I have been watching my new Ingmar Bergman films, preparing to write a 6page paper for midterms. The films I am watching are Persona, Passion of Anna (just Passion in Sweden), and Saraband, which is the one I have yet to view.
Persona is one of my favorite films of all time, I'd say it's about second. It's also totally messed up. I am not entirely sure what I think it's all about, but I have some ideas, so let me share them with you:
The story follows an actress, Liv Ullman who is choosing, after some sort of nervous breakdown, to be mute. The subtitles have the doctor saying she is also "immobile," but it isn't meant in the paralyzed, physical sense. Instead, she chooses not to care for her son, see her husband...she just doesn't want to do much of anything. The story is also about her nurse, Bibi Andersson, who accompanies her to a seaside cottage for rest and relaxation. The nurse is younger and talks a lot, seemingly at the behest of Ullman.
Some of the core themes are lying and identity, specifically female identity. Bergman paints a well rounded portrait of these women, zeroing in on three characteristics of femininity - the mother, the sister, the lover.
Throughout the film the characters interchange who plays the role of caregiver. Although Andresson is younger, she is the nurse, there to do the job of meeting Ullman's needs. However, Ullman is older, possibly wiser, and often treats Andersson as though she is someone who needs looking after.
The two form a close bond, spending there days together, comforting each other, and for the most part in a very sisterly manner. Here Bergman does something that astounds me; he is able to capture the way in which feelings of sisterhood between women are carried out through mutual maternal actions. I'm not sure if I can explain that right now, I just feel it to be true. I'll keep working on it.
The part of Bergman's films that it seems people wish to shy away from, but which he absolutely refuses to let you do, is the aspect of "women as lover" -- and not just the lover of men, but also other women. If Persona were made today, by some hack in Hollywood, it would probably be called Obsession. The two women develop a relationship in which they blend into one another (figuratively and literally, by way of an awesome shot of halves of the two women's faces taking up the entire screen), but with very strong sexual undertones. Bergman does this again in Cries and Whispers, to a much greater extent...but this is about Persona, not C&W.
So often, in new and old films, we see female characters portrayed as one, possibly two, dimensional - the stupid-girly-flirt, the mean-old-boss, the smart-yet-slightly-unattractive-sidekick, the overbearing-mother, the seductress, the list goes on - but never are the stereotypes combined the way they are in real life. To be sure, Bergman's women are kind of f***ed up, but that's how movies are. We don't see films because they reflect our lives exactly as they are every day. Instead we zoom in on the dramatic, crazy times and multiply it by ten...
and that's entertainment.
And with Bergman, it's a kind of introspection for the whole of humanity as well...
I'll leave it there for now, and get into the Vietnam thing next time.
Showing posts with label film analysis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label film analysis. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Chicago 10 - Documentary for the Rest of Us
I think a lot of people have this notion that documentaries have to be this grand, academically minded, serious undertaking. I disagree and I am happy to report, so does Brent Morgan, director of Chicago 10. I recently wrote a paper on the film, which I will paste here below, but in case you don't feel like reading a three page paper, here's the important part: Morgan uses "reenactments" of the Chicago 8 trial to tell this story...but the reenactments are done through stop motion animation and are, unlike many traditional reenactments, voiced by actors like Hank Azaria. The point I make in my paper is that, along with his use of 'modern' music (I really consider music from the 60's to be fairly modern, but you know what I mean), Morgan is trying to tell this story in a way that relates to a younger audience, one further removed from the police state that was Chicago in 1968. I also think he accomplishes it.
So, if you have time and patience, feel free to read the paper below, otherwise, I would suggest at least listening to the Terry Gross interview I reference...as my film prof said in his notes on my paper, "Best interviewer working today."
Chicago 10 For 2008
Chicago 10 tells the story of the eight men put on trial for conspiracy and incitement to riot at the Democratic National Convention of 1968, and the two lawyers who represented them in 1969. Film maker Brent Morgan used footage from both the time of the convention and the trials, editing back and forth between the two years. Because no cameras were allowed in the courtroom during the trial, the best access they had to telling the story of what went on behind those doors are the court transcripts. In some more conventional documentaries, writings from a time when cameras were not available will be read by actors while B roll footage or still photographs flick by. Morgan takes a different route. He took the transcripts and had actors Hank Azaria and Roy Scheider, among others, act them out while animators reenacted the scenes through use of motion caption animation. Rare audio recording of the trial shows that, much as film is edited in a documentary, the transcripts are sometimes boiled down or added to for audience clarification. From a cinéma vérité standpoint, this would take Chicago 10 completely out of the running for documentary status. However, ironically, in this instance the ends justify the means, in that Morgan is trying to tell this story not as an historical account, but rather as a way to create a dialogue about contemporary issues using the events of 1968 as a backdrop.
In an interview with Terry Gross on NPR’s Fresh Air, Morgan says he “…never thought [he] was making a film about 1968…[he] thought [he] was making a film about today” (Morgan). This becomes somewhat foreshadowing, when taking into account the statement was made in February of 2008, and only a few months later St. Paul would see similar protests, riots, and police action (with legal proceedings following) at the Republican National Convention. Morgan is asking us to look at his film and relate it to our own lives, particularly the lives of a younger generation, one whose grandparents’ generation is the subject of the film. One of the ways he puts the film into a modern perspective is by using contemporary music of the early 21st Century; this is in contrast to the way many films about the sixties are made using solely the iconic songs of that era. He explains in his NPR interview that he “wanted the music to be the soundtrack of [his] audience's lives, not their parents” (Morgan). The music is meant to reach members of Generation X and Generation Millennial, sending the message that this is just as much their story as that of their parents and grandparents; that the fight for free speech portrayed in the film is still going on. The other thing that makes this choice so effective is that when he does choose to use period pieces of music, they stand out, forcing the audience to listen. This is most poignant during the footage of the march on the Conrad Hilton, in which a guest of the hotel, who happened to be a member of the British parliament, was beaten and arrested by police. As she was being pushed into the paddy wagon she began singing the epitome of civil-rights era anthems, “We Shall Overcome.” It cannot be ignored that by including this piece of footage, Morgan is highlighting the senseless brutality of the Chicago police during the riots and encouraging his audience to ask themselves if they would have spoken out against the injustice.
Another way he reaches out to contemporary viewers is through the use of animation. The idea of using animation in a serious film, be it fiction or fact, is one that some viewers may have trouble swallowing, particularly those who did not grow up with cartoons and comics as an everyday storytelling medium. If all one has seen of animation comes from Warner Brothers and involves talking animals, it becomes a confusing thing to take such a serious event and make a comic out of it. Compounding this confusion is the lack of visual education in the medium. As with any storytelling medium, one must become accustomed to its variances. Without this, the medium can be more difficult to interpret. A.O. Scott, in the New York Times, displays this kind of confusion in his review of the film in which he said, “the animation itself has a slapdash, lurching feel. More powerful are the documentary segments interwoven with the recreated trial” (Scott). One who is familiar with modern graphic novels and other motion caption animation films would be used to the “slapdash, lurching” effect that these styles can have. Morgan’s intended audience is therefore one that has grown up watching and reading various kinds of comics, giving them a sense of the ‘grammar of animation.’
Drawing connections between two eras and emphasizing learning from the past is nothing new in documentary film. However, Morgan’s goal is not simply to remind people of the past but to show them that the past is already repeating itself. By avoiding modern voice-overs or interviews, he reaches out to the audience’s subconscious through sounds and images with which they are most comfortable. The audience is made to feel that the events being shown could have taken place in any time, even our time. The message of the Yippies and MOBE was that the ends did not justify the means when it came to war, particularly the Vietnam War. But Morgan’s liberties with classical documentary style bring the audience to an end that justifies the means, showing the audience what it means to challenge your right to freedom of speech in America.
Bibliography
Morgan, Brent. Chicago 10 interview for NPR's Fresh Air Terry Gross. February 2008.
HYPERLINK "http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93870724" http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93870724
Scott, A.O. New York Times
—. "Semi AnimatedHistory of an Animated Time." New York Times 29 February 2008. HYPERLINK "http://movies.nytimes.com/2008/02/29/movies/29chic.html"
So, if you have time and patience, feel free to read the paper below, otherwise, I would suggest at least listening to the Terry Gross interview I reference...as my film prof said in his notes on my paper, "Best interviewer working today."
Chicago 10 For 2008
Chicago 10 tells the story of the eight men put on trial for conspiracy and incitement to riot at the Democratic National Convention of 1968, and the two lawyers who represented them in 1969. Film maker Brent Morgan used footage from both the time of the convention and the trials, editing back and forth between the two years. Because no cameras were allowed in the courtroom during the trial, the best access they had to telling the story of what went on behind those doors are the court transcripts. In some more conventional documentaries, writings from a time when cameras were not available will be read by actors while B roll footage or still photographs flick by. Morgan takes a different route. He took the transcripts and had actors Hank Azaria and Roy Scheider, among others, act them out while animators reenacted the scenes through use of motion caption animation. Rare audio recording of the trial shows that, much as film is edited in a documentary, the transcripts are sometimes boiled down or added to for audience clarification. From a cinéma vérité standpoint, this would take Chicago 10 completely out of the running for documentary status. However, ironically, in this instance the ends justify the means, in that Morgan is trying to tell this story not as an historical account, but rather as a way to create a dialogue about contemporary issues using the events of 1968 as a backdrop.
In an interview with Terry Gross on NPR’s Fresh Air, Morgan says he “…never thought [he] was making a film about 1968…[he] thought [he] was making a film about today” (Morgan). This becomes somewhat foreshadowing, when taking into account the statement was made in February of 2008, and only a few months later St. Paul would see similar protests, riots, and police action (with legal proceedings following) at the Republican National Convention. Morgan is asking us to look at his film and relate it to our own lives, particularly the lives of a younger generation, one whose grandparents’ generation is the subject of the film. One of the ways he puts the film into a modern perspective is by using contemporary music of the early 21st Century; this is in contrast to the way many films about the sixties are made using solely the iconic songs of that era. He explains in his NPR interview that he “wanted the music to be the soundtrack of [his] audience's lives, not their parents” (Morgan). The music is meant to reach members of Generation X and Generation Millennial, sending the message that this is just as much their story as that of their parents and grandparents; that the fight for free speech portrayed in the film is still going on. The other thing that makes this choice so effective is that when he does choose to use period pieces of music, they stand out, forcing the audience to listen. This is most poignant during the footage of the march on the Conrad Hilton, in which a guest of the hotel, who happened to be a member of the British parliament, was beaten and arrested by police. As she was being pushed into the paddy wagon she began singing the epitome of civil-rights era anthems, “We Shall Overcome.” It cannot be ignored that by including this piece of footage, Morgan is highlighting the senseless brutality of the Chicago police during the riots and encouraging his audience to ask themselves if they would have spoken out against the injustice.
Another way he reaches out to contemporary viewers is through the use of animation. The idea of using animation in a serious film, be it fiction or fact, is one that some viewers may have trouble swallowing, particularly those who did not grow up with cartoons and comics as an everyday storytelling medium. If all one has seen of animation comes from Warner Brothers and involves talking animals, it becomes a confusing thing to take such a serious event and make a comic out of it. Compounding this confusion is the lack of visual education in the medium. As with any storytelling medium, one must become accustomed to its variances. Without this, the medium can be more difficult to interpret. A.O. Scott, in the New York Times, displays this kind of confusion in his review of the film in which he said, “the animation itself has a slapdash, lurching feel. More powerful are the documentary segments interwoven with the recreated trial” (Scott). One who is familiar with modern graphic novels and other motion caption animation films would be used to the “slapdash, lurching” effect that these styles can have. Morgan’s intended audience is therefore one that has grown up watching and reading various kinds of comics, giving them a sense of the ‘grammar of animation.’
Drawing connections between two eras and emphasizing learning from the past is nothing new in documentary film. However, Morgan’s goal is not simply to remind people of the past but to show them that the past is already repeating itself. By avoiding modern voice-overs or interviews, he reaches out to the audience’s subconscious through sounds and images with which they are most comfortable. The audience is made to feel that the events being shown could have taken place in any time, even our time. The message of the Yippies and MOBE was that the ends did not justify the means when it came to war, particularly the Vietnam War. But Morgan’s liberties with classical documentary style bring the audience to an end that justifies the means, showing the audience what it means to challenge your right to freedom of speech in America.
Bibliography
Morgan, Brent. Chicago 10 interview for NPR's Fresh Air Terry Gross. February 2008.
HYPERLINK "http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93870724" http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93870724
Scott, A.O. New York Times
—. "Semi AnimatedHistory of an Animated Time." New York Times 29 February 2008. HYPERLINK "http://movies.nytimes.com/2008/02/29/movies/29chic.html"
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Intolerable Cruelty
Well, I finally got around to watching the movie for my first Coen brother's paper...which was due more then a week ago. I know I know, but, cest la vie, such is life!
So the movie I watched was Intolerable Cruelty, with George Cloony and Catherine Zeta Jones. It's a romantic comedy that the Coen's wrote with two other guys, and it shows. I liked it, but at the same time....well, I had to turn it off about ten minutes to the end because I just couldn't handle what was happening because, being someone who usually knows the ending within the first few minutes, I had no idea what would happen and it made me hella uncomfortable.
Basically, it is really Hollywood, ya know, "mainstream" as the kids say, which is fine, except that right at about plot point 2, approx. 90 minutes in, everything turns on its head and we get some classic Coen, bizzrro-land action, complete with a hit man with asthma and mace.
A lot of the Coen's usual suspects are present, if not in casting, then in style. The credits are delayed until an entire scene, complete with one long dolly shot, has gone by. However, the opening credits are given in a very Hollywood manner, with cartoons of cherubs and such...not the usual for the brothers grim.
Anyway, I'm not really sure what I'll be writing my paper on yet. I'll let you know!
So the movie I watched was Intolerable Cruelty, with George Cloony and Catherine Zeta Jones. It's a romantic comedy that the Coen's wrote with two other guys, and it shows. I liked it, but at the same time....well, I had to turn it off about ten minutes to the end because I just couldn't handle what was happening because, being someone who usually knows the ending within the first few minutes, I had no idea what would happen and it made me hella uncomfortable.
Basically, it is really Hollywood, ya know, "mainstream" as the kids say, which is fine, except that right at about plot point 2, approx. 90 minutes in, everything turns on its head and we get some classic Coen, bizzrro-land action, complete with a hit man with asthma and mace.
A lot of the Coen's usual suspects are present, if not in casting, then in style. The credits are delayed until an entire scene, complete with one long dolly shot, has gone by. However, the opening credits are given in a very Hollywood manner, with cartoons of cherubs and such...not the usual for the brothers grim.
Anyway, I'm not really sure what I'll be writing my paper on yet. I'll let you know!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
The Visitor
Tonight I saw The Visitor at our local second run theatre, The Riverview. The Visitor is the story of a professor of Economics whose self-pitying solitude is disrupted when he discovers two illegal immigrants have been conned into living in his long-time vacant NYC apartment thinking they are subletting it with the owner's consent.
The film makes some amazing comments on America and who we've become, as well as honestly examining relationships between white Americans and immigrants (illegal and legal). The silence of the film often says more then the dialog (although that was well done as well) making use of plastic materials* to illustrate moods, underlying meanings and character development.
I don't want to give anything away because I think what this film has to say is important enough that anyone stumbling upon this blog needs to see this film, but pay attention to the use especially of flags, foreign languages and flowers when you see The Visitor. Also, spend some time contemplating who the visitor of the film really is and why.
*in the grammar of cinema, "plastic material" refers to objects used in the storytelling; as straightforward as what books are on a shelf to the more obscure choices like dish patterns. Plastic materials often have great significance to the core message in a film, although the film can be enjoyed without picking up on their usage.
The film makes some amazing comments on America and who we've become, as well as honestly examining relationships between white Americans and immigrants (illegal and legal). The silence of the film often says more then the dialog (although that was well done as well) making use of plastic materials* to illustrate moods, underlying meanings and character development.
I don't want to give anything away because I think what this film has to say is important enough that anyone stumbling upon this blog needs to see this film, but pay attention to the use especially of flags, foreign languages and flowers when you see The Visitor. Also, spend some time contemplating who the visitor of the film really is and why.
*in the grammar of cinema, "plastic material" refers to objects used in the storytelling; as straightforward as what books are on a shelf to the more obscure choices like dish patterns. Plastic materials often have great significance to the core message in a film, although the film can be enjoyed without picking up on their usage.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
paper musings
So, remember how I had those papers to write? Well, it's Tuesday night, and my documentary paper is due in about 15 hours. And while I'd like to say that I just copied it onto a flash drive all ready to be printed, it just ain't so.
If you just want to be disgusted, I'll understand. But, for the stronger willed, read on. I am going to attempt to (at least mostly) write my paper tonight, and I am going to start by free-flowing on the themes I want to explore in my paper. Just to warn ya, it may get long!
Aaaannnnd, off we go!
51 Birch Street tells the story of the Block family from an insider viewpoint. Documentary film maker Doug Block explores the complicated history of who his parents are and who they were. In the beginning his voice over explains that the footage we see was taken for posterity's sake; shots of his mother having a martini, getting ready for the day, his parents fiftieth wedding anniversary. Then, unexpectedly, Block's mother dies and the story begins to unfold. Three months after her death Block's dad, Mike Block, remarries -- his former secretary, Kitty-- arousing suspicions of an affair. The twist comes when, after delving into his mothers journals, Block discovers that it was his mother, and not his father, who had an extra-marital affair, as well as an unrequited love for her therapist. Block explores what can happen when you start to ask the questions you never wanted the answers to in the first place, but does so with a kind of humanity that would be missing from the story if filmed by anyone other than himself. Through his use of interview style and cinematographic language, Block is able to tell his family's emotional tale honestly. (This is pretty much my thesis, in case you were wondering)
One of the key components to the modern documentary is the interview. For a subject to share their thoughts and feelings openly, the interviewer needs to establish a repore (sp) with the subject. With 51 Birch Street, the interviewer himself is a character in the events, and so is already intimately acquainted with his subjects. However, some of the most interesting scenes are those in which those closest to Block the son and brother, seem the farthest away from Block the film maker with camera. At the very beginning of the film Block is taking a shot from the bottom of a staircase, his mother walks out of the room, enters the bathroom. He has shot her from below and when she realizes this, she yells that she won't come out because he has broken her trust. This one sentence from his footage deals with one of the more fundamental questions Block has about his film -- should he read (or have read) her journals? Has he betrayed her trust by looking into who she really was-- at least in the the "she" of the 60's when the journals were written. Later he asks his mother's best friend who hems and haws over it before saying that is exactly what she would have wanted, for someone to really know her. Another example of his interview techniques; this is a woman who has known him all his life, and yet she treats this with a composure that portrays her firm understanding that this is an interview and other people will see it, so she needs to choose her words carefully and she does. He films his mother's friend in a more classical frame, face in left hand of frame, camera on tripod, flower nicely placed in background, whereas his family's interviews are often hand held with the subject centered and the camera almost too close for comfort. He asks a young rabbi about the journals, and he admits that he would have read them, hoping to gain insight into his family and thereby himself. Again he uses the same classic interview cinematography style, putting the subject at a distance from himself and the audience to create a feeling that, while their opinions are valid, they may not be quite what he is looking for.
And so by the end of the film he realizes, through the lens, that the question of right or wrong in this instance is not so cut and dried. He shows us this throughout the film by use of plastic materials. Specifically, there are many shots of driving down Birch Street in fall. The main part of the film, excluding old family videos, takes place over the course of about four or five months-- it can't be fall all that time. Autumn represents crossroads, a time of indecision. A melancholy time that makes us glorify what summer was and what winter will be, without allowing for the reality of what those seasons were . The only shot of winter is when he his mother dies. Although his voice over talks of life going on and moving forward, it is clear through the use of trees clothed only in snow and shots of his own nuclear family sitting dejected in their apartment that he has not moved on emotionally from his mother's death. In one of only two outside the family interviews, Block speaks with a psychologist who is an expetrt on father/son relationships who points out that his issues with his father (who at this point has not been cleared of having an affair) are more about loss and the ways in which they each deal with it. His father marries another woman right away, and Block makes a movie about it.
OK, my brain might actually explode if I write much more. am going to go to bed and try and come up with something decent in the morning, and if not then...well, my prof will have to wait till Thursday or Friday and that's that. If you want to read my conclusion, look back tomorrow!
If you just want to be disgusted, I'll understand. But, for the stronger willed, read on. I am going to attempt to (at least mostly) write my paper tonight, and I am going to start by free-flowing on the themes I want to explore in my paper. Just to warn ya, it may get long!
Aaaannnnd, off we go!
51 Birch Street tells the story of the Block family from an insider viewpoint. Documentary film maker Doug Block explores the complicated history of who his parents are and who they were. In the beginning his voice over explains that the footage we see was taken for posterity's sake; shots of his mother having a martini, getting ready for the day, his parents fiftieth wedding anniversary. Then, unexpectedly, Block's mother dies and the story begins to unfold. Three months after her death Block's dad, Mike Block, remarries -- his former secretary, Kitty-- arousing suspicions of an affair. The twist comes when, after delving into his mothers journals, Block discovers that it was his mother, and not his father, who had an extra-marital affair, as well as an unrequited love for her therapist. Block explores what can happen when you start to ask the questions you never wanted the answers to in the first place, but does so with a kind of humanity that would be missing from the story if filmed by anyone other than himself. Through his use of interview style and cinematographic language, Block is able to tell his family's emotional tale honestly. (This is pretty much my thesis, in case you were wondering)
One of the key components to the modern documentary is the interview. For a subject to share their thoughts and feelings openly, the interviewer needs to establish a repore (sp) with the subject. With 51 Birch Street, the interviewer himself is a character in the events, and so is already intimately acquainted with his subjects. However, some of the most interesting scenes are those in which those closest to Block the son and brother, seem the farthest away from Block the film maker with camera. At the very beginning of the film Block is taking a shot from the bottom of a staircase, his mother walks out of the room, enters the bathroom. He has shot her from below and when she realizes this, she yells that she won't come out because he has broken her trust. This one sentence from his footage deals with one of the more fundamental questions Block has about his film -- should he read (or have read) her journals? Has he betrayed her trust by looking into who she really was-- at least in the the "she" of the 60's when the journals were written. Later he asks his mother's best friend who hems and haws over it before saying that is exactly what she would have wanted, for someone to really know her. Another example of his interview techniques; this is a woman who has known him all his life, and yet she treats this with a composure that portrays her firm understanding that this is an interview and other people will see it, so she needs to choose her words carefully and she does. He films his mother's friend in a more classical frame, face in left hand of frame, camera on tripod, flower nicely placed in background, whereas his family's interviews are often hand held with the subject centered and the camera almost too close for comfort. He asks a young rabbi about the journals, and he admits that he would have read them, hoping to gain insight into his family and thereby himself. Again he uses the same classic interview cinematography style, putting the subject at a distance from himself and the audience to create a feeling that, while their opinions are valid, they may not be quite what he is looking for.
And so by the end of the film he realizes, through the lens, that the question of right or wrong in this instance is not so cut and dried. He shows us this throughout the film by use of plastic materials. Specifically, there are many shots of driving down Birch Street in fall. The main part of the film, excluding old family videos, takes place over the course of about four or five months-- it can't be fall all that time. Autumn represents crossroads, a time of indecision. A melancholy time that makes us glorify what summer was and what winter will be, without allowing for the reality of what those seasons were . The only shot of winter is when he his mother dies. Although his voice over talks of life going on and moving forward, it is clear through the use of trees clothed only in snow and shots of his own nuclear family sitting dejected in their apartment that he has not moved on emotionally from his mother's death. In one of only two outside the family interviews, Block speaks with a psychologist who is an expetrt on father/son relationships who points out that his issues with his father (who at this point has not been cleared of having an affair) are more about loss and the ways in which they each deal with it. His father marries another woman right away, and Block makes a movie about it.
OK, my brain might actually explode if I write much more. am going to go to bed and try and come up with something decent in the morning, and if not then...well, my prof will have to wait till Thursday or Friday and that's that. If you want to read my conclusion, look back tomorrow!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Admitting I was Wrong
It has been said that it takes a strong person to admit they are wrong, so, in the spirit of bettering ones self, I will attempt to make myself stronger by admitting that I was wrong about something.
I was inspired to do this when I was reading Songbird's blog, Reflectionary, today.
While my parents and I were visiting recently, my father and I were having a discussion about cameras, namely aperture, as this is something we now have in common (he does still photography and I obviously have to work with cameras for school). Somehow we got onto the topic of projectors and he said that there was some sort of little snap of darkness that closes between each frame, making the film seamless, like a shutter. I argued that that only happens in the camera, not when the film is being projected.
I was wrong.
There I said it. Daddy Hankiepants was right, and I was wrong.
Ahh, I can actually feel my biceps growing!
I was inspired to do this when I was reading Songbird's blog, Reflectionary, today.
While my parents and I were visiting recently, my father and I were having a discussion about cameras, namely aperture, as this is something we now have in common (he does still photography and I obviously have to work with cameras for school). Somehow we got onto the topic of projectors and he said that there was some sort of little snap of darkness that closes between each frame, making the film seamless, like a shutter. I argued that that only happens in the camera, not when the film is being projected.
I was wrong.
There I said it. Daddy Hankiepants was right, and I was wrong.
Ahh, I can actually feel my biceps growing!
(click on the image to make it larger; notice the part that says "shutter"...oops.)
Friday, July 18, 2008
Why I'm Tired, or Don't You Love When Your Professor is Right?
I am super tired this morning because I went to the midnight showing of Batman: The Dark Knight last night. Viewers beware, it is crazy long. We didn't get out until just before 3. But, all in all, I definitely thought it was well worth seeing. Heath Ledger's performance was...astounding. And I realize a lot of people are saying that, and if you aren't really into actors or movies (although why would you be reading this if that were the case) you might think they are just saying it because this is supposed to be the film that killed him.
I may not be a very good actor, but I know a good one when I see one, and I am telling you we have lost one of the most talented artists of our time.
Back to the film itself, I won't get too lengthy but here is a little something. The editing was really good, props to Lee Smith. And so was the sound (original, by James Newton Howard and Hans Zimmer)...but right at the end they lost me a little. Last semester I had a conversation with my Film and Video 1 professor about sound levels, because I was doing a lot of sound layering for my final project, and he said that when adjusting the sound levels, one notch in either direction can be critical. I thought maybe he was just trying to scare me, but he was totally right. During the denouement in The Dark Knight, there is a voice over giving a powerful speech while we see conclusion/wrap up shots...it looked great, but there was music playing behind the speaker and it was as though those notches had been reversed - I wanted it to be one notch louder for the speaker and one notch quieter for the music. It was distracting and lessened the effect of a speech I thought was needed for the film to be effective.
As a side note, for any readers who may wonder why I seem so intent on viewing violent films, it really isn't my fault! I have been watching a lot of recommended/borrowed films from HB and he doesn't really have any happy-go-lucky kind of films, it seems (except for foreign films, which as I have said, can not be watched on my tiny tv). So, I promise to try and watch some more "family friendly," or at least not so violent, films in the fall when I have money to rent again!
I may not be a very good actor, but I know a good one when I see one, and I am telling you we have lost one of the most talented artists of our time.
Back to the film itself, I won't get too lengthy but here is a little something. The editing was really good, props to Lee Smith. And so was the sound (original, by James Newton Howard and Hans Zimmer)...but right at the end they lost me a little. Last semester I had a conversation with my Film and Video 1 professor about sound levels, because I was doing a lot of sound layering for my final project, and he said that when adjusting the sound levels, one notch in either direction can be critical. I thought maybe he was just trying to scare me, but he was totally right. During the denouement in The Dark Knight, there is a voice over giving a powerful speech while we see conclusion/wrap up shots...it looked great, but there was music playing behind the speaker and it was as though those notches had been reversed - I wanted it to be one notch louder for the speaker and one notch quieter for the music. It was distracting and lessened the effect of a speech I thought was needed for the film to be effective.
As a side note, for any readers who may wonder why I seem so intent on viewing violent films, it really isn't my fault! I have been watching a lot of recommended/borrowed films from HB and he doesn't really have any happy-go-lucky kind of films, it seems (except for foreign films, which as I have said, can not be watched on my tiny tv). So, I promise to try and watch some more "family friendly," or at least not so violent, films in the fall when I have money to rent again!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Raging Bull
Yesterday I began watching Raging Bull. I didn't finish it for two reasons: 1) I had to leave to go to a Poetry Slam night at the Nile and 2) I got the distinct feeling that I would enjoy the film a whole lot more (and understand it better, too) f I saw it on a better/bigger screen. So, I may set this one aside until September when I will be living in HB's new house...along with my sister-in-law and a big flat screen tv! Yes, I can't wait to be able to watch foreign films again! (the screen on my current tv is too small for subtitles)
But here are couple things I noticed already about Raging Bull. The first is that everyone always talks about how violent this film is. Now, I realize it revolutionized the way sports films, particularly boxing films, are made, and that I have a higher threshold for violence than many people. But, nonetheless, what strikes me more than the violence itself is the way it is handled.
Thelma Shoonmaker (editor) and the sound crew do a wonderful job of bringing you just past the point where you thought you couldn't handle the violence, and relieve you from it by replacing the fight sounds and background noise with classical music. It is in these moments when you are left free to disassociate yourself from the violence and context, much like the characters themselves have to do throughout their lives. The audience is also given a chance to see this groundbreaking directorial/cinematographic/editorial work, not just for sports films, but for any film with any kind of action sequencing. I also think this is one reason why 99% of the film is in black&white-- to deny the added distraction that color can bring to the audience. We are instead forced to concentrate on these characters and the fights they are in, in and out of the boxing ring.
So, that's my first take on the film, maybe I'll come back to it once I watch it all the way through!
But here are couple things I noticed already about Raging Bull. The first is that everyone always talks about how violent this film is. Now, I realize it revolutionized the way sports films, particularly boxing films, are made, and that I have a higher threshold for violence than many people. But, nonetheless, what strikes me more than the violence itself is the way it is handled.
Thelma Shoonmaker (editor) and the sound crew do a wonderful job of bringing you just past the point where you thought you couldn't handle the violence, and relieve you from it by replacing the fight sounds and background noise with classical music. It is in these moments when you are left free to disassociate yourself from the violence and context, much like the characters themselves have to do throughout their lives. The audience is also given a chance to see this groundbreaking directorial/cinematographic/editorial work, not just for sports films, but for any film with any kind of action sequencing. I also think this is one reason why 99% of the film is in black&white-- to deny the added distraction that color can bring to the audience. We are instead forced to concentrate on these characters and the fights they are in, in and out of the boxing ring.
So, that's my first take on the film, maybe I'll come back to it once I watch it all the way through!
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