Good location audio will make your film shine. The less you have to redo in post the better, as nat sound will bring a level of realism to any project. There are many tools available to help you achieve better sound, from a bevvy of tried and tested field recorders to some crucial on-camera mics like the ever-popular Rode, but what about those hard-to-reach areas away from the camera? Clearly wireless mics are the solution, but which mid-range system is the best? Thanks to Dave Dugdale of Learning DSLR Video, we have our answer. Check out the wireless mic battle of the ages after the jump.
The biggest section I want to point out is the Output Level and Noise Test. Dave says:
The Shure wins here by a lot. The Sennheiser and the Sony are tied and they Azden does absolutely terrible.
Long story short on the Azden -- don't. I mean, if it's between that and two cups with some string between them, okay but... just don't. They've got a long way to come before being in league with the wireless greats. If you've used them, you know what I'm talking about.
I'm surprised that the Shure stood out so far in this test, but if you watch the video, it all really does make sense.
I'm not at all surprised by the Distance Test. Sony and Sennheiser both have solid field reputations, and this simply solidifies that. I think Shure is usually going to be more of a studio company, and that is okay, they play to their strengths (though arguably Sennheiser still takes the title there, too).
Before watching/reading Dave's Shootout, I have to admit my bias for the Sony UWP system. I've used it in my kit for many years, since way back in the day of the Z1U, and it's never failed me. I've frequently hooked up the cube transmitter from the UWP-V6 system to a boom mic as well. The Sony system is built like a tank and has taken many a fall from a clumsy actor's fiddling. However, I can't ignore his case for the Sennheiser, and that shouldn't surprise me at all. Sennheiser is a company with an outstanding reputation, but when I think "field audio," my mind just goes to Sony, and for "dialog" my mind goes to Shure. I'm probably also biased because of my Sony MDR-7506s, which I've had for as long as I've been filming.
One of the opinions Dave mentions earlier on is that he's not into dual system sync sound. I happen to be on the other side of that coin. Yeah, it can be a pain to sync in post if you don't have the right tools, but that's why you get the right tools, like Plural Eyes, which makes syncing a breeze on Final Cut Pro/Premiere/AVID Media Composter. Dual system forces you to slate everything, which is good for everyone on-set, and it helps with the flow. It also allows the mixer and boom op to simply run off and do their audio thing, which is less hassle for the cam op.
Another small deviance I'd like to make: Dave makes the point more than a few times on the blog as well as YouTube comments that these mics may be out of his core audience's price range. We have a lot of DIY/indie readers ourselves, and my advice is a little more forward than his -- PONY UP AND GET A GOOD WIRELESS SYSTEM. Yes, I know that f/1.4 50mm would go lovely with your Canon 5D Mark II. So will that f/1.4 20mm on your Panasonic GH2 (hard for me to deny that one!). But if you're not invested in a good audio system, with all the flexibility it brings for great on-set sound, and you're simply relying on post audio for all your principle dialog while still working on a budget... my friend, your production is going to sound iffy. Making your film look iffy. Making this kitten cry.
Ultimately in the film world, you get what you pay for. What mics are go-to's in your world? Has anyone had any awesome and/or horror stories with any of the systems listed above?
I read somewhere that there are only two best-case scenarios for a great screenplay—either it meets the expectations of the audience or it doesn’t. Either they sigh in relief or gasp out loud in shock.
Giving your audience what they want shouldn’t be difficult for a practiced writer. A character has a desire, and they achieve it at the end of the story. Boom! Expectations met!
But there’s something oddly satisfying about not meeting those expectations in a screenplay, leaving the audience shaken in disbelief.
Many compelling screenplays use something called misdirection—it's sneaky, it's intelligent, and it takes viewers somewhere unexpected. It's all about planting subtle clues that seem insignificant until a revelation forces us to reconsider everything.
Let’s examine how this narrative tool, when used thoughtfully, can transform straightforward storytelling into something more complex and satisfying.
What is Misdirection?
Misdirection is distracting the audience to mislead them, preventing them from getting on to your scheme of actions, until you finally reveal the truth. In essence, it is a style of storytelling, where the “audience proposes, filmmaker disposes.”
In misdirection, a filmmaker manipulates information, character(s), and their timing in the narrative while building the conflict, until everything falls into place to reveal an unexpected resolution that does not match the audience’s expectations.
Many times, the audience is also purposefully misdirected by exploiting their biases, prejudices, and gullibility.
Why Would Any Filmmaker Misdirect Their Audience?
A story is as interesting as its narration. Be it a bedtime story or Nolan’s Inception, if the narrative is linear and flat, it may be less engaging to your audience.
Misdirection is one of the finest tools that acts like a hook to your story. Misdirecting elements are thought-provoking, working with the audience’s psychology to throw them off guard.
Fiction gives you the freedom to alter realities, but even while misdirecting, it is important that the dots connect effectively by the end of the story. Information shouldn’t be irrelevant and without context.
How Do You Misdirect Your Audience?
You can use any story element to misdirect the audience, but the most commonly used are characters, sound, props, plot points, strategic information reveal, and the time of the incident of any event.
Examples of Misdirection in Great Films
Gone Girl by David Fincher
Misdirection by unreliable narrator
This is one of those stories that is completely narrated in misdirection.
The film opens through husband Nick’s (Ben Affleck) perspective, who becomes the prime suspect in the disappearance of his wife, Amy (Rosamund Pike), on their fifth marriage anniversary. As the investigation and media frenzy take over, we are let into the lives of our two main characters and led to believe that Amy might actually be dead.
We learn about their failing marriage and Nick’s extramarital affair. Thus, when Nick lies through his teeth about his loving relationship with Amy to the police, he instantly becomes an unreliable narrator in the story.
Thus, even though his alibis are believable, you cannot trust him and can’t take his word. Rather, you, with the police, start suspecting him.
This automatically shifts all your trust to Amy instead, even though you know even less about her than Nick. Wonderfully, you have begun rooting for her now.
What you might not realize is that you have been misdirected to dislike Nick as a character, so that you automatically take Amy’s side right from the beginning, until it is revealed that Amy is alive and purposefully in hiding.
This is one of the many misdirections in the film.
By regulating how the audience judges the characters, their morality, and their intentions, a filmmaker often shatters the expectations of the audience with misdirection to give them a more surprising resolution than expected.
The Sixth Sense by M. Night Shyamalan
Misdirection by character
Just by establishing a character in a certain way and revealing information about them strategically, a filmmaker can determine the character’s impression on the audience.
This is what M. Night Shyamalan does in The Sixth Sense. The magician of misdirection keeps both the characters and the audience engaged, looking for the ghost, all the while narrating the events through the ghost’s perspective!
The beauty of a nuanced misdirection lies in the clues left throughout a film’s events, leaving you both frustrated and delighted at the same time that you didn’t pick up on them!
Money Heist by Álex Pina
Misdirection by sound
In the Spanish drama series, Money Heist, the makers use a powerful misdirection but with a genius twist. This misdirection is not only for the audience per se, but for the main character—the Professor (Álvaro Morte), too.
In the Season 2 finale of the drama series, the Professor and Raquel (Itziar Ituño), the love of his life and newly minted partner-in-crime known as “Lisbon,” are sprinting through a dense, shadowy forest. The air crackles with urgency as police hounds close in, their shouts breaking the eerie silence of the forest.
Eventually, they are forced to separate, with a radio as their only mode of communication. Raquel ends up taking refuge in a barn, but not for too long. The police arrive, and she is completely surrounded. A gun to her head, she is ordered to compromise the Professor, but she’s steel-willed and denies the police any information.
All the while, the Professor is on the radio with her, frightened and worried, begging her to tell them everything in exchange for her life. The Professor frantically runs through the forest to reach Raquel, when… bang! A gunshot rips through the radio.
The Professor stops dead, the forest swallowing his anguished cry. But as the episode races to its close, the fog clears. The shot? A cruel ruse. She’s alive and in police custody. The Professor’s despair was their bait, and he bit—hard.
What I love about this particular sequence is that the filmmakers don’t use misdirection as a generalized cliff-hanger of “what happens next.”
Instead of revealing that Raquel is alive in an upcoming episode of the next season, they make a choice to reveal it at the tail end of the same episode.
Raquel is a crucial character in the series at this point, so to lose her in the narrative would have been a huge plot twist. At times, thrillers do go for the cheap surprise, whether it makes sense or not. But in Money Heist, the reveal elevates the value of the misdirection because now the audience knows things are going to change forever—for better or worse.
Final Destination 5 by Steven Quale
Misdirection by props
The sequence leading up to Candice’s fall in Final Destination 5 is a series of brilliantly crafted misdirections that keep us on the edge of our seats until the mishap finally happens.
The misdirections also seem to be symbolic, as the death of poor Candice (Ellen Wroe) is a sharp irony. Throughout the scene, we keep worrying about the loose screw in her gymnastic apparatus but how she is killed by it in the end is absolutely unexpected—just how a nuanced misdirection should be.
Psycho by Alfred Hitchcock
Misdirection by casting
Killing the heroine halfway through the film was a risky but brilliantly used misdirection by Alfred Hitchcock in Psycho, especially considering the film dates back to the ‘60s.
An actor’s face value is as important as their acting skills. Big actors usually have strong plot armor and are expected to survive the story.
In Psycho, when a star like Janet Leigh is killed off midway through the movie, the audience is thrown off guard and does not know what to assume, whose story to follow, or what to expect next. This amplifies the shock factor of the plot twist.
Misdirection can turn your story into a fun experience with plenty of unexpected twists and turns. When done well, a reveal should prompt viewers to think, "Of course! How did I miss that?" rather than, "That came out of nowhere!"
The audience hates being deceived. So, not meeting audience expectations doesn’t mean you lie and fill the screenplay with deceiving information, revealed in an untimely way, aiming for a plot twist in the climax that feels isolated and seemingly unmotivated.
Also, be careful not to clutter your narrative with forced misdirections.
For a better understanding, check out the examples in the article—how each misdirection is a strategic literary device, not just a stylized form of storytelling.
