can they?
Also, because they are so agitated and in a heightened state of alert, their ability to clearly perceive things can be diminished.
I wanted to capture that feeling, so I deliberately chose not to show the entire body but instead to focus on certain parts that could evoke a sense of dread.
So, we see Seol A-hyun's blood-soaked hand, and beyond that, Kang Hyun-deok trembling with fear.
Kang Hyun-deok is maintaining the pose and state from cut twenty-seven in the earlier part.
In that moment, the young Kang Chang, just over two years old, runs to his father and collapses next to him, realizing that the being he thought was his mother has become a terrifying entity.
This is to convey the psychology of a child in Kang Chang's position, to give that impression through the composition.
Originally, such a shot would last more than four seconds, but since we have only about five minutes for the trailer, I don't think we have the time to accommodate such length. Therefore, I've decided to make it about two seconds long.
Given the limited time we have for the trailer, about five minutes, I think it's best to allocate approximately two seconds for the initial part, showing Kang Hyun-deok trembling, followed by about eighteen frames for the entry and actions of Kang Chang.
For the portrayal of fear, it's crucial to capture the essence of the emotion in a brief moment. Although we are detached observers, we often think, "Why don't they just run away?" But in reality, when faced with such horror, a person's mind can go blank, and it's this frustration that intensifies the fear.
That's why I think this kind of direction is employed. To enhance this feeling, I deliberately chose not to show the entire body but to focus on specific body parts.
By doing so, the red eyes of Seol A-hyun, filled with murderous intent, suddenly widen as she recognizes the young Kang Chang, which might allow her to regain a sense of humanity.
It's that moment of shock, where she widens her eyes as if to say, "What have I done?"
So, I've dedicated about a second to this moment.
Next, we switch to Seol A-hyun's perspective for a close-up. I've written it as 'unrecognizable' because it may seem like the mother, but there's a sense that it's not.
Kang Chang is trying desperately to recognize her, to find his mother in that figure.
We see Kang Chang, petrified, tears welling up in his eyes, his pupils dilated and trembling, captured in about twelve frames.
The next shot intentionally mirrors shot twenty-nine to maintain continuity and to heighten the psychological tension even more than before.
By carrying over the last pose and feeling from shot twenty-nine, I aim to evoke even more intense emotions.
It's pitiful because the baby born between Seol A-hyun and Kang Hyun-deok is innocent.
There's a sorrowful complexity in Seol A-hyun's expression, as she is so close to being a proper human, a mother, a wife, a daughter-in-law, and truly living that life.
'Jojongbure' is a term I use; it's Japanese for trembling.
Inner acting is essential in scenes like this, where subtle expressions make a significant impact.
Suddenly, Seol A-hyun senses something and stares off-screen, using a technique with colored filters on the top and bottom to emphasize the space inside.
This use of filters helps to accentuate the focus of the scene.
When Seol A-hyun looks off-screen with such intensity, it's revealed that there is a talisman attached to the back of a throwing dagger, which I've intentionally set alight.
I wanted to give the impression of otherworldly forces at play, rather than just real fire, so I used colors like teal for the flame.
Since it's night, the visual effect of the fire should be more striking, which is why I chose to use it.
The term 'line background' refers to a backdrop composed solely of lines, which suggests a sense of rapid movement.
What we have here is referred to as a 'streamline background,' which means a background made up entirely of lines.
It uses the term 'streamline' as in flowing lines, conveying a sense of very rapid movement.
It's so fast that the object itself isn't clearly visible and appears only as lines.
In American terms, we call this a 'zip pan'. I wrote 'dai' here, which means 'stand', as in the stands used at a vendor's stall.
This is about the concept of 'pan', but it's written with the direction indicated like this.
What this means is that I've explained before that cameras used to look like this.
So, it's shot from above, placing the cell and background on top of this part.
And the camera is designed with a light shining down from the top part here.
So, if you look here, there's a space open, allowing light to come in from below, which would brighten this area.
That's how the camera would capture the shot.
So, on top of this, another 'stand' is added to raise it up and shoot from there.
But it's not the camera that moves, it's the 'stand' below that moves left and right, up and down, and can also rotate and tilt diagonally. That's why I marked the direction of the 'stand's' movement.
Usually, if the 'stand' moves to the right, the image appears to move left, and vice versa. The standard notation would be to mark it this way, but I'm used to doing it the other way because it doesn't matter as much with camera shots nowadays, and the direction has shifted to indicate the movement of the object itself.
So, marking it this way shows the speed and direction of the lines.
This is how the throwing stars appear to fly forward, giving that impression.
It's arranged this way to convey the composition.
Even if it's just lines on a screen, it's necessary to indicate where this is happening.
That's why it's labeled 'night sky' - even if it's depicted with lines, it's important to teach and make it recognizable.
Because it's not just in black and white but in color, it's essential to show whether it's the night sky or a wall.
That's why the colors are chosen to clearly indicate the background location, so it's understood where the action is taking place.
By maintaining this, the action within this space can be conveyed.
So the next shot shows how the throwing knives almost hit the ground but miss and spark a fire.
But that alone felt lacking, so I added a bit of a pan to the camera to extend the reach.
Objects that are far away appear at the top of the screen, but as they fly closer, they come towards the right side, creating a better composition, which is why I deliberately added the pan.
I wanted to create a vibration in the screen, a very rapid movement, for about a second. Depending on the position within the frame, the speed will vary, taking about a quarter or a fifth of a second to fly across the screen.
The time it takes to travel from here to there is much longer than it takes to fly forward due to the speed difference, which needs to be calculated.
Next, I wanted to show a full-body shot of the nine-tailed fox dodging the knives, applying a wide shot to detail the tumbling action.
A full-body view from a distance might make the action seem slower, but it's clearer to understand. Yet, it might lack the dramatic impact and speed.
So I opted for a closer angle to enhance the sense of speed and urgency, as objects appear larger and then smaller, adding a dynamic feel to the movement.
Filling the screen and then shrinking into the background creates a more dramatic effect, which is why I set the angle this way.
So the next pose is narrowly avoiding the knives, which then stick into the ground with flames, and the camera follows along with a 'follow pan'.
With a follow pan, the original drawing moves from the front to the back, so it's numbered to follow along, adjusting the camera to keep the movement centered on the screen.
It's a bit exaggerated, but it's marked like this comma, this comma, etc., not in equal time intervals, but adjusted to the movement of the original drawing to chase it across the screen.
Because if we just pan away, the subject might have already moved out of the frame, leaving us with an empty space.
So after dodging the second one, and finally avoiding the last dagger, it's possible to show the character settling within this cut, but we want to give viewers the feeling that they're right there alongside the character in action,
as if they're present in the same space, watching from the side.
So, I intentionally didn't conclude this cut, to maintain that feeling,
and set up a separate angle to connect to the next shot.
I captured a separate shot of Seol Ah-hyeon landing like this,
showing her landing while the shurikens fly by, and she keeps looking around,
instinctively sensing something and dodging, although she hasn't seen the target yet.
She dodges first without seeing the target and then looks towards it to confirm what it was.
Here, too, for the internal acting, I'd ask for a focus of about one second, twelve frames for this cut, which isn't much time but should be possible since it's purely action for now.
Usually, with this timing, we'd give a buffer of about twelve frames for leeway. It's crucial to judge such timings by visualizing the action in your mind and adjusting the frames accordingly, and I hope you'll continue to practice this.
I'll conclude the explanation here for today.