Chris Evans is a Shreveport, Louisiana-based filmmaker whose latest film, “toots.” is on a festival run that has recently included the Sedona International Film Festival and El Dorado Film Festival. In the piece below he discusses the importance of sound.
The amazing Phoebe Waller-Bridge once gave me some advice (via an Instagram reel, but still): “Disarm an audience with comedy and then punch them in the gut with drama when they least expect it.” I applied it to my short film, “Toots.,” the story of a devoted son grappling with the responsibilities of caring for his aging mother with Parkinson’s.
Where’s the comedy, you ask? It lies in an extended flatulence scene that sets up a heartbreaking finish. Risky: Because the success or failure of the scene depends, in part, on the sound of the flatulence.
Folks loved the script, but you can’t hear a script. I had a strong sonic concept of how it should play out, but I didn’t know exactly how to compose it in the sound design, or communicate it to the production team.
Also Read: 11 Films of the 1940s That Are Still a Pleasure to Watch
The fart sounds you find in sound packets on the internet just don’t cut the mustard. I had a small budget of $1,500 for sound design — which we went over — and a strong sense of what the laughing/tooting scene should sound like.
‘Toots’ Director Chris Evans on the Quest for the Perfect Flatulence
Our lead actress, Pam Dougherty, was on board to play the aging mother. In Pam’s “fart scene,” her character would have a laughing fit, which would stimulate a symphony of toots meant to harmonize with her laughter, as if her diaphragm was pushing out both ends. When Pam and I talked this scene over, prior to filming, she said, “I can laugh on cue no problem. But I’m not sure I can fart on cue.” I assured her no practical flatulence was required.
First, we had to film the scene. I needed reactions from the son, played brilliantly by Logan Sledge, as well as rhythmic laughter from the mom. We wanted clean audio of her laughs without the toots, so we could add them in later. In early takes, I threw out “brrnnhh” noises, but it just didn’t work. Pam looked at me one time and said, “What does that mean?” She wasn’t used to her director speaking in onomatopoeia.
The next problem I didn’t foresee was that the sound designer needed a long time to get things perfect. I had to get placeholder audio in for the editors, and needed an edit so the composer could get to work. None of them would have the final sound design while they worked. People were really frightened. The early placeholder farting was truly cringe. At one point an editor took out the farting sounds and replaced them with music, so the viewer would see the scene and hear the laughing, but not the toots.
For a moment I thought she was onto something — maybe we wouldn’t be able to pull this off. The composer, Lucas Lechowski, was touched by the story, but understandably nervous about the heavy-handed farting that was in the edit he was working with. Lucas tried ever so subtly to ask me to dial it back. I reassured him that his instincts were in line with mine, and that I was still working on the sound design.
Enter the real hero of this story, sound designer Gregory C. Vilfranc. Gregory and I had a long talk before we agreed to work together on this, and thankfully, he also was touched by the story. We talked about ways that the farting cadence could mimic the laughing cadence.
“Is that even possible?” I asked. He answered with some very long and technical jargon that sounded like a “yes.”
We went back and forth trying to find just the right balance. Each time we would dial the farts back, or cut a couple out, or replace the position of where they landed. Everything had to sound real, not cartoony. It had to satisfy the moment in the story that symbolized a return to fonder days between the mother and the son.
The fart scene also had to set up a final scene in which the son finds the mother after she has peacefully expired in her sleep. Oof, heavy. If we didn’t get it right, this film was going to be an embarrassment. I found myself giving Gregory notes like, “They need to sound more demure” or, “They need to sound like they are slipping out instead of being pushed out” or “They need to sound more airy.”
The real magic came in this back and forth communication. I really feel like we could’ve kept fine-tuning forever, but at some point you have to call it finished. For me, that point was when the “laughing scene” elicited more of a smile than a full belly laugh. Just enough humor was perfect. Too much humor would be detrimental. A little bit of feeling sorry for the mother was perfect. Feeling grossed out would be detrimental.
The real key was when the death scene felt truly heartbreaking. It’s a magical thing how edits to a prior scene can completely change the feeling of the ensuing scene, especially when you’re not changing the ensuing scene at all. Through strong conviction and excessive communication, the right balance of sweetness and silliness was found, and a touching story of caring for each other was preserved.
Main image: Pam Dougherty and Logan Sledge in “Toots.” Courtesy of Chris Evans