The Six Rules – A Detailed Look at Walter Murch’s Editing Method

Directors and cinematographers shoot with clear intent. They choose camera techniques based on the tone or emotion the story aims to convey. Of course, they aren’t the only ones making key choices. The editor’s decisions are crucial to the success or failure of a film. The editor’s job is to shape every scene and every shot so they land just right, ultimately bringing out the emotional truth of the story. This is anything but easy. To ease that pressure, Oscar-winning editor Walter Murch proposed some practical techniques. In his book In the Blink of an Eye, Walter Murch lays out his “Rule of Six,” discussing six elements that make for great editing.

This article looks at what these “rules” are and how they’re used in film.

The Rule of Six

In the “Rule of Six” chapter of Walter Murch’s In the Blink of an Eye, he explores how to achieve the best possible cut. Murch argues that six elements are required for a successful cut. He explains them in order of importance, which we’ve listed below.

• Cut for emotion
• Cut for story
• Rhythm
• Eye-trace
• Two-dimensional plane of the screen
• Three-dimensional space of action

We’ll zoom in on each one. It’s worth noting that Murch doesn’t think all these rules can—or should—be applied simultaneously. He suggests using this list as a basic standard for editing.

1. Cut for Emotion

Let’s start with his first rule—emotion—which accounts for more than 50% of what makes a good cut.

What does Murch mean by emotion?

A good way to understand this is to ask yourself: at this moment, what emotional effect will this cut have on the audience?

This rule isn’t about forcing the audience to feel sad in one shot and happy in another; it’s more about the overall feeling of the film.

Its tone.

Does your cut achieve the overall emotional tone or feeling you’re aiming for?

Does this transition or cut fit with the film’s overarching emotional experience? By “overall emotional experience,” we mean the atmosphere or tone you’re creating. If you want that tone to remain consistent, then your cuts and transitions should support it.

Let’s clarify this with an example.

If we look back at one of Walter Murch’s editing masterpieces, The Godfather, we see that Michael initially has no interest in the family way of life. But in the famous restaurant scene, he faces a serious challenge—Sollozzo. The fear that Sollozzo may have tried to kill Michael’s father creates a dark, unpredictable atmosphere for that scene and for the film as a whole. Let’s see how Murch uses editing to support that emotional atmosphere.

Although this article doesn’t dive deep into sound editing, it’s a crucial element when you’re cutting with emotional tone in mind.

Watch what happens:

Michael goes into the bathroom and pulls a hidden gun from behind the toilet tank.

He’s about to leave, but suddenly stops and holds his head in his hands.

An anxious Michael

He’s stalling, and we can feel his fear.

He waits there, tense. Suddenly, we hear the distant rumble of a train, growing closer.

And louder.

Michael waiting

The footage intercuts with shots of McCluskey looking toward the bathroom.

This serves two purposes.

First, it builds tension and makes us wonder whether the two men will follow him into the bathroom.

Second, it makes the audience feel as if we’re inside Michael’s mind.

At that critical moment of thought, the train sound kicks in, and the way it’s cut perfectly expresses his inner turmoil.

We go back out with Michael to face reality, not knowing what he’ll decide.

The film’s dark, unpredictable mood works hand in hand with Murch’s choice to use the sound that Michael “hears” in his head as a cutting device. Cutting back and forth between the bathroom and the two men looking toward it is also a powerful way to capture the intensity of that moment.

“As an editor, you have to stay with that emotional pulse. And really… never let it go.”
— Walter Murch

Director Francis Ford Coppola and editor Walter Murch work together brilliantly here. Before Michael shoots the two men, the camera slowly zooms in, while the train sound grows louder and louder.

At the loudest point, Michael pulls the trigger.

Right after the shots, Murch cuts the train noise completely. Michael has made his decision. There’s no more noise in his head—he is now destined to become the Godfather.

2. Cut for Story

Walter Murch’s second rule—does the cut advance the story?

Do your cuts and transitions make a meaningful contribution to the narrative? As an editor, whatever choices you make, are you constantly keeping the story itself in mind?

What do we mean by “story”? Story is what the film is really about.

Try not to confuse plot with story.

For example, in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, the plot is: Joel decides to erase his memories because his ex-girlfriend erased him first.

But what is the story really about?

Erasing pain also erases love.

Every choice in the film leads us to that realization.

The decision to use a non-linear structure plays a huge role in driving the story.

Scrambling the order of scenes intensifies the disorientation caused by the protagonist’s memory loss.

At the same time, for most of the film, we move through Joel’s memories as they’re erased—from his most recent memories back to his first meeting with Clementine.

Because painful memories usually happen toward the end of a relationship, those are erased first. By the time we get back to the beginning of their relationship, we rediscover, along with Joel, how beautiful their love once was.

Once he realizes this, Joel decides to stop the procedure.

He no longer wants to erase the love they shared. The reverse structure powerfully pushes the story forward and deepens its emotional impact.

Joel’s beautiful memories

Filmmakers and storytellers all face the same problem: how to let go of what doesn’t serve the story. Letting go of material that doesn’t help the story can be difficult and even emotional.

Once we fall in love with a scene or a line, cutting it becomes a real challenge. This “killing your darlings” idea is something all creatives face—and it may be the most important challenge of all.

Originally, the script for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind included Joel’s ex-girlfriend Naomi as an onscreen character.

Cutting her entirely actually strengthens the film’s theme.

The film is clearly about memory and how we remember our past—good and bad. Naomi existing only in memory keeps her firmly in his past, but also sets the stage for his future and the kind of woman he longs for—Clementine: wild and unpredictable, in sharp contrast to the “well-behaved” Naomi.

Removing Naomi’s scenes also keeps the focus on Joel and Clementine. The audience isn’t distracted by “what ifs” or made to feel guilty about Naomi. As viewers, we have just one hope: that Joel and Clementine get back together.

These decisions help make Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind one of the great films of our time, because the filmmakers weren’t afraid to “kill their darlings.”

3. Keep the Rhythm

Editing for emotional tone and story is tied together by a certain rhythm or tempo, which should also align with that tone and story.

Ask yourself: does the rhythm of your cuts match the emotional tone of the story? As an editor, if your goal is to create a sense of disorientation or confusion—for instance, if a character feels lost, or the scene calls for that feeling—then the pacing may be fast and choppy. But if the emotion or story is calmer, the rhythm should reflect that.

Murch wants you to think of editing as “visual music.” To him, rhythm is “the music of editing.”

“When I was about ten, I was deeply influenced by musique concrète. I was completely fascinated by the idea that you could make music out of sound. So it’s influenced everything I’ve done.”
— Walter Murch

Now let’s look at an example—the ending of Bonnie and Clyde. Director Arthur Penn and editor Dede Allen use rhythm brilliantly to convey the couple’s sudden, shocking, yet inevitable death.

Through movement and jump cuts, the filmmakers accelerate the rhythm of the lovers’ tragic end.

If we look again at Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, especially the scenes where Joel tries to hold on to his memories of Clementine, we see that the pace of the film is tightly tied to his fear of losing her.

Joel runs with her, trying to hide her deeper in his mind, in places she’s never been before.

The cutting is fast and urgent, mimicking the rapid erasure of his memories. This rhythm drives the story forward throughout.

But to keep the audience engaged for the entire film, you need more specialized tools. Let’s move on to the next of Walter Murch’s “Rule of Six.”

4. Eye-Trace

Before defining anything, let’s go back to basics. Whether you’re an editor, cinematographer, or director, capturing and holding the audience’s attention is always the top priority.

Controlling what the audience sees and for how long requires tight collaboration between director and editor. Predicting where the audience will look next is fundamental to their craft.

So how do they do it?

Eye-trace is a filmmaking technique that uses blocking, camera movement, color, light, and editing to guide the audience’s gaze to specific areas in the frame.

“Eye-trace” is essentially a tool filmmakers use to control what the audience looks at. It’s often used to direct the viewer’s gaze across cuts in a sequence.

Ask yourself: before the cut, where is the audience likely looking? How will this cut affect the way their attention shifts?

“My job as an editor is to gently guide the viewer’s attention so that they look at the various parts of the frame. And the way I do that is by controlling how and where I make the cut, and the order of the images I use.”
— Walter Murch

Knowing this in advance lets filmmakers use some “tricks.” Knowing where the audience is looking is a great way to hide information.

If viewers are focused on the center of the frame in one shot and you place something important in the back corner of the next shot, you’ve effectively hidden that element. They won’t look there and will likely miss it.

Fight Club uses eye-trace too, but in a slightly different way.

The audience’s focus on this actor

The audience’s attention is on the doctor. The filmmakers know this, so if they want to hint at something, placing a distinctive prop just outside the main focus—or, in this case, flashing Tyler Durden briefly in the background—works unexpectedly well.

Tyler appears, then vanishes.

He disappears even faster than he appeared, and viewers don’t quite have time to process what they saw. They’re not even sure they really saw anything. It’s an early clue that most people miss on first viewing.

Even when you’re not hiding anything, eye-trace can help the audience follow rapidly changing story information.

When an action scene is fast and full of moving elements, cutting in a way that tracks eye movement can help viewers keep up. Here’s an example from Mad Max: Fury Road.

In the sequence below, notice how key visual points are always framed near the center. With each cut, the audience’s gaze remains centered:

The audience’s eyes stay on the center

There’s a lot happening at once in this film, and this approach keeps viewers focused instead of overwhelmed by the chaos.

If your first shot ends with the main subject in the center of the frame, you can assume the audience’s eye will remain there in the next shot. Use that to your advantage.

Cut to another shot and place the next important element in the center. Of course, as the story progresses, viewers’ eyes will wander based on other choices you make.

We can also look at how color and placement use eye-trace to amplify emotion in films we love.

Experienced filmmakers know that establishing and using a unified color palette can create mood, communicate theme, and structure the story. Color can also guide the viewer’s eye.

Watch this scene from Steven Spielberg’s Schindler’s List. Consider how the director uses color like a punch to the gut to stir emotion and draw our attention to exactly what he wants us to see.

From a high vantage point, Schindler watches the little girl in the red coat—and so do we—as the chaos unfolds. She stands out starkly in an otherwise black-and-white image. Red symbolizes emotion. He can look away from his own actions, but he can’t ignore this. We watch him watch her—and feel what he feels.

Schindler’s position above the girl also pulls our attention back to him, to his feelings, ultimately revealing who he really is. His inability to help her reflects the story’s core sense of helplessness, and eye-trace plays a key role in conveying that.

5. The Two-Dimensional Plane

Life happens in three dimensions. This rule is about translating our three-dimensional world into the two-dimensional world we see on screen.

We need to prove that, in this two-dimensional space (the flat movie screen), A is actually looking at B.

Walter Murch discusses this concept in relation to the 180-degree rule.

What is the 180-degree rule?

The 180-degree rule is a guideline in cinematography stating that two characters in a scene should maintain the same left–right relationship to each other. If the camera crosses the imaginary axis connecting them, it’s said to have “crossed the line,” which can confuse the audience.

The rule states that the camera should always stay on one side of that imaginary line.

By keeping the characters’ left–right relationship consistent, you establish their positions and screen direction. If you cut from one character to the other, one should be looking offscreen to the left, and the other offscreen to the right, so the audience’s sense of direction remains consistent. Of course, you can break this rule—but it’s important to understand it first.

6. Three-Dimensional Space

This rule ensures the audience understands where everything is in the scene. Show them the spatial relationships between objects.

For example, when I get out of a car and walk down some steps, do I end up outside, on the ground, or am I suddenly inside my house?

Does the editing give the audience enough information about the physical space to understand how I got from one place to another?

In early cinema, filmmakers were very cautious about this. There were fewer cuts, and actors were often shown walking the full distance from one place to another. They worried that if screen geography didn’t match reality, viewers would struggle to follow the story.

Today, of course, this rule is frequently broken.

Sometimes breaking it supports the tone of a film better than following it.

In Inception, people can literally walk on walls. How is that possible?

Inception and the challenge to spatial norms

If you’ve seen Inception, you know it’s about dreams within dreams. So the characters’ abilities naturally break this rule. That fits both the tone and the story of the film.