He is followed by his faithful retainer, who canters along behind him on foot, clapping two coconut shells together to make the clip-clop sound of a horse's hooves. The Foley artist is the person in the post-production sound-recording studio who actually clopped the shells in front of a microphone to record that sound onto the film's sound track. He or she also makes the sounds of footsteps, the slide into third, the thud of a body slamming into a wall and the like.
The quintessential Foley artist story comes from the @Brian @DePalma film, "The @Untouchables," where we see @Robert De @Niro as @Al @Capone whack somebody on the head with a baseball bat. So how do you create a sound to match the visual, and make it believable, without actually doing someone bodily harm? After many experiments and many failures, the Foley artist found the right tools: a bowling pin hitting a raw turkey. You could try it yourself.
Almost all end credits, and the order in which they appear, have been settled for years by union contract and general industry convention. When there are massive amounts of special effects, as in the 1997 film, "@Titanic," the credits can run for what seems like hours. You and I are not expected to stay for them, but people in the business need to claim proper credit for whatever they did on a film, and end credits are the only thing they have to point to as an acknowledgment of their work.
And now we come to the stars' credits, especially the ones you see in newspaper ads. This is a world so difficult, so overloaded with the sight and sound of certain egos crashing toward oblivion while others ascend to heaven, that for a while in the 1980s it created a whole new cottage industry of movie ad credit designers. Let's start with what we may for the sake of argument call the "good old days," which we'll call any time prior to 1970.
