OWEN ROIZMAN | LIFE BEHIND THE CAMERA
Book review by John Larkin
Only a week ago, a friend sent me an Instagram post about OWEN ROIZMAN: LIFE BEHIND THE CAMERA. Before I had even finished looking at the post, I sought out the man who posted it, David E. Williams, and sent him a message. I told him about the five years I had spent making my documentary, FEAR AND LOVE: THE STORY OF THE EXORCIST, and how much I regretted being unable to interview Roizman. I’d had trouble connecting with him, and his health was poor during the period I was making the film. An interview never came together. Roizman is my favorite cinematographer, so that was a particularly disappointing omission. I also wish I’d devoted more time to his photography in the finished documentary, just as I wish I’d included more about Mercedes McCambridge. I don’t beat myself up over those things. I was doing work that would ordinarily have been divided among ten or fifteen people, and I know how much it took to finish the film. There are still things I wish had gone differently.
I was eager to see what Williams had put together. He knew Roizman personally, conducted extensive interviews with him, and had access to his personal photographic archives. Williams also brings considerable experience to the subject as a former editor and publisher of American Cinematographer. Roizman died in 2023, before he could see the published book, and I wish he’d had that opportunity. I’m grateful that Williams recorded these conversations and carried the project through.
The book is beautifully laid out. Its 328 pages and generous landscape format give the film images and production photographs room to be appreciated. There are hundreds of images, including previously unpublished photographs from Roizman’s archives. I love having this much of his work gathered together, with the opportunity to study the lighting and composition of an individual frame. His explanations of the work add another reason to spend time with those images. As a filmmaker, I’m interested in the decisions that led to a shot I admire, and in how someone with his experience approached the problems involved in getting it.
Even as a longtime admirer, I can still forget the wide range of films he photographed. THE FRENCH CONNECTION, THE EXORCIST, and THE TAKING OF PELHAM ONE TWO THREE immediately come to mind. Then there’s NETWORK with Sidney Lumet, TOOTSIE with Sydney Pollack, and films as different as THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR, GRAND CANYON, and WYATT EARP. Seeing those credits together is extraordinary. Each film has its own visual demands, and I admire how comfortably Roizman could move between them. I recognize his attention to faces, light, and composition across very different kinds of stories.
What this book does best is offer technical insight into Owen Roizman’s process and how he approached the particular demands of each film. His discussion of THE FRENCH CONNECTION is especially revealing. Coming from commercials, he describes having to rethink his instinct to give everything a polished appearance. Friedkin wanted a gritty, almost documentary quality, and Roizman approached the photography by considering the mood of each scene and how the lighting could support it. His use of soft, bounced light in practical locations offers a concrete example of the thought behind that seemingly spontaneous look.
The production stories also make the technical ingenuity behind his work tangible. For a stairwell sequence in THE EXORCIST, the crew used a suspended camera platform to follow the actors upstairs. The camera’s movement created a lighting challenge, which Roizman addressed by illuminating the space through a muslin ceiling, effectively turning the set into a large softbox. Details like this give a sense of how an ambitious shot takes shape through the combined work of the cinematographer and crew.
His accounts of NETWORK and TOOTSIE reveal other dimensions of that same adaptability. On NETWORK, he describes the images becoming increasingly formal and artificial as the story develops, while his observations about Sidney Lumet show how a director’s preparation influences the working process. On TOOTSIE, camera tests revealed how much light Hoffman’s makeup absorbed, requiring adjustments to how his face was illuminated. Across these examples, Roizman comes across as an attentive, resourceful cinematographer whose understanding of light extends to the setting, the performance, and the dramatic purpose of the image.
One of my personal favorites is THE ADDAMS FAMILY. I’ve always loved the richness of its photography, and one detail about the film stock is worth mentioning. Barry Sonnenfeld specifically asked Roizman to shoot on Kodak 5247, a slower stock, for its fine grain, saturated color, and deep blacks. Its lower sensitivity meant it needed more light than faster alternatives. Sonnenfeld also wanted Morticia lit with the glamour of a George Hurrell portrait, an idea Roizman embraced. The film’s elaborate interiors, shadows, and beautifully lit faces are a pleasure to look at. I’ve always felt that the care in the photography contributes enormously to its appeal.
I do wish the book devoted a little more space to THE ADDAMS FAMILY. I would happily have looked at more frames and read more about Roizman’s work on that production. It’s a film I love, and I’m especially interested in the collaboration between Roizman and Sonnenfeld, who had already established himself as a cinematographer before directing it.
I’ve particularly enjoyed revisiting Roizman’s work through 4K restorations. The better presentations have renewed my appreciation for his color, lighting, and the detail within his compositions. There’s so much to notice in the way he lights a face or gives a room depth. His images can be beautiful while keeping my attention firmly on the actors and the scene. I admire that judgment as much as the technical skill. He understood how much a shot needed, where the eye should go, and how the photography could carry the mood.
I also feel a personal connection to his Brooklyn roots. Roizman was born and raised there, and my mother and grandparents were from Brooklyn, too. I respond to the New York edge in his work, particularly those seventies films. The streets, apartments, offices, and subway cars feel recognizable, with their wear and rough edges intact. There’s a directness to the photography that I love. He could find a compelling image in an ordinary place and make you feel the atmosphere of it.
Reading a book like this also brings me back to the interview I wish I could have done. I would have loved to ask Roizman about THE EXORCIST and hear him discuss the work in his own words. Williams had the opportunity to record those conversations across a much broader career, and I’m glad so much of that knowledge is now available in this form. I can appreciate the effort involved in gathering the material, choosing the images, and seeing a project of this size through to publication.
OWEN ROIZMAN: LIFE BEHIND THE CAMERA is a substantial and beautiful account of an artist whose work I’ve admired for years. I would recommend it to filmmakers, cinematography students, and anyone who loves these movies and wants to understand more about how they were photographed. For fellow Roizman admirers, I consider it essential. My thanks to David E. Williams for sending me a copy to review. I’m very glad that Instagram post found its way to me.
OWEN ROIZMAN: LIFE BEHIND THE CAMERA is available directly from lifebehindthecamera.us and through the ASC Store, which also carries cinematography books and back issues of American Cinematographer.
