S20 - Ep 1 - Avatar: The Last Airbender - Costume Design

Continuing Below the Line’s 2026 Oscar series, the conversation turns to Visual Effects — a category that sits at the intersection of technology, craft, and storytelling. This week on Below the Line, Skid is joined by Kent Seki and Chris Batty for a focused conversation about the Oscar nominees for Achievement in Visual Effects. Together, they look at how the category has evolved — and what separates technical accomplishment from storytelling impact. As with the rest of this year’s Oscar series, this episode is available both as an audio podcast and as a full video conversation on YouTube, offering listeners and viewers a closer look at how visual-effects work is discussed, debated, and evaluated from inside the process. Our discussion ranges across: The different creative demands of large-scale spectacle versus realism-driven effects How films like Avatar: Fire and Ash and Jurassic World Rebirth approach scale and world-building, compared to the grounded physical environments of F1 and The Lost Bus The challenge of integrating effects into performances, locations, and production design without overwhelming the story Why elements like fire, debris, and destruction require as much restraint as technical precision How visual effects intersect with cinematography, editorial, and sound to maintain continuity and tone The increasing expectation that effects choices support narrative clarity rather than novelty What this year’s nominees suggest about how the Academy continues to define excellence in the field Rather than focusing on predictions, the conversation looks at how visual effects decisions are made — and how those choices shape tone, performance, and story across very different kinds of films. 🎧 Press play — or watch the full conversation on YouTube — and join us Below the Line as the 2026 Oscar series continues. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

As the 98th Academy Awards approach, Below the Line returns for its seventh annual Oscar series — beginning with Film Editing, a category that quietly shapes every other craft recognized on Oscar night. This week on Below the Line, Skid is joined by Amy Duddleston and Christopher Angel to open the 2026 Oscar series with a focused conversation about the nominees for Achievement in Film Editing. Together, they examine how editing choices shape performance, tone, and point of view — and why the category can be difficult to evaluate without understanding what the work actually requires. This episode also marks a first for Below the Line: these Oscar conversations are now available both as an audio podcast and as full video episodes on YouTube, offering listeners the choice to watch the discussion unfold or continue enjoying the show in its traditional audio format. Our discussion ranges across: Why Film Editing is often misunderstood as “most editing” rather than best judgment The distinct editorial challenges behind this year’s nominees, including F1, Marty Supreme, One Battle After Another, Sentimental Value, and Sinners How performance-driven films ask editors to prioritize restraint over visibility The editor’s role in shaping character psychology and audience alignment When cutting calls attention to itself — and when disappearing is the hardest choice Navigating collaboration with directors whose approaches range from highly controlled to deliberately chaotic What this year’s nominees reveal about how the Academy continues to define the craft Grounded in the perspective of two working editors, the conversation focuses less on prediction and more on process — unpacking how editing decisions actually function on screen, and why the craft remains essential even when it goes unnoticed. 🎧 Press play — or watch the full conversation on YouTube — and join us Below the Line as we begin our 2026 Oscar series. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

Designing for television isn’t just about building sets — it’s about knowing when to preserve them, when to break them, and how to let them evolve over time. On Slow Horses, that long view shapes every creative decision. This week on Below the Line, Skid is joined by Production Designer Choi Ho Man, with Gianni Damaia returning as co-host, to talk about the fifth season of Slow Horses, the Apple TV+ espionage series starring Gary Oldman. Choi traces her journey on the show from supervising art director to production designer, and how designing across multiple seasons requires long-term thinking, flexibility, and restraint. We take a deep dive into: How Slow Horses was designed as a rolling, multi-season project, shooting in pairs of seasons with overlapping crews and compressed turnaround times The evolution of Slough House itself, including how destruction at the end of Season Four informed the repaired, modernized, and slightly haunted version seen in Season Five Designing spaces that reflect character psychology, from Lamb’s office to Ho’s flat Building and rebuilding modular sets — lifts, car parks, corridors, offices — to stretch resources while preserving visual continuity Developing MI5 Headquarters (“The Park”) as a recurring environment, mapping unseen spaces to make the building feel architecturally complete Stitching together complex action sequences from multiple locations and stage builds, including chase scenes, stairwells, and exterior-to-interior transitions How practical construction, visual effects, and stunt coordination intersect on large-scale action sequences involving paint, height, and confined spaces Why face-to-face collaboration still matters, including sketches, models, and conversations that can’t be replaced by emails or message threads Across five seasons, Slow Horses proves that production design isn’t just about creating spaces — it’s about letting those spaces absorb history, pressure, and consequence, until the environment itself becomes part of the story. 🎧 Press play and go Below the Line on Slow Horses. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

The stranger The Chair Company gets, the more seriously it has to be treated. Nothing about the show tells the audience when to laugh — its world looks ordinary, its people feel real, and that restraint is exactly what lets the absurdity land. This week on Below the Line, Skid is joined by Costume Designer Nicky Smith and Cinematographer Ashley Connor to discuss their work on The Chair Company, the HBO series created by Tim Robinson and Zach Kanin. Together, they break down how a show rooted in off-kilter comedy relies on rigorous visual logic — from wardrobe and camera movement to pacing, texture, and point of view — to maintain its delicate tonal balance. Our conversation ranges across: Treating the series like a grounded crime or conspiracy drama, using mundane wardrobe and restrained visuals to make moments of surrealism hit harder Ashley’s cinematography approach: anchoring the camera to Ron’s emotional journey, using aggressive dollies, zooms, and imperfect movement to mirror his unraveling Nicky’s costume philosophy of thrifted, worn-in clothing — washing, distressing, and avoiding “newness” so characters feel unmistakably real Designing visual normalcy as misdirection, allowing sudden tonal shifts to surprise the audience without breaking the world of the show The evolving production scale from pilot to series, and how departments learned to stretch limited resources into something that feels expansive Building key sequences like the Episode Five bar chase and the Episode Eight wedding — where every department had to stay in sync to manage the chaos How casting, body types, and costume choices avoid stereotypes, creating a workplace and social world that feels genuinely lived-in Setting up Season Two without knowing the destination — trusting Tim Robinson and Zach Kanin’s writing while embracing uncertainty Rather than signaling comedy through exaggeration, The Chair Company finds its power in restraint — proving that the stranger a story becomes, the more important it is that every visual choice feels honest, deliberate, and grounded in character. 🎧 Press play and go Below the Line on The Chair Company. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

Why do people who’ve spent their careers in the trenches of production take everything they’ve learned on set and turn it into something as quiet and lasting as a book? In this episode of Below the Line, three authors with deep roots in the industry talk about translating lived experience into storytelling on the page. This week on Below the Line, Skid is joined by Melanie Ragone, Key Grip and author of Below the Line: A Film Crew Survival Guide; Rob Spera, director, teacher, and author of the Film/TV Director’s Field Manual: Seventy Maxims to Change Your Filmmaking; and Ken Levin, longtime Property Master and author of the satirical novel Great Exploitations – A Hollywood Fable. Together, they compare notes on why they wrote their books, how decades inside the industry shaped them as authors, and what they hope readers take away — whether they work on set or simply love the stories it produces. On the page and behind the scenes, we talk about: How each book grew out of real experience: Melanie’s trial-by-fire years as a first-generation filmmaker and grip, Rob’s four decades directing and teaching, and Ken’s time in commercials, kids’ TV, and beyond The shared belief that film sets are communities, not dictatorships — and why Rob rejects auteur theory in favor of leadership that listens, thanks, and makes room for crew voices Melanie’s “love letter to crew”: honest advice about long hours, mental and physical strain, and why gratitude and basic respect from above the line can change an entire day on set Ken’s choice to write fiction as a way to tell the truth about Hollywood’s brutality, absurdity, and mutual exploitation — especially for those working below the line The changing economics of the industry: shorter seasons, longer gaps between shows, and why all three guests stress diversifying skills, planning ahead, and learning when (and how) to pivot Different publishing paths — from querying hundreds of agents to choosing self-publishing for speed and creative control — and what it really takes to market a niche industry book Who these books are for: new crew trying to survive their first shows, directors and producers who want a clearer picture of below-the-line life, and readers who just want to understand what really happens behind the camera What’s next: Melanie’s push toward showrunning and television writing, Rob’s continuing work as a teacher and documentary filmmaker, and Ken’s “second career” as a novelist, including aviation-themed projects waiting in the wings At its heart, this conversation is about survival, adaptation, and generosity — three industry veterans turning hard-won lessons into something that can outlast a single job, a single season, or even a single career. 🎧 Press play and go Below the Line with three storytellers who took their experience to the page. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

What happens when filmmaking becomes a marathon of collaboration — spanning years, thousands of shots, and the world of Oz itself? For Wicked: For Good, that was the daily reality for Film Editor Myron Kerstein and Visual Effects Supervisor Pablo Helman. This week on Below the Line, Skid welcomes back Myron Kerstein and introduces Pablo Helman, who makes his Below the Line debut to discuss their shared journey on Wicked: For Good, the sequel to Jon M. Chu’s Wicked. Together, they reflect on what it means to sustain creative momentum through two interconnected films and the largest project of their careers. This episode unpacks: Building a years-long partnership between editorial and visual effects — and learning to “finish each other’s sentences” after thousands of hours together Integrating production, post, and VFX pipelines from the earliest days of Wicked through the sequel’s final render Designing the epic opening battle on the Yellow Brick Road, where performance, camera, and creature animation all converge Navigating Jon M. Chu’s collaborative process — a director who, as Myron puts it, is “a collector of people” and thrives on creative dialogue Crafting the technically complex “Girl in the Bubble” sequence — eight stitched plates, multiple reflections, and a seamless illusion that tested every department’s trust Refining the “No Good Deed” sequence — balancing raw emotion, musical rhythm, and visual effects spectacle Intercutting Glinda’s wedding with the imprisoned creatures to heighten tension and emotional contrast across parallel storylines How small creative choices — like a cape’s weight, a confetti storm, or a single flash of red sky — became storytelling tools in the hands of two artists who speak the same cinematic language What emerges is a portrait of collaboration under pressure — one built on mutual respect, relentless curiosity, and a shared belief that every frame, no matter how fantastical, should feel grounded and human. 🎧 Press play and go Below the Line on Wicked: For Good. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

Before there were military consultants on movie sets, there were officers like Jon McBride — servicemen who understood how stories shape public perception. On this Veterans Day episode of Below the Line, we look at how the Navy’s storytellers helped connect the worlds of service and cinema. This week, Skid is joined by Jon McBride, a former U.S. Navy officer whose service from 1964 to 1968 led him from the deck of the USS Kitty Hawk to the Navy’s Public Affairs Office in Hollywood — bridging two worlds that rarely meet but often influence one another. We explore: Jon’s path from Yale graduate to Naval officer during the Vietnam War era, and how chance and persistence steered him toward public affairs Life aboard the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk, where he volunteered for the ship’s public information role — discovering a talent for storytelling under pressure How a Pentagon connection set Jon on the path to Hollywood, joining the Navy’s West Coast Public Affairs Office on Sunset Boulevard The Navy’s relationship with the film industry — reviewing scripts, assigning project officers, and shaping depictions of sailors on screen Behind-the-scenes memories from Operation: Entertainment, Yours, Mine and Ours, and an unexpected day serving as Dionne Warwick’s “agent” Encounters with Ray Charles, the Blue Angels, and the surreal overlap between show business and service How McBride’s later work with the grassroots Beyond War movement reframed his understanding of conflict and communication Episodes like this one reflect a recurring theme for Below the Line — the shared discipline, teamwork, and creative purpose that link filmmaking and military service. Jon’s story captures that connection with humor, humility, and a deep sense of how storytelling itself can serve a mission. 🎧 Press play and go Below the Line for a Veterans Day conversation that spans from the bridge of the Kitty Hawk to the backlots of Hollywood. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

What does it take to build a world that feels as authentic as the people it represents? On The Lowdown, that meant storytelling rooted in place — and departments working in harmony. This week on Below the Line, Skid welcomes Makeup Department Head Sharon Tabb and Production Designer Brandon Tonner-Connolly, who reunite after three seasons of Reservation Dogs to discuss their latest collaboration with creator Sterlin Harjo on the FX series The Lowdown, starring Ethan Hawke. The discussion covers: Continuing the collaborative spirit from Reservation Dogs — and how Sterlin Harjo’s leadership fosters creativity and respect across the crew Finding shared visual language between makeup and production design — creating a lived-in aesthetic that balances grit, texture, and humanity Designing the show’s Tulsa block from the ground up, building interconnected sets like Hoot Owl Books, Sweet Emily’s Diner, and nearby stores into one functioning neighborhood Layering authenticity through local artists and real community involvement, from murals and set dressing to tattoo design Bringing lived experience into the work — honoring real figures like journalist Lee Roy Chapman while telling a fictionalized story of truth-seekers and corruption Sharon’s approach to Ethan Hawke’s tattoos and makeup continuity, balancing realism with subtle symbolism — and a few Easter eggs for sharp-eyed viewers Brandon’s creation of Sweet Emily’s Diner, complete with custom wallpaper that pays tribute to Reservation Dogs in the most unexpected way Coordinating large-scale sequences like the cop party “oner” that concludes Episode Five — blending chaos, choreography, and cinematic precision Together, Sharon and Brandon reveal how every bruise, tattoo, and weathered wall becomes part of a larger visual story — one built from collaboration, trust, and craft in sync. 🎧 Press play and go Below the Line on The Lowdown. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

What does it mean to edit a sports horror film that blurs the line between spectacle and nightmare? For Taylor Mason, the answer was finding the rhythm that carried HIM through its shifting tones. This week on Below the Line, Skid is joined by Film Editor Taylor Mason to discuss her work on the Universal/Monkeypaw feature HIM, directed by Justin Tipping and starring Tyriq Withers and Marlon Wayans. Joining the conversation is Christopher Angel, a regular guest and co-host of the podcast, who adds his editorial perspective. The conversation cuts across: Building Taylor’s creative partnership with director Justin Tipping, which began during their AFI collaborations Taylor’s career arc through high-end assistant editing (e.g. Blade Runner 2049, Dune) before making the jump to feature editing Shaping HIM’s hybrid genre — balancing horror, satire, and sports narrative in the edit room Sculpting tone shifts, from unnerving silence to explosive sequences, while keeping character central Using helmet POVs, flash cuts, and hallucinatory visuals to plunge the viewer into the chaos of football Integrating VFX and x-ray sequences to reflect Cam’s physical deterioration and internal collapse Bringing personal resonance to the material, informed by her father’s NFL legacy and her own complicated relationship with the sport Cutting the film’s finale — a climax that threads horror, absurdism, and social critique In the end, it’s rhythm that defines Taylor’s edit — balancing precision and chaos in a story that’s both savage and deeply human. 🎧 Press play and go Below the Line on HIM. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.

How do you design a world that honors Hawaiian history while telling a story on a global stage? For Production Designer Jean-François Campeau, the answer was equal parts creativity, cultural respect, and collaboration. This week on Below the Line, Skid is joined by Jean-François “JF” Campeau, Production Designer of Chief of War, the Apple TV+ historical drama starring Jason Momoa. Two special guests from the Smithsonian Institution add their perspectives: Kalewa Correa, Curator of Hawaiʻi and the Pacific at the Smithsonian Asian Pacific American Center, and Halena Kapuni-Reynolds, Associate Curator of Native Hawaiian History and Culture at the National Museum of the American Indian. We cover: JF’s first reaction to the project — both inspired and intimidated by the cultural weight of the story Research at the Bishop Museum and working closely with Hawaiian and Māori cultural advisors to ground the sets in authenticity Constructing major builds like temples, strongholds, and the bone tower — with blessings and protocols woven into the process Carving sacred objects from authentic materials, including shipping an ʻōhiʻa tree from Hawai‘i to New Zealand for sculpting Collaborating with Pacific artisans on woven mats, sails, and canoes that carried both cultural and cinematic weight Blending Hawaiian and New Zealand landscapes, balancing cultural similarities with visual continuity challenges Jason Momoa’s insistence on filming battle sequences on real Hawaiian lava fields — including a shoot delayed by Mauna Loa’s eruption Capturing the gravity of historically significant moments, like the Olowalu massacre carried out under Captain Simon Metcalfe, with sensitivity to sacred ground JF’s personal reflections on how the project changed him, and the values he carried forward from working alongside Native Hawaiian and Māori communities The conversation also touches on recommended resources for further learning, including Ke Kumu Aupuni: The Foundation of Hawaiian Nationhood by Samuel Kamaka and Fragments of Hawaiian History by John Papa Iʻi, suggested by our Smithsonian co-hosts. Through every set, carving and detail, Chief of War builds a conversation between past and present — one that honors place, people, and story alike. 🎧 Press play and go Below the Line on Chief of War. For more, visit belowtheline.biz.