Nathan
Hong
Fisher*

Where did the idea come from?

When I interviewed for the job, I talked about building a recurring documentary series in-house, like Hard Knocks but fitting the Seahawks identity. Before my second season, we were suddenly given the access to make it, with almost no pre-production and no title. My managing producer and I experimented our way through a first season of 10 episodes, with two cinematographers.

How did it get made?

I cut the first two seasons as lead editor, then moved to creative producer. That let the series grow in scale and scope: editing in segments with a larger team, and a back end that runs on a schedule, from interview booking through voiceover.

It felt like upgrading to a bigger vehicle, one that takes all hands on deck.

The production standards I wrote started with a three-cut rule:

Before that, revisions could get to version seven, or seventeen. Three cuts made us more intentional from pre-production on.

What happened?

When budgeting season rolled around, The Sound was eating up a lot of department resources, and there was a thought that it was cannibalizing content we used to make for other in-house teams.

Through a four-game losing streak in season two, our fans started to disconnect from our content. The Sound kept its audience, and made its own case for renewal.

Season one also earned the team's first Northwest Emmy nomination for work made fully in-house. We didn't win, but the consistent nominations since are proof we've built something lasting.

What carried forward?

Our department has grown, and 75% or more of our video capture now goes toward The Sound and our other tentpole series. The show has grown much closer to Hard Knocks in tone and style, and it changed how we cover games. All Access and Mic'd Up already tell the game story, so The Sound became the players' look back at why the moments on the field mattered.

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Where did the idea come from?

The brief was a companion to The Sound, which had the regular season and playoffs covered. This one would take the offseason.

I'd been looking for a way to pair orchestral music with football, a good play on movement and the search for perfection. Our general manager, John Schneider, is at the center of building the team, so he became the conductor and the team became the orchestra. Not a lens we'd put on a football story before.

The title plays on the noise of the 12s, a central pillar of the Seahawks brand, and on The Sound and Puget Sound. It was a win the moment I said it. The 1950s look needed proof, so I made a cold open for Episode 1.

Who do we want to watch this?

Fans who track every signing, and people who've never thought about what a scout does.

The second group was the reach. The “violent chess” side of the game turns some people off, so we leaned on the strategy and the supporting characters instead of the mythical talent on the field. The cost was losing some die-hard X's and O's fans.

How did it get made?

New shows here run on a prove-it model: get the concept working on a shoestring, then ask for more next season. We had real access for interviews and MOS b-roll in sensitive locations, and paired it with the coverage we already shoot at the Combine, the draft, Media Day and training camp.

The fight in the edit was keeping the 1950s footage.

I wanted it visually interesting without relying on game footage and play calls.

What happened?

Episode 1 was nominated for a Northwest Emmy, and it was part of the work behind my craft nomination for editing that year.

It opened high, it held, and still over-performs for a series released in the offseason. The series lives on, just without much of the educational film or the orchestra in it.

How did it get made?

The art department was 12 people across two units, one in Los Angeles and one in New York. Every set started as a concept board, with reference photos and a palette for the period: a 1940 movie theater, offices from the 1940s to the 1990s, Stan Lee's office, a comic shop basement and a bunker.

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Where did the idea come from?

Heaven had to look like somewhere Dick would actually want to go. The idea was for it to be over-saturated with texture.

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How did it get made?

Two builds, heaven and hell, on a soundstage in Brooklyn. About three months of design and fabrication, then three days to load in, build, dress and light, and three days to shoot.

What happened?

It played Sundance in 2020, then made the Academy Award short list on Netflix.

Where did the idea come from?

An elderly couple make a choice about what happens when they die, but the decision to preserve their brains doesn't go as planned.

The story starts with a couple who've already had a full life together. Gayle and Bennet are at the end of it, and they decide to try to keep going, together, through technology.

The logline and pages from the 2018 production proposal, which won the GiGadgets grant.

What did we have to work with?

The proposal said it up front: the film would draw from theatrical set design, and build its locations out of modular set pieces, lighting, projections and a chorus of performers moving the world around Bennet and Gayle. We had one black box studio and the grant.

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What happened?

Official selection at Otherworlds and FilmQuest in 2019, where it was nominated for Best Sci-Fi Short.

How did it get made?

We shot seven episodes in 13 days, with a producing team of two and more than 20 artists from the tri-state area. I co-created it, wrote it, directed it and designed it, and on a digital budget most of the job is knowing which of those roles gets your attention on which day.

Game night, and one of the genres it turns into.

What happened?

We were accepted to a panel at PAX Unplugged in 2017. That September we built a deck for season two, with a seven-episode arc and a roadmap to a premiere at PAX Unplugged in November 2018. Season two wasn't made.

From the season two deck, September 2017.