Sumil & Krista
A private canyon in the middle of the city. Press play, sound on.
The way it felt.
The Bel-Air Country Club is folded into a canyon a few minutes from Sunset Boulevard, and once you are inside it you would never know the city is there. Sumil and Krista's day had that quiet to it, and a lot of laughing.
It moved easily between the club's rooms and its grounds, and ended up where every film here wants to end up: out on the white suspension bridge over the ravine, with the canyon going gold behind them.
On Bel-Air Country Club.
The Bel-Air Country Club has been folded into the canyons above Sunset since 1926, when Alphonzo Bell laid out a hundred and twenty acres and George C. Thomas Jr. routed a golf course through the ravines. For a film, the appeal is the landscape: mature sycamores, steep green canyon walls, and light that comes in low and sideways at the end of the day. The club's landmark is the white suspension bridge over the ravine, and it is as good on camera as it sounds, a clean white line above all that green with room for two people and nothing else. We plan every Bel-Air Country Club wedding film around the late-afternoon light in the canyon, and around that bridge.
