A slate/clapboard provides information about each take that is filmed. When the footage is sent off to the editing room, the slate shows the editor which video clips are what. It also provides information that is helpful if scenes need to be re-shot. Below is the what information a slate provides and how each section is filled out.

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This isn't La La Land. This is barely Hollywood. This is a less than magical world full of sexism, racism, egoism, hazardous locations and excess waste. This is a film set.

Rachel works as a 1st AC, also known as a focus puller. Nobody outside of the film industry really knows what that means. Her grandpa still thinks she “‘makes movies”, but she really only works on commercials, music videos and web content. When somebody asks what she does, she says “I’m a camera operator” but she's definitely not a camera operator. When somebody shows genuine interest, she says “you know when you turn the focus ring on a dslr camera? That's what I do, but with moving videos.” But that's still a lie.

A camera team is like the movement of a thousand little gears with a million little teeth chattering away until the off button is pushed at the end of a long twelve hour day. Some days they work flawlessly, ever turning, never speaking, but communicating perfectly. Other days they squeak and grind and at some point, one gear even turns the wrong way. But anybody could say that about their job, right? The thing about pulling focus is that the gears are a literal metaphor. There is a little motor on the lens with a gear that turns the focus ring. If that gear slips or turns at the wrong speed or is set to the wrong torque, Rachel is fucked.

Not to mention, the thousand other little gears and screws and brackets and rods and clamps and noga arms could break or slip or loosen at any moment, and often they do and often Rachel fixes them before anyone notices because her job is also to be invisible. However, that is just the hardware. Rachel barely worries about the hardware because first and foremost she is making sure that the camera is set to the right resolution and frame rate and shutter speed and f-stop and ISO and codec and time code and audio level. On top of that, she’s eavesdropping on the DP’s conversation so that she knows what lens he wants mounted before he asks. She also sets a user button for the waveform to double check the exposure and offers up an ND filter if needed. Through all this, she keeps an eye on battery and media percentage, and changes them when they get low, with the help of a 2nd AC. But if the 2nd AC ever fucks up, Rachel will take the blame, so her eye constantly darts back to those percentages, ever worrying, ever stressing.

Once the camera is mounted, Rachel remembers (well, she never forgot in the first place) that she also oversees the setup of director, client and focus monitors, wireless video to all of the above, a battery charging station, and even sometimes the downloading of media. She heads over to double check that all video signals are stable.

“Focus focus focus focus focus!!” She hears the 26-year old director shouting into his monitor and turns on her heel, sprinting back to her focus station. The goddamn DP started to frame up the moment Rachel walked away. She grabs her remote follow focus and glances at the actor. He is about 8’6” from the camera - no time to measure now. She sets her follow focus to 8’6” and speed walks to her focus monitor to double check that the actor is sharp. Fuck, he leaned three inches forward while she was walking. He is still soft and the director looks grumpy. She adjusts her follow focus and glances back and forth between the camera, actor and her monitor, ever adjusting the little knob on her follow focus to keep the actor in focus. The camera pushes forward on the dolly. Fuck! Now she has to measure the distance the camera is moving PLUS the distance the actor is moving and all without a measuring tape because the DP has pressed “roll” without warning and all of a sudden this isn't a rehearsal anymore.

The assistant director calls cut and the DP shouts, “need another one for focus!” and avoids eye contact. The 2nd AC looks over apologetically. The actor sighs and mumbles, “need a bathroom break.” As he walks by Rachel he makes eye contact and says, “hey honey.” Rachel blushes but not because she likes it. She's sick and tired of being called honey and sweetie on set, but she keeps her mouth shut because she wants to be hired again.

Rachel quickly hops up to grab measurements and marks while they pause. She weaves her way around the male DP, the male director, the male sound guys, and the male grips and electrics. They all take up so much fucking room and nobody moves out of her way. She wonders if she was only hired because the DP thinks she’s pretty.

She pulls out her four hundred dollar Hilti laser distance measure, one of the many expensive tools she is expected to own of her own accord. The male producer once again denied her a kit fee, so she’s renting it for free.

As she works, she feels a light tap on her shoulder. She glances to the opposite side, expecting a grip to be playing a trick on her. To her surprise, it's the only other woman on set.

“Hey! I'm Jenny, the script supervisor. Nice job earlier today!”

Rachel frowns and responds, “thanks, but that last shot sucked.”

“Yeah, but that asshole director didn't even give you a rehearsal. And I'm serious! I didn't have to mark down “bad focus” for anything in that dog scene earlier. That was amazing!”

“Thanks Jenny,” Rachel replies. As Jenny walks back to her giant note-taking binder, Rachel remembers that she actually likes her job. She just has to stop viewing it through the male gaze. She smiles and relaxes for a moment.

Being a second AC is definitely a great front row seat to watch great people at work. 

The delicate art of correctly slating. Probably one of the main jobs of the 2nd AC, as well as assisting in lens/battery changes, camera set ups, mag loading and (potentially) Data wrangling. I like to keep a whiteboard marker taped to the back of my slate for ease of use, and also because I lose things a lot. When working on film, I also like to tape a pen, and the camera report sheets to the back of the slate to allow for a quick reset.

There are a few sections consistent on every slate

Production: The name or title of the movie

Roll: The Rolls/Memory card number you’re on

Scene: The scene number/shot 

Take: The current take of the shot

Director: Name of the Director

Camera: Name of the DOP/cinematographer of the production

Date: The month, day, and year that you’re shooting

(Optional) Timecode: Digital timecode synced to the audio

Production: Can be the real/nickname/working title of the film. 

Roll: Roll can be tricky in Film vs Digital. In the film world it refers to literally the number of the new roll whenever a mag is changed over. With Digital productions, I like to treat every new memory card as a new roll. I usually slate it as “A001″, with the A corresponding to the A Camera

Scene: On my personal slate, I have drawn a line down the middle of this section to allow for keeping the ‘scene’ number and ‘shot’ number separate. This way, there is a clear distinction between the two so that the editor can match up scene/shot numbers with the DOP’s shot list for ease of editing. I usually refer to the 1st AD or script supervisor for shot numbers. 

Take: It’s important to remember that the next take is only when the camera cuts; as sometimes (should there be an actor’s mistake or a bit of continuity error spotted just too late) the director can just call for a reset of the scene, without the camera cutting. 

Names/Dates/Etc: Pretty self explanatory - just try not to misspell the director or cinematographer’s names. There’s usually a callsheet floating around with the correct spelling on it. 

Unique Slating Scenarios;

Mos: Should the scene be Mute On Sound (MOS), I usually put a finger or whole hand in between the sticks to signal to the editor that there is definitely no sound to be synced for this shot/take. 

Second Sticks: Should the DOP have not have rolled while you had clapped, nor your clap been loud enough for the sound recordist to hear, they will ask you to call “Second Sticks” which basically means clapping again, firmly, loudly, and doing whatever you need to do quickly and getting the hell out of there. 

Soft Sticks/Loud Sticks: Sometimes the sound recordist will be far away (necessitating a louder clap), or the clapper particularly close to an actors face, in which case it is necessary to call “soft sticks” after your usual call of the slate to signify to the editor that this take was close to an actors face and therefore softer than usual.