October 1, 2014

Is Shooting in B&W the Dumbest Thing You Can Do? 'Go Down Death' Director Says Yes & I'd Do It Again!

There are safe films that we enjoy and forget, and then there are risky films that make some filmgoers happy and others quite mad. Go Down Death is one of those films. A black-and-white, darkly comedic drama based on folktales of Jonathan Mallory Sinus (an author one can only presume was invented by the director), it earns loving champions while at the same time inciting "extreme revulsion" in say, potential distributors, according to director Aaron Schimberg. From building elaborate sets in an abandoned paint factory, mixing in mono, to how shooting on B&W film stock may just be the dumbest thing you can do, Aaron Schimberg sat down with No Film School to talk about the creative adventures and unexpected success of his breakout underground feature Go Down Death.

I first met Aaron Schimberg during the 2012 IFP Lab in New York. Disheartened by a series of rejections, Aaron and his producer/editor Vanessa McDonnell gave a PowerPoint presentation on their distribution options that included plan B as "murder/suicide." Appreciating their sense of humor and unpretentious disposition -- as well as the fantastic uniqueness of their film -- I hoped to see Go Down Death get its due. Two years later, the film has gotten reviews the likes of "a captivating excursion into surreality Americana" and "amidst all the cookie-cutter indies, Aaron Schimberg’s Go Down Death casts a mysterious spell." And it's finally available on iTunes and Amazon. Before you delve into our interview, take a glance at Go Down Death in the trailer, or rent it for yourself:

NFS: Tell us about shooting on black-and-white 16mm, or shall I say, "monochromaniacal eye-straining 2-D."

Aaron Schimberg: I was talking to some producer guy about my film and when I told him it was in black-and-white, he said “Well, let me watch it before you desaturate it.” Meaning, he assumed I shot it in color and was planning to digitally convert it to black-and-white, which is common now, and that it was something I could be talked out of later. I said, “No, no. I shot it on black-and-white film,” and his face just -- he gave me this really disturbing look, kind of a mix of pity, loathing and extreme revulsion. He said in this kind of funereal tone, “Man, I’m so sorry to hear that.”  Then his assistant came over and the producer pointed to me and said, “This little dude here just shot his feature on black-and-white film stock,” and they both started chuckling and they walked away and started talking to James Franco.

Shooting in black-and-white is really the dumbest thing you can do -- I mean, in a sense, they were absolutely right. There are a lot of ways to repel producers and distributors, but the worst crime in the world is shooting in black-and-white.

People warn you beforehand, but you don’t believe them because what difference should it make? Black-and-white is wonderful. I love it, I’m sure other people love it; I don’t think it’s a problem for most people. But it’s irrevocable, and some foreign territories refuse to buy black-and-white films, so you’ve lost that market by default and that’s a quantifiable liability. It’s a concrete shortcoming in a business where people are usually just guessing. Other potential flaws -- a film is too long, the ending is too depressing, anything like that -- can theoretically be remedied through threats and scheming. Even if the filmmaker is adamant that he or she is not going to change his or her film, a distributor can nod, buy the film, and destroy that filmmaker’s life. But black-and-white, it’s just a disaster for these people. It’s like a pacifist politician -- doomed to fail. Not long for this world.

But, I don’t have any regrets. It’s just that distributors and producers consider me unbelievably stupid and naïve. I shot in black-and-white because I thought it was appropriate for the film, because I like it, because it’s cheaper than color film, and because I think color is more difficult to work with, and I’m not ready for it. There are a lot of valid reasons to shoot in black-and-white, as long as you don’t mind certain people thinking you’re a completely worthless piece of shit.

A still from Go Down Death shot on Kodak 7222.
A still from Go Down Death shot on Kodak 7222.Credit: Go Down Death

NFS: What did you shoot on as far as film stock, camera?

AS: We shot on Panavision cameras. The film stock was Kodak 7222. It’s a beautiful stock, but it’s as grainy as film gets. Some people have suggested that the graininess is some kind of aesthetic affectation on my part, but I had nothing to do with it. It’s just the film stock we could afford, it’s one of the last black-and-white stocks available.

I personally love the grain, but it has made digitizing the film extremely difficult, because these digital algorithms aren’t designed to handle so much frame-by-frame variation -- digital compression utilizes consistency, so we had to experiment endlessly to get a decent-looking digital version. I really wanted a 35mm print, but -- maybe if Tarantino promises to screen it at the New Beverly, I’ll start a Kickstarter to get one made. Do you know that guy?

A character from Go Down Death.
Credit: Go Down Death

NFS: Since B&W processing for 16mm isn't all that common anymore, where did you send your film to be processed? How did the whole thing affect the production?

AS: As we started filming, DuArt in New York was winding down their film-developing department, so they wouldn’t do it. So we ended up sending the footage to FotoKem in Los Angeles. At the end of each day, we’d FedEx the footage to Los Angeles and I’d get back dailies a week later. There was a 7-day lag, but we had to knock down all our sets, which took two weeks to build, on our last day of shooting and move out of the space immediately. So, if something had happened to that last week’s worth of footage, if it got lost or ruined or the exposure or focus had been off, basically half of the film would have been lost and reshoots would not have been a possibility for us. I always tell this story, but everything came back just fine, so I don’t know what the point of this story is. It’s like saying, “Last year, I went to the doctor and got tested for a brain tumor, and he told me I was fine. The end.”

NFS: How did you record sound?

AS: We recorded the sound digitally, which my wife never forgave me for. She was insistent that recording on a Nagra, on analogue tape, would be a hundred times better. I don’t disagree with her. It was a moral failing on my part. I’m the one who has to learn to live with myself.

Because we shot the whole thing in a paint factory, there was no atmospheric sound, except the sounds of semi-trucks backing up, the sound of psychotic neighbors screaming at each other and, most of all, the Mr. Softee Ice Cream truck jingle -- “Do You Ears Hang Low” which is really just “Turkey In the Straw.”

If you listen in headphones, you can hear the jingle over at least half of the film. I believe that people watching the film will start to get a craving for ice cream. Since there was no sound -- you’d see two characters in the forest, but you wouldn’t hear wind or leaves or birds or crickets, you’d just hear “Do Your Ears Hang Low” -- Vanessa, the editor, and I would just steal sounds from other movies and put them in just to make the rough-cut watchable when we screened it to friends. And we became obsessive about it. And all that stuff made it into the final cut -- because all that stuff was recorded on a Nagra and sounds great! The wind, crickets, footsteps, explosions, all that stuff, is stolen outright -- with some exceptions. There’s no foley in the film, and there’s no ADR. But our sound mixer, Chris Foster, worked magic and fleshed it out with his own effects and other sounds, and the mix is beautiful. The sound recording by Doug Choi was great, considering we were shooting in a giant echoey warehouse next to a Mr. Softee convention. But it would have sounded better with a Nagra. Don’t blame Doug though; it’s my own fault.

And then we mixed the film in mono, which I was adamant about -- this is also considered an affectation on my part, and maybe it is. I know I sound like I’m 90 years old, but I don’t like stereo and I really hate surround sound. You’ll never convince me otherwise. Maybe it’s because I’m deaf in one ear. But mono is another thing -- a sound mixer actually said to me, “Do you realize how revolutionary this is, mixing it in mono?” I mean, I’m not saying I agree with him, I think “revolutionary” is probably a tad hyperbolic, although I appreciated what I assume to be a compliment, but maybe was a vicious insult.

  But mixing in mono really was another stupid decision, because no one knows how to mix in mono or how to play it back in mono or what the specs are for mono output -- does mono mean one center channel, or two identical stereo channels, or some other combination? Do you have to make it louder to compensate for the lack of other channels? How can you mix it so that it will play correctly on a 2-channel home theater, on an iPad or in an IMAX megaplex with sub-woofers under every seat?

No one could figure it out, even though it seems like mono would be the simplest way to mix sound in the world, the default. But Chris Foster was the only guy who could figure it out, and the only person who didn’t try to dissuade me.

Inside the old paint factory on the set of Go Down Death.
Inside the old paint factory.Credit: Go Down Death

NFS: You shot in an old paint factory or something? Was this like, an ideal location? Was everything shot in there?

AS: Everything in the film was shot in this paint factory. It was not an ideal location at all, but it was the one place that let us have it and promised not to kick us out if the Food Network wanted to move in. I mean, I’m sure they would have kicked us out if Anthony Bourdain wanted to do No Reservations: Toxic Paint Factories, but the spot was just terrible enough that nobody would want it. Not even Anthony Bourdain.

There was no air conditioning, and it was during a heat-wave, under bright lights, and Mr. Softee was outside the whole time calling out for everybody, tempting us, mocking us, making us look like assholes who were too cheap to buy ice cream for the crew during a heat-wave.

There was a space in Brooklyn, in Bushwick, that we wanted to shoot in and the guy who owned it read the script and said, “This is exactly why I built this space. This is why I moved to New York. I really want you guys to shoot your film here, but I have to tell you that if Guy Fieri wants to use the space in the middle of your shoot, I won’t say no to him.” I don’t know if he meant Guy Fieri was gonna break his legs or what, but we had to look elsewhere.

I was eating dinner in this restaurant called John’s of 12th Street in the East Village, and I guess Guy Fieri must have done an episode in there, because he, or his people, spray-painted his face on the wall, he desecrated the interior of this historic restaurant that’s been there over a hundred years. It must have been in the contract: I’ll give you publicity; you let me remake this place in my own demonic image. Quid pro quo. You walk in there, it’s still a very magnificent-looking restaurant, but if you look above the bar -- you can’t miss it -- there’s this enormous spray-painted mural of this horrific brutish malevolent creature with bleach-blonde hair and a goatee. It’s really tragic.

On the set of Go Down Death.
Credit: Go Down Death

NFS: Would you say this is micro budget? How did you manage to get such elaborate sets, shoot on film, and so on under such a tight budget?

AS: I don’t know how to define micro-budget. It’s certainly a relatively small budget, but compared to what? It’s still hovering within five-figures, but if you’re talking about “figures” as a euphemism for money, you’ve probably lost the micro-budget battle. Or won it. I know people who have made films for $200, great films, so it could be considered an insult to call my five-figure film micro-budget. That’s two extra figures, after all.

I had nothing to do with pulling off something so elaborate for such a relatively miniscule budget. Vanessa McDonnell, the producer, was the brains behind the enterprise. The production designers, Kate Rance and Sia Balabanova, are geniuses. They’re like rocket scientists. If I had to make the film without them, I probably would have ended up just shooting the entire thing against a white wall in my bathroom. And Stacey Berman and Kara Feely, the costume designers -- without them, everybody would have been naked. Now, only two characters are naked. We shot that before the costume designers came along.  And Lee, the DP -- I had a bunch of geniuses standing next to me. I left a lot of people out, other geniuses. Read the credits, you’ll see genius after genius. I’m not being facetious -- it’s a collaborative effort, and if I deserve any credit, it’s ‘cause I was willing to hold out for the right people. I was patient and I guess I had high expectations, which is very unlike me.

Because we shot the whole thing in this one location, that simplified things -- we just sort of camped out there for a couple weeks. We never had to move equipment from place to place. We didn’t have to set up or tear down new locations every day. Oh, also, we didn’t pay the actors. That helps.

We built this little functioning village in a paint factory, lived off toxic fumes for a few weeks, and the promise of Mister Softee. It became our home, and now that home is in a dumpster, except for the rubber mulch, mixed with broken glass, which, in the film, is used as dirt in the forest -- that’s in NYC playgrounds now.

Cast members on the set of Go Down Death.
Credit: Go Down Death
NFS: There are a lot of unusual faces in the film. How did you decide to cast who you did? Actors, non-actors?

AS: Casting was extremely difficult. First, I cast friends, but I only have -- I think I have one friend. Or -- two. Between one and two friends. A lot of Facebook friends, though. So that left a few dozen roles to cast. Occasionally, I’d see someone in the subway who looked like they’d be a good fit, but I’ve never talked to strangers in my life, and strangers don’t talk to me, except to tell me to get the fuck out of the way, so I’d kind of look at some girl on the subway, and she’d look at me and then turn her back and clutch her purse and quickly get off at the next stop. One guy was really perfect, and I was slightly drunk, so I approached him, and he was like, “A film, huh? I’m sure you’re a real Marty Scorseeeez,” and then he patted me on the cheek. It was really upsetting.

So we put out ads, and the ads specified nothing, it just said “film audition, this Wednesday at 8am, come to my apartment.” That was probably my first mistake. I didn’t specify gender or race or age or acting experience because I just wanted the entire population of New York to come in and audition; anyone who wanted to come. I had nothing in mind for any of the roles. I mean, I did, but I like surprises. I like to be convinced that this part written for a teenage girl should be played by an elderly, frail man.

But most people who showed up were fresh out of acting school, or recently retired, and some of them were good, many of them were awful, but generally, very few of them were appropriate or were willing to conform to this more stylized approach. So we held maybe 15-day long auditions over the course of a month, we saw hundreds of people -- I’m not exaggerating. And every time, maybe one or two would be right for the film, and for the most part, they were people who had never acted before.

The dialogue in the script is stylized, and in a sense interchangeable, and I had wanted everyone to speak in a uniform manner, but I realized it wasn’t going to be possible to rehearse with anyone at length, so I had to rework my approach. Meanwhile, the sets were being built in the paint factory. So anybody who came in and had a unique interpretation of this similar-sounding dialogue, I would cast them. So the film contains a wide variety of acting styles, sometimes within the same scene. One person is acting like Chico Marx, and he’s talking to someone who thinks she’s Maria Callas. Casting the film became about finding the right admixture, figuring out the most effective combination of all of these styles, how they could play off each other in ways that would create something strange and interesting and beautiful.

Also -- this is not a joke -- I really wanted Mike Tyson in the film. I won’t say which part, but I wrote it for Mike Tyson. And I did everything I could to get to him, and we even hired this really unscrupulous casting director for three days, who claimed that she spoke to him and that he was demanding $100,000 per day. I don’t believe she ever talked to Tyson, and she certainly didn’t cast anyone in the film. Maybe I’m deluded, but I like to think that Mike Tyson would have been moved by the part and he really would have been brilliant in it.

The poster for Go Down Death.
Credit: Go Down Death

NFS: What was editing process like with your editor, Vanessa McDonnell?

AS: Another genius. She stuck with the film for far too long. She’s the greatest editor in the world; she’s thorough and technically brilliant and full of ideas. For her, every cut needs to contain some kind of joke -- perhaps a subtle joke. But every cut. To her, there’s no use cutting unless there’s something hilarious hidden within that cut. The film is very tightly edited. We would argue over every millisecond.  We would watch the entire film with each cut a millisecond later, and then again with each cut a millisecond earlier, just to see how it affected the film. She’s slightly insane, and I’m slightly rational so it worked out.

NFS: So, do you consider this an experimental film?

AS: People who don’t like the film consider it experimental. I love experimental film, and I’ve made experimental films, but I consider this a narrative film -- but some of the narrative information is withheld. I honestly believe that there’s nothing in the film that doesn’t make logical sense, except for one thing in the beginning, which I regret. This was an editing choice we made, and it creates a nice moment, but it doesn’t make logical sense, so I regret it. The film doesn’t provide a lot of context, so you may not know exactly what’s going on -- but there’s nothing in the film, in my opinion, that’s nonsensical. I’m not equating experimental films with nonsense, by the way, I just happen to think of Go Down Death is rooted in some kind of narrative logic. I think you can reconstruct the original narrative around the film, but I also think that it’s not important to do that. But maybe I’m the wrong person to ask.

NFS: What made you decide to make Go Down Death as your first film?

AS: Naïveté.

NFS: Go Down Death is finally out for us to see. Where can we go to do that?

AS: Well, I’m hoping that if I were to say, for instance, iTunes, or Amazon, or let’s say, Vudu, whatever the hell that is, or Google -- if I were to say those things, perhaps those things might become active links. That’s what I’m hoping.

NFS: Advice for fellow filmmakers?

AS: Don’t be like me, kids.


Thank you, Aaron!

If you want to support your fellow filmmaker and see Go Down Death in monochromaniacal eye-straining 2D with your very own eyes, check it out on the platforms mentioned above.

Have you seen (or made) any films lately that have taken risks in the face of commercial viability? Any experiences shooting in black-and-white? How did either work out for you in the long run? We'd love to hear your two cents.     

Your Comment


Not that anybody asked, but I'm going to shoot my first feature in B&W. Everything will be so frugal, colors would seem like a luxury. Actually, the lack of it will be integral part of the plot. And my friends don't like the ideia, but I kept my decision.

So the guy is not alone.

October 1, 2014 at 4:02PM


Good luck Rodrigo -- you should let us know how it all turns out.

October 1, 2014 at 5:49PM

Oakley Anderson-Moore

Thanks! I will. :)

October 2, 2014 at 7:45AM


Christopher Nolan shot his first film on BW 16mm as well for just $6000. Then there's Clerks, I heard Kevin Smith chose BW so he could mix tungsten and daylight lighting. Once I get to that point I think I'll try something similar since I love shooting on film so much. It's partly budgetary choice, if you're shooting on film, and partly a challenge to make the film engaging despite that. And if we want to talk digital, the monochrome cameras coming from RED, Arri, and Digital Bolex look FANTASTIC!!!

October 1, 2014 at 6:32PM

Peter Phillips

Yes, indeed there are options out there for those who wants to shoot B&W. Just the existence of digital options tells a lot about the demand, it's not that rare to hear someone wishing to experiment it, at least.

October 2, 2014 at 7:52AM


Wow. What an article. Why am I not shooting something RIGHT THIS MINUTE?! Super inspiring. Great work, can't wait to see it.

October 1, 2014 at 4:17PM

Alex Enman

What a riot! Great interview. Love working with people like this.
I'm going to look for the movie. Luckily he told you something which became active links.

October 1, 2014 at 6:03PM

Charlie K

Funny how that happened...

October 1, 2014 at 10:08PM

Oakley Anderson-Moore

Great story. I can totally relate to this style of filmmaking. His approach and aesthetic reminds me of Guy Maddin's films. Retro style silent or early talkie look with odd characters. Love it.

October 1, 2014 at 6:52PM


I love the sarcasm in the interview, but man, it just seems like he unnecessarily tried to take steps backwards when it came to decision making on the technical side of things.

October 1, 2014 at 7:32PM

Director / Writer / Producer

B&W have a power of traslate to the imagined...

October 2, 2014 at 2:43AM

Ragüel Cremades
Film producer and director

I produced and directed the last 35mm feature to shoot on Kodak Plus-X black-and-white film stock as it was being discontinued in 2010. The movie (The Ghastly Love of Johnny X) got distribution in the U.S., but foreign has been unsuccessful because of the black-and-white. A distributor once asked if there was a color version tucked away in a vault. I chuckled nervously, "No. The movie was shot on black-and white film. There is no color record." Dead silence.

I too was warned by my friends and colleagues about the dangers of shooting on black-and-white. "The kiss of death", they told me. But you know, movies like 'Go Down Death' and 'The Ghastly Love of Johnny X' will have the last laugh because they are unique enough to be discovered by the next generation of cinephiles who will love them all the more because the filmmakers did not compromise their vision.

Here's the story of my journey to make the last black-and-white Plus-X feature: http://www.nbcnews.com/video/nightly-news/47780741

October 2, 2014 at 1:31PM

Paul Bunnell
Moving Picture Maker

I think Black&White cinema is great if the filmmakers really know their shit. Grainless digital B/W is fine too, but sometimes I prefer a textured image with grain dancing around.

October 3, 2014 at 6:19AM

Terma Louis
Photographer / Cinematographer / Editor

For some reason this post doesn't seem to be appearing on the home page, FYI.

October 3, 2014 at 11:59AM, Edited October 3, 11:59AM

Brynn Sankey

This guy is hilarious. Worth the read just for his sarcasm!

October 3, 2014 at 12:20PM, Edited October 3, 12:20PM

Brynn Sankey

Oakley, this interview is HILARIOUS and the movie looks pretty incredible. My first thought from the trailer was Guy Madden (I think someone else said that too), which is a compliment for sure. Going to download this ASAP.

Just to add my B&W experience, I made a film called "Consignment" (www.consignmentmovie.com if anyone's interested) in black and white. We shot in B&W, so that there wouldn't be any opportunity/temptation to go back and "fix" it later (even the promotional/press photos were taken in B&W).

We've had good luck in terms of screenings and press in the US, and some distribution interest, but not much at all internationally. Never occurred to me (until now) that it might be the fact that it's a B&W film.

Again, great article!

October 4, 2014 at 9:17AM, Edited October 4, 9:17AM

Justin Hannah

A Nagra, huh. Seriously, are there are any experienced audio people who could credibly defend Nagra analog over something like a Sound Devices 788. In any way.

Forget about all the forgiveness of it's awesomely quiet preamps. Or the supreme flexibility the 788 allows. Forget the ease of use and the utter reliability in all kinds of conditions.

I'd have to double my rates to use a Nagra and make it clear that I cannot guarantee results in the way I could with a 788. I think the vast majority of location sound production people would agree hands down.

Nagra's analog was probably as good as it got in the old days (20 years ago). But it cannot touch a 788 in anyway whatsoever. It just doesn't have the dynamic range and thus is fairly harder to get the same results and much more attention to levels is required compared to running a cooler signal and boosting gain in post with the 788. Then there is the 8 input, recordable to 12 iso tracks. And that's just the beginning. I could go on quite a but on this.

When digital audio is done at 788 level, I doubt that any credible audio person is going to claim that analog is better.

The notion that you could just take your Nagra audio to just any post house is wrong nowadays because they'd need to have a Nagra deck and someone who knows/remembers how to use it. They'll charge significantly more due to the careful work required.

So much on film and TV has gone over to digital and as far as I'm aware, those people are not looking back with any regret.

Can anyone here credibly defend analog audio recording quality over a 788?

October 4, 2014 at 12:19PM

W Smith

Separate from my previous comment re analog versus digital audio, I'll give my 2 cents re shooting in B&W.

Esthetically speaking, who really knows. I doubt it will work financially unless you have a reputation and track record to inspire a distributor to take the risk. I really liked Darren Aronofsky's "Pi". I have no idea how that excellent story did commercially. I also liked "Raging Bull", a film that did very well. Scorsese surely didn't need to do it to stand out.

I've seen 2 B&Ws recently and cannot even recall their titles and have never even cared to think about them or discuss them with anyone because I don't know anyone else who saw them...

I suspect that those last 2 were done solely for the purpose of "standing out". Standing out in a good way? Those last 2 did get play in theaters known for screening the smaller less commercial releases (in addition to bigger films)

Personally speaking, I must say that I'm not sure that B&W deserves condemnation as "eye straining"

I've been a corporate video producer for many years although my only film experience has been on the audio side. Video people understand that there is a reason the best view finders are B&W. That is to reduce eye strain. We have to constantly maintain focus and we can see contrast better in B&W and the color would just get in the way. Video shooters using a viewfinder as opposed to a camera's LCD panel agree that B&W fatigues the eye much less.

I think that watching a B&W film can be an obstacle to "transparency" which a term audio recording engineers and audiophiles use to signify the the difference between what is heard live and that which is heard in a recording of that same sound. If one cannot any difference the audio is said to be utterly transparent ,

I think it's really the same thing with a video picture. We see the world in color and if we watch something unfolding live before our eyes and then watch it in a B&W video the transparency vanishes.

It's harder to shoot in color and maintain a transparency in terms of the color accuracy one saw in real life. far more But then pains must be taken with lighting, chroma settings, etc. And these things involve very subjective esthetic sensibilities. For the most part B&W is B&W. Color rendition vary wildly according to film stock, or if digital, the subjective sensibilities of the DP and post colorist.

One can also argue that graininess detracts from visual transparency too.

But alas, esthetic visual beauty is a subjective thing. Apparently, based on this very interview, though, the contemporary viewing public doesn't go for it very much.

I suppose people shooting their first film could shoot in B&W in an attempt to be different and stand out. Then when the film is rejected by the festivals and distributors, the producer can blame it's downfall on that alone, and still say "But isn't the story compelling?"

If one really thinks that B&W is so fantastic, it can still be very sensibly shot in color and converted. One can shoot in digital RAW and need not even worry about color grading in post unless a distributor is willing to pay for that based on the potential in terms of the screenplay and acting.

Thus "artistes" could claim to have preserved their own esthetic "dignity" and blame the distributor for mucking with it. At the end of the day, what would the artistes around here really rather have: a film that preserves their artistic dignity and is yet is seen by people? Or would they rather preserve their dignity and have their statement "go down in death?"

October 4, 2014 at 1:46PM

W Smith

It was hard to tell if this guy was really funny, or a little insane. Haha. Reminds me of Quentin Tarantino. Either way, great interview. Like others have said, makes you wanna just go shoot.

October 6, 2014 at 9:48AM, Edited October 6, 9:48AM

Kyle Sanders

When I shot my film HEIST (vimeo.com/dominicdimaria/heist) we recorded in color but monitored in black and white. Looking back, I definitely consider this a must if one is outputting in black and white.

October 12, 2014 at 7:30PM

Dominic DiMaria
Writer, Director, Camera Department