American Cinematographer - December 2007 - 74

Promise Fulfilled Richard “Aggie” Aguilar (right) served as Kovacs’ gaffer on nearly 50 feature films. Here, the pair pose for a photo on the set of Paper Moon (1973), directed by Bogdanovich. “Aggie and I grew up in that school where you have to make magic with practically nothing,” Kovacs said. tions rich with emotional subtext. He also became adept at filming with a zoom lens from a moving vehicle, a skill that lent dynamic energy to Easy Rider’s motorcycle sequences and left a lasting impression on director Dennis Hopper. “Laszlo is the greatest telephoto lens operator in the world,” Hopper told AC. “All of the shots using the telephoto on the rides are pure Laszlo magic.” Kovacs lent similar grace notes to many other films. In Five Easy Pieces, directed by Bob Rafelson, he captured a masterful pan that sums up the movie’s theme of untapped potential and broken relationships. The shot begins on the hands of once-promising pianist Bobby Dupea (Jack Nicholson) as he plays a tune for a female admirer (Susan Anspach) in his father’s home. “That shot gives the illusion of a 360-degree pan, which it wasn’t — it was really only 180 degrees,” Kovacs told AC (Jan. ’05). We start on Jack’s hands so we know that he’s playing, and then pan up slowly to his face. Jack didn’t play the piano — he learned about five different chords — and that was the signal for me to start leaving his hands and come up to his face. I then moved to Susan’s hand tapping the rhythm, and then up to her face — [we shot 74 December 2007 her as an] idealized, backlit, gorgeous woman. After that, the camera just keeps going and discovers the wall, and there you see photographs of the family. As the piano music continues, we show the whole history of these people in the pictures, [which] beautifully establishes their relationships.” This kind of cinematic thinking served Kovacs well over the course of his career, during which he demonstrated not only virtuosity and versatility, but also affability and a keen understanding of people. Summing up his importance, Marek Zydowicz, founder and director of Camerimage, offers, “Even during the Cold War, student filmmakers in Eastern Europe followed Laszlo’s work and hoped they would someday be able to follow in his footsteps. He was a source of inspiration for students and young filmmakers everywhere in the world. His life proved that with talent and determination, anything is possible.” A memorial for Kovacs was held in August at a packed ASC Clubhouse, where many friends and collaborators paid tribute to his skill, warmth and savoir-faire. Finding solace in this familial embrace were Kovacs’ wife, Audrey, and his daughters, Julianna and Nadia. On Oct. 15, a Kovacs tribute was hosted by Hungary’s Los Angeles Consulate General at Raleigh Studios in Hollywood, where the consul general, Balåzs Bokor, said, “Laszlo Kovacs gave an example to all of us: how to preserve his original Hungarian identity and still be of service to his new homeland. We have an obligation to keep the memory of this great Hungarian-American alive, to pay a continuous tribute to him, to his life achievement. We are proud of him and [must] contribute to raising Laszlo Kovacs’ flag high.” Following are reminiscences and observations from some of Kovacs’ collaborators and colleagues. Gaffer Richmond “Aggie” Aguilar, who worked with Kovacs on nearly 50 films, beginning with A Man Called Dagger: The early, low-budget films we did together were really our schooling, in that you had to make do with what you had and use your imagination. As far as Laszlo was concerned, there were no cheap pictures — cheap budgets, yes, but no cheap pictures. Every shot was worthwhile and a learning experience. He was a good man to work with both technically and artistically, which is rare. He gave you technical reasons for answers, not just opinion. He went to the trouble to find out not only what worked but why it worked. His philosophy was do the very best you can with what you have; if you didn’t try, he had no patience for you. Cinematography was in Laszlo’s soul. He came in when there were radical changes in film speed, lights, and all kinds of other gear, but he never went overboard with new equipment. He did what was best for each picture. People say he didn’t have a signature style, but I think his lighting was one of his (continued on page 76)

American Cinematographer - December 2007

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of American Cinematographer - December 2007