Saturday, April 9, 2011

Man with a Movie Camera


The 1929 short film Man with a Movie Camera changed the viewing experience for me because it made me consider many factors outside of the film.  It calls to attention the amount of work that goes into every production, showing the man in the theater who puts the film reels on the projector and synchs them at the right time.  We see close-up shots on the still, but tense hands of the band who will perform the score.  They wait eagerly for the cue of the person running the projector.  All the while, people rush in and begin to take their seats. Using cut techniques, the seats unfold for the audience as if by magic.  I think this film calls to attention how much we take for granted in film.  Production is an arduous process, and so much effort goes into every step.    However, today we go to a movie, sit down for two hours, watch it, and leave.  Most people never stay for credits, and I think many will never truly appreciate the amount work that goes into films.  Man with a Movie Camera is almost a call out of the audience, in my opinion.  The only thing that would make viewing films more convenient is if the seats unfolded themselves, and many people who watch movies have the nerve to make uneducated remarks about production value without ever understanding what it means to put in the work.
Being able to see these types of Avant-Garde films on the internet and in setting other than the traditional museum has really changed the way we view experimental cinema.  Although I feel like a movie must always be viewed in an appropriate atmosphere, I really like the growing experimental Youtube culture with short films.  Instead of going to a museum and watching a short film, kids are seeing them on the internet and thinking to themselves “Hey, I could do that!”  Having these films on Youtube also seems to make Avant-Garde films less insistent of themselves when it comes to content.  A lot of people may feel like experimental films are challenging to their intellect.  However, when you can see them on the same website as you see cartoons and viral videos the general public may be more open to them.  With all of the knowledge available to people today online, it will be interesting to see how film culture will change within the next 10 years. 

Friday, February 18, 2011

Blog #3 Sontag and A Single Man


If Sontag considers a desirable film review to be a concentration on form with accurate descriptions of the visual elements, then Simon Weaving is on the right track. Weaving's review of Tom Ford's A Single Man (2009) is effective in the sense that it focuses on the visual tone the movie creates. However, being that it is so hard to break away from critiquing the content of the film based on how it relates to the narrative, Weaving criticizes the movie for being too polished for an emotional journey describing the film as “scene after scene of impeccably beautiful but detached imagery.” One of the problems I have with this review is that it seems to con the very cinematography that it sings praise to because of its separation from the narrative. It appears Weaving can not get over how the elaborate and controlled shots in each scene do not match the raw emotion that the characters are trying to convey in the narrative. Perhaps if he could get over this, he would realize the techniques Ford uses, especially those using slow-motion and saturation manipulation, are merely alternative ways of producing the same effect. What I do like about this review is the fact that Weaving discusses the relationship between content and form and how they feed so much off of each other. Even though his opinion of the content had more of an effect on his opinion of the film, he mentioned both form and how it effects content. It does not entirely achieve what Sontag sees as successful criticism, but it is a definite start. That being said, it should not be changed, because Sontag has somewhat of a one-sided approach of criticizing a film almost entirely on form first; which is just as bad as basing your opinion entirely on content if you ask me.

Of all the elements of mise-en-scene that contribute to the dramatic narrative of A Single Man, composition would have to play the most important. Slow-motion is used in multiple scenes, and this becomes a cinematic theme that ties in very well with the narrative considering some of its dialogue. For instance, a slow-motion scene where Colin Firth is driving by his neighbors and sees the daughter playing in the yard captures every detail of what Firth would have been seeing, almost as if it is a vivid dream or memory. Considering Julianne Moore's scene where she talks about living in the past and enjoying every moment of life, this use of slow-motion starts to present how a character is beginning to take in every moment. Slowing down the scene and making every movement seem more deliberate gives everything more meaning, and the effect is breathtaking. 

Friday, January 21, 2011

Psycho and the Hermeneutic Enigma

In the beginning of Psycho, Hitchcock shows us two lovers, Marion and Sam, after what seems to be a mid-day rendezvous at a motel in Phoenix, Arizona. Sam is obviously not from the city and it is clear that he has to travel to see her. Judging by the body language of the two characters, they are both infatuated with each other, yet due to financial obstacles, they both realize they can never make their love “legitimate” through marriage. In an attempt to get what she wants, Marion flees Phoenix with money stolen from her employer. This sequence of events is what establishes the enigma of the entire film; if your life is unsatisfactory, is it better to run away or to stay put and confront it? As Marion makes her way to California, Hitchcock shows her growing paranoia and the inner conflicts she is beginning to have by making her thoughts audible in the diegesis. Not only does Hitchcock add growing suspense by playing sharp shrieking music in the background, but he often shows Marion's point of view looking back in the rear view mirror which signifies that Marion is more than likely the focus of the film's narrative. However, after Marion arrives at Bates Motel we realize this is not the case. After a long discussion with the hotel's manager, Norman Bates, Marion realizes that she must confront her problems, unlike Norman who is passive to the demands of his mother. This is where Hitchcock uses a blocking delay to prolong providing an answer to the enigma while increasing its suspense. The famous shower scene not only detaches the audience from Marion's character, but also prolongs the answer of whether it is better to fight or flee. Because Marion dies, we will never know how her story may have unfolded. Furthermore, the use of Norman's point of view through the peephole also makes us focus on Norman, a man trapped by the oppression of his mother, for the answer to our question.

I believe Psycho could in no way be considered a readerly text. The way Hitchcock kills off the central character half way into the narrative is something that creates a lot more questions than answers, leaving the film in sort of an ambiguous state. Instead of the movie being about whether or not Marion returns the money, it becomes a mystery film about the the whereabouts of a girl trying to “run away.” The focus shifts toward Norman and leaves much up for interpretation, specifically the condition of his psyche, his mother's intentions in killing Marion, and if Marion's death will ever be discovered. However, the enigma of fight or flight is still present, and there is no real answer to the question of which is better. The movie obviously has a writerly text because the fleeing Marion was killed before her conflict could ever be resolved, and Norman Bates was incarcerated after staying put and dealing with his problems...in his special way, thus leaving no disclosure about whether either of their choices were right.  

Monday, January 17, 2011

Richard Corliss on Full Metal Jacket

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,964819-1,00.html


In a 1987 Time Magazine review of Full Metal Jacket, Richard Corliss breaks down Stanley Kubrick's film on multiple levels, providing a superb analysis of the movie as a whole.  Corliss covers the plot as well as camera work, cinematography, diegetic, and non-diegetic elements of the movie.  He speaks about Full Metal Jacket in a way that makes me want to watch the movie again just to be able to appreciate how Kubrick has taken every aspect of a film, perfected each piece, and then wrapped them all into one great movie.

If doing a review for Time was not enough evidence that Richard Corliss knows a thing or two about movies, the way he starts his review certainly does the job.

“Act I: As the country crooner sings 'Goodbye, sweetheart, hello, Viet Nam,' 17 Marine recruits get their heads shaved. The long, defiant hair of the late 1960s falls to the floor; the young men look sullen or stern. Do they know that this is a pre-op for a lobotomy?”

Not only does Corliss show that he understands how Kubrick has broken the film into three acts, but he also analyzes a short scene of no more than a few minutes into a dark foreshadowing of future events to come in both the first act and the rest of the movie. He particularly notes specific shots in the scene as well as the song playing in the non-diegetic background.

Further elaborating on Kubrick's use of a removed “God's-eye view” camera perspective, Corliss explains how “Kubrick's majestic camera tracks across the barracks, it ascends obstacle courses, it glides past the soldiers, then abruptly cuts to close-ups, to study their pain head on.” Clearly Corliss understands how directors use the camera and scene transitions in order to create a certain effect for the viewer.

Richard Corliss does an outstanding job of reviewing Full Metal Jacket. He shows an understanding of both the narrative of the film and is well versed in analyzing the work put into every frame of the movie. It is no wonder he considered the film “a technical knockout.”