The King's Speech, by Tom Hooper

Trailer

I thought I would not be able to catch The King’s Speech on theaters because the release of non-mainstream films in Boston is rare and scarce. In fact, I was planning a trip to New York City to watch it at MoMA, they were screening it as one of the greatest films of 2010. They categorized the film as “a contender for lasting historical significance—and any true cinephile will want to catch them on the big screen.” So you can imagine how excited I was to find out that they were showing it at Kendal and I could avoid another eventful ride on the Chinese bus.

I thought that the story was captivating and very easy to relate to given that one of the most common fears is public speaking. As a college student, I am constantly required to do presentation, and I have hated the idea of standing in front of a quiet classroom each and every time, Thus, I felt completely related to the main character. Instead of a speech disorder, I have a strong accent that comes out even stronger when I am nervous and in front of people. However, such close identification with the character could only occur because the acting was exceptional. Colin Firth truly transmits the frustration of not been able to let his words flow out of his throat. Such frustration was intensified by the camera work.

The viewer is made aware of the device used. The camera moves freely, following the king closely. It shows his point of view, which at times is terrifying. We are constantly glad we are not actually on his shoes, for example, when he is giving his most important speech.

The mise en scene was thought to its smallest details. However, the greatest attention was given to the walls. They express the feelings and progress of the King. As he begins his therapy, the walls at the Doctor’s office are made of multiple layers of paint and colors which are falling apart and cracking down. However, as he becomes more confidence not only on his own capabilities, but also on his Doctor, the therapy takes place at the Doctor’s house where the walls’ patterns are uniform and well kept. Walls become extremely important when the King is about to give his last speech. Here, the Doctor made the room “more cozy” by putting patterned cloths that made the room similar to his house, giving the illusion of a tight and safe nest. MoMA was completely right. This is definitely a film worth watching in the big screen; a TV set or a computer monitor would tune down such stunning aesthetics.

The Silence of the Lambs, by Jonathan Demme

Trailer

The Silence of the Lambs continues to be one of the most influential and startling horror films ever made twenty years after its release. Even if the continuous exposure to violence in culture has created high degrees of callousness in society, this film has tapped into raw and instinctual human fears. Jonathan Demme explores in the film the land of psychology and its terrifying effects, attaining a strong primal bond between the audience and the characters.

The cinematographic choices made in The Silence of the Lambs allow the audience to connect on an instinctual level with the protagonist of the film, Clarice. It is shot from her point of view in such a deliberate way that this connection becomes unavoidable from the opening scenes. The camera follows her closely, revealing no more than what Clarice’s eyes reach and touch. Therefore, we take on the protagonist role, and Clarice becomes only a shell that embodies our actions. The technique used to make such an effective bond between protagonist and audience is the use of shot-reverse-shots from Clarice’s point of view. It is startling when characters talk directly into the camera. Their steady stare is uncomfortable to maintain not only because of the rareness of this kind of shot in mainstream films, but also because they are combined with extreme close-ups, tight framing, and steady eye-level camera angle, making the dialogue even more intruding and direct.

It was clever of Demme to use these techniques to intensify the horror emanated by The Silence of the Lambs. The forth wall is completely removed, and the mortifying story, that is supposed to take place only within the movie screen, trespasses into the real life of the dim theaters. Once Dr. Hannibal Lecter is introduced, the audience realizes that their sheltered role as spectators is completely disrupted. At that point, it becomes evident that the continuous and repetitive warnings of “do not touch the glass, do not approach the glass” were directed not only to Clarice but also to the audience. The glass symbolizes the theater’s screen, a theoretically isolating and safeguarding entity meant to maintain Dr. Lecter at a safe distance from them. Therefore, it is especially gripping and petrifying when Dr. Lecter first talks to Clarice, who is able to identify the lotion she was wearing by simply smelling the air that leaked through the glass. “You use Evian skin cream, and sometimes you wear L’Air du Temps, but not today.” Not only is such an action conceived as almost impossible, but it also demands a certain proximity and contact that have not taken place between them. Could he also be able to discern the lotion that the viewer is wearing? This scene becomes the first sign of Dr. Lecter’s ability to reach out from his dividing wall. Combined with such an unsettling banter, Dr. Lecter looks directly into Clarice’s eyes, and in concordance into the our eyes while stepping closer to the camera as he talks, making the comforting space between him and the audience thinner with every minor movement.

It is interesting to notice that the only occasion in which Dr. Lecter does not stare into the camera is when giving away valuable information about the killer, Buffalo Bill. The dividing glass rematerializes as thick as ever, and we are only able to see his ghost-like blurry reflection on it. This sequence might be the only one in which the viewer whishes to have Dr. Lecter’s penetrating stare focused on them. However, we are completely alienated and reminded of our impotence as spectators, preventing us from actively scrutinize Dr. Lecter’s facial expression to determine, along with Clarice, the truthfulness behind his words. Dr. Lecter explains that the moth found in the last victim’s throat signifies change: “caterpillar into cocoon into beauty.” Such clue signals not only the nature of the killer as a transsexual, but it also indicates the change in the relationship between Dr. Lecter and us, the audience. He has metamorphosed from a frightening figure to a trustworthy one, and therefore, the previously longed dividing glass has gowned to be an obstacle.

Because Clarice feels lost without the guidance of Dr. Lecter, we are lead to place complete trust in him, which is fortified by the editing technique. For the most part of the film, questions posed in one scene are immediately answered by the following one. Such cause-effect editing style is mostly evident when Dr. Lecter adverts Clarice that the killer “must already be looking for his next special lady.” This scene cuts to a close up of a young lady driving back home. Even though there has been no prior indication of her role, there is no doubt that she is the next victim and that the killer will soon be introduced. Thus, the editing transforms distant realities into reactionary events. It embodies a tacit understanding that Dr. Lecter is the narrator of the story; the only one with the abilities to find and show the correct relationship between the scattered clues that Clarice has collected.

The editing style is enhanced by the extensive use of bridges of sound. Dialogues trespass their original scenes to become non-diagetic sounds that fuse two different shots. In addition, the mise en scène is organized with the underlying purpose of promoting the association of apparently scattered and arbitrary elements. Written signs are used extensively as both establishing and foreshadowing elements. For instance, during the opening sequence, the camera pans down from the sky to a wooden sign attached to a tree that reads the words “Hurt, Agony, Pain, Love-it.” This sign sets the tone for the entire film. It could not spell out more clearly the nature of the case that is about to be unwrapped; a case involving serial killers and psychopaths who enjoy and love inflicting pain and agony unto others.

Demme is particularly sharp at teasing the audience after he meticulously creates an environment in which they completely trust on the cause-effect editing and mise en scène. Such implicit understanding of the sequence of effects is used to destabilize the audience and create a significant climax towards the end of the film. As the police prepare to break into the killer’s house, the rapid editing between the killer and the police creates the illusion that they are in the same place. Such illusion is maximized by the use of the house bell as a sound bridge. As the audience believes that the police have finally gotten the killer, they are completely shocked to realize that the person knocking Buffalo Bill’s door is Clarice instead of the S.W.A.P. team. In addition to this startling scene, the use of off-screen space is crucial to intensify the thrilling sensation that has built up to this moment. As Clarice realizes that the man in front of her is Buffalo Bill, she stumbles around the house, trying to catch him. The camera follows her closely through the hallways of the confusing maze that is the house, disorienting the viewers who were already somewhat familiar with this space. Such chase is claustrophobic and frightening because neither the audience nor Clarice get a glance of the killer’s location. However, such feeling is maximized when, after having found a bathtub filled with decomposed body parts, the lights go off and a few seconds of complete darkness invade the theater. At such point, it is obvious that the killer knows where Clarice is, making the dark off-screen space become even more absolute and terrifying.

It is precisely these kind of cinematic elements that make The Silence of the Lambs penetrating and frightening. Jonathan Demme demonstrated that seconds of darkness can create a much petrifying effect than explicit violence. In addition, the perpetual use of point of view shots causes the story and their characters to slowly but steadily enter into the psyche of the audiences. In fact, they are not able to follow Crawford’s initial advice: “you're to tell him nothing personal. Believe me, you don't want Hannibal Lecter inside your head.” Precisely the opposite takes place. Dr. Lecter infiltrates into the audience’s heads in such a way that an inevitable smirk of complicity crosses their faces as he points out that he is “having an old friend for dinner.”

The Last Laugh, by F.W. Murnau

Because The Last Laugh only uses one caption through the entire film, it relies heavily on images and the way the camera is able to portrait feelings and messages. Thus, it is not surprising that The Last Laugh has been “considered the source of cinematic innovations” (Kracauer, 102). For instance, in the scene in which the porter wakes up with a hangover after a wedding party, F.W. Murnau uses handhold camera to signify his point of view. This camera movement is combined with a rotating shot of the room in which the walls seam to spin as they do after significant alcohol intoxication. The scene becomes nauseating for the audience, thus completely associating it with the porter. Murmau also uses close ups and zooms in order to direct the attention of the audience toward important details for the narrative. For instance, when a hotel employee is stripping the porter off his uniform, there is a zoom of his shoes as he looks down after a button of his jacket broke. This man’s life is his job, without the uniform that corroborates his position, he feels like he was reduced to the lowest social level parallel to the floor. Later, in a medium shot, the camera pans up and down as he looks at himself feeling naked without the uniform. Another devise used by Murmau throughout the film is the thoughtful arrangement of the image in the frame. During the scenes that show the porter’s neighborhood, there is a recurrent use of long shots in which the people fill only the bottom of the frame. This framing places the neighborhood as a medium to low social class; they are at the bottom of the society as they are in the frame.

It was very original and thought provoking the fact that The Last Laugh’s only caption is to acknowledge the unrealistic ending of the film. I had never seen such an ending before. It is a way to bring the attention to the differences between reality and fiction, and the God-like authority that authors have over the character’s lives. It is also an effective transition to demonstrate the need that audiences have for nonsensical happy endings. It gives the audience a way to walk out of the theater feeling uplifted, yet with a predominantly bitter after taste. Thus, the problems in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari's ending, which “glorified authority and convicted its antagonist of madness,” are confronted and criticized.

The Kite Runner, by Marc Forster

Trailer

As renown German film critic Kracauer, I will reconstruct through memory the story, motives, and techniques used in The Kite Runner in order to attempt their interpretation under a sociological and psychological light. The Kite Runner relates the story of an Afghan man who, after having immigrated to the United States, is pulled back to his old country to rescue the son of his childhood best friend. The book, and in concordance the film, were meant to reveal, through a fictional story, the reality of the Afghan society. It opens the doors to a world that most westerns are completely foreign to, making critical objections to the political, social, and economical structures of the country. However, after revealing shocking realities such as despotic governments that do not obey any law, and the normality of child trafficking, the story concludes with a happy ending that would be highly unlikely in real life. It is obvious that the film was catered to an American audience which, in the middle of the burst of the Iraq war, needed some kind of assurance that, by invading another country, they had once again done the right thing. This is a classical example of a film that is trying to secure the moral of its audience: “saving individual people is a convenient way to prevent the rescue of the entire class.” Only one kid is rescued out of millions who are left to sex trade, slavery, and famine in the country. However, we can feel good that the main character, the one we were able to connect emotionally through the film, will live a different type of future. The Afghan boy, after having been abused in every possible way by his society, is rescued by the good Americans. He now has a bright future ahead of him full of opportunities. It is disappointing, to say the least, that after so much criticism made to the formal political system in Afghanistan, little or nothing is mention about possible solutions apart from emigration and needing a foreign force to rescue the society.

Nosferatu, by F.W. Murnau

F.W. Murnau used a number of techniques to emphasized oddity and horror in his film Nosferatu. Such techniques include editing, shadows, chiaroscuro, close-ups, negatives, superposed images, and mises en scène that emphasize symbolic gestures and objects. A scene in which the editing technique creates a horrifying effect is the night when as Nosferatu is chasing Hutter, who had just found out that he is a vampire. As Nosferatu approaches Hutter, Murnau cuts the scene to a high angle shot of a forest and river, which are shaped as a distorted image of the vampire. When the shot returns to Hutter’s bedroom, there is coat hanging on the wall that is also extremely similar to the vampire’s body. The interposition of these images in the editing of the scene creates the feeling that there is no escape from Nosferatu. The use of symbolic cues can also be identified in the beginning of the film when Hutter first steps into his hotel room. As Hutter enters into the room, the first thing he does is placing his hat on the bed. In some places of Europe such as Italy, popular folklore sustains that placing a hat on the bed is a sing of death. Therefore, this early shot is an establishing shot or premonition to what is to come in the film.

In addition to symbolic cues and editing techniques, Murnau masters the use of chiaroscuro and shadows. For example, the scene in which Nosferatu is silently watching his pray is especially spooky because, within the complete darkness of the room, we partially see his face in the light. The use of shadows aggravates his awkward features, making him even more scary.

According to Ashbury, there are numerous possible interpretations for the film. I believe that the most accurate would be interpreting the film as “a complex meditation on the dynamics of human desire” (59). According to this point of view, the film is exploring the human psyche and its retrieving desires as we enter into adulthood and thus into the norms of society. Nosferatu is constantly paralleled with other animals that are killing their preys. Therefore, this editing places him in the same sphere of animals, taking him out of the human society and bringing him back to his instinctive nature. Nosferatu thus represents the human desires and instincts that are suppressed once humans abide to the norms of society.

The Docks of New York, by Josef von Sternberg

The Docks of New York is an unusual love story. During his one and only night at shore, Bill, a sailor, rescues a woman from drowning after she had attempted suicide. With the help of some locals, the lady regains consciousness and joins Bill at the local bar. After a couple of drinks, and a conversation about the reasons why neither of them is married, they come to the conclusion that they should get married that same night. Odds are that a priest was around the bar, and he agrees to marry them. However, after dawn, duty calls Bill and he leaves the lady to embark on his ship. As Bill is working, he realizes that he had fallen in love with his wife and wanted to stay at shore. He jumps in the water and swims back to town. Searching for his wife, Bill eventually finds out that she is in jail. Confused, Bill goes to court and learns that the lady was charged for possessing stolen clothes, which Bill had given to her the night they met. Once again, he rescues the lady by taking the blame for the robbery and being condemned for six months in jail. Free of charges and with love in her eyes, the lady reassures Bill that she would wait for him her whole life.

In the beginning of the film, there is an extreme high angle shot of an anchor being released into the water. The anchor falls into the water with such a pressure and weight, that it gives the impression of been a dead body. This early shot is a give away of what will happen throughout the film. The extreme high angle of the water is repeated when the lady is attempting suicide. She wants her body to stay in the depths of the see like the anchor. This shot can also be seen as foreseen Bill’s future in the film. At this port, he will be anchored like the ship, without been able to leave when he wishes.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, by Julian Schnabel and Francois-Xavier Decraene

Trailer

Nowadays, societies are dominated and led by deadlines and work. People live in a frenetic pace which inhibits them from enjoying their lives. Yet ironically, they have lost the concept of time, believing their youth and golden years will last forever, and thus, forgetting that the fragility and volatility of the balance and harmony of their bodies can be damaged and reduced to ashes in an instance. They neither take care nor enjoy the healthy functions of their bodies while they can. This chronic condition of living without being in the moment is the main criticism made to our society by the French film The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, directed by Julian Schnabel and Francois-Xavier Decraene.

The film is based on the novel Le Scáphandre et Le Papillon by Jean-Dominique Bauby, which relates the author’s story shortly before dying. This motion picture is heart breaking and eye opening since it effectively drives the spectator into the insights of being a living vegetable. It is filmed from the prospective of the patient, making the audience live his life for two hours, which afterward, hopefully puts under prospective their own way of facing life.

Baudy was a successful Parisian men. He was the editor of Elle magazine, and was enjoying his single life after having got divorced from his wife and three children. He, as many, thought that he had all the time in the world to fix his mistakes. However, at age 42, he had a massive stroke which led him first into a three-weeks coma, and then into a “looked-in” syndrome, which means that the only functional parts of his body were his brain and his left eye. “My whole body is encased in a kind of diving suit.” Now, the once forgotten biological instinct of blink has become Baudy’s only connection with the outside world. With the assistance of a speech therapist, Baudy learned to communicate his approval or disapproval with a single or double blink, and after a while, he would dictate his thoughts by blinking at the speech therapist’s recital of the alphabet.

Given his condition, his life was a reason of pity because of the insignificance that it was reduced to. However, he defied this share notion by writing a book since, as he said, “other than my eyes two things aren’t paralyzed, my imagination and my memory.” He literally wrote his book in a blink of an eye, he would memorize what he wanted to write, and then blink it to an assistant who would write his thoughts. “My task consists to write the motionless travel notes from a castaway on the shores of loneliness.” His willingness to live was equivalent to Virginia Woolf’s moth, which never gave up its life, it fought for it and got it back for a final goodbye flight that revealed the importance of appreciating our own life, even if it might be insignificant for the rest of the world.

Baudy’s life, after having had the stoke, was an early representation of elderly people’s reality. He did not have the autonomy of deciding things by himself, most of the time he was alone at the hospital, he would feel guilty by seen his family suffering because of his condition and, if his loved ones came to visit him, he would feel ashamed of his appearance.

This movie is a wake up call that helps understand the importance of living the moment instead of the dream of a better future since the only things that are certain in our lives are the past, that we cannot go back to, and the present that we are living today. Moreover, no matter the old age or critical condition we have, the present should never be wasted to wait for death. It should be seen as a gift that has to be enjoyed at its full extension.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, by George Roy Hill

Trailer

It might not seem completely suitable to classify Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid as a pure Western film given its shades of irony and comedy and criticism of society. In fact, the genre was adapted and molded to better fit the audience of its time. It depicts the American West under an unexpected light because it translates the viewers’ realities and anxieties into the typical story of the outlaw cowboys. American’s fear to enter an unavoidable period of severe economic distress was the blueprint for the protagonists’ quest to escape from a force that seemed impossible to deceive.

Throughout the film, the protagonists question their way of life. They realize that no matter how far they run, justice and the law are chasing after them and aiming for their lives. After such an identity crisis, Butch and Sundance decide to go straight and start earning money the honorable way. The juxtaposition of opposite realms set forth by this film, especially from this moment on, are interesting to notice. While the audience comes to believe that Butch and Sundance are callous to danger because they were constantly involved in armed robberies, their actual uneasiness when having to work is a shocking reality. It is unexpected to realize that they were scared to be robbed by local bandits when coming back from the bank. As legendary outlaws, one would think they could defend themselves from an ambush. However, it is even more perplexing when Butch, faced with the Bolivian bandits, immersed in a panic attack confesses that he has never killed a person before. He tries to convince the Bolivians to leave, imploring them as his last resource to avoid killing them. However, such pleading do not have the desired effect, and they end up shooting at each other. The killing scene is shot in slow motion, showing the bandits bodies falling and contorting in an unnatural way while an excruciating scream overshadows every sound to then dissolve with the wind. This is the first time that regret crosses Butch and Sundance’s face.

Even though it is common in the western genre that the “hero stands between […] two thematic poles” (Bordwell, 338) such as good and bad, law and outlaw, civilization and savagery, this equation had a particular twist in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Butch and Sundance did not decide to join the forces of order out of remorse, but rather as a way to trick the police who was following their steps. However, the key difference between this film and the rest of its genre is revealed after Butch and Sundance killed the Bolivian bandits. Sundance breaks the deafening silence by saying “well, we’ve gone straight. What do we try now?.” This line is followed by a despair conversation in which they come to the conclusion that there is no other path of life different than robbing banks. “It seems that the drifting cowboy is condemned to live outside civilization because he cannot tame his grief and hatred” (Bordwell, 339).

This sequence is a bitter and stinging criticism to society. Citizens are forced to become killers when they abide by society’s norms, which might be the main reason why outlaws such as Butch and Sundance were liked, praised, and admired by the media and the society. They represented not only a legend and a dream, but also a promise of freedom, breaking loose, and living without absurd obligations.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is the perfect example of the western genre’s evolution across history. The general guidelines of the genre were modified in order to better fit its time and its audience’s concerns. For example, it is worth noticing that the use of costumes as building blocks for the characters’ personalities and story line is a diversion from the norm of the genre. In most western films, the costumes are generally standard, and thus, they do not take on any particular meaning. However, in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid “costume is ichnographically significant” (Bordwell, 338). In fact, George Roy Hill cleverly uses hats as objects that are the outer representations of what the person wearing them is feeling. For example, when Butch is especially happy and joking, such as during the bicycle ride with Etta, he is no longer wearing a cowboy hat but rather a bowler hat that resembles Charlie Chaplin’s style. In addition, hats take on a protagonist role by drastically changing the path of the story. After spotting a white hat from a crowd in Bolivia, which was the distinguishing mark of the person chasing Butch and Sundance in America, they decide to abandon their lives as robbers and began working to earn a living.

In addition, among the elements that can be identified as a mutation from the original western genre is the composition of the dialogues. Even during the most sober scenes, dark comedy and irony are constantly present, which was a recurring characteristic of this period’s films, no matter the genre. The elements of laughter and jokes became coping mechanisms to make situations lighter and bearable for both the protagonists and the audiences. By integrating in the film slices of its audiences’ realities, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid passes from been a simple story to escape from the routinely concerns to an encoded criticism of its time.

Pandora's Box, by G. W. Pabst

Motion pictures have the potential to generate innumerable reactions and feelings in its audience given the wide range of resources they possess to convey information. Such resources include, to mention a few, editing techniques, mise en scene, camera angles, costumes, lighting, framing, sound effects, characters dynamic, camera movement, and dialogues. Therefore, what we see on screen is not a coincidence but the result of prearranged compositions. We are usually influenced by such compositions without truly realizing it. This is why it is interesting to scrutinize single segments and shots in order to understand how the director was able to convey messages and generate feelings in our minds.

This kind of analysis is mostly revealing when we study directors that were masters in influencing their audiences with an apparently imperceptible touch such as G. W. Pabst. In Pandora’s Box, he was particularly agile in creating such effects. For instance, in the sequence of Mr. Schon’s death, we enter in Mr. Schon’s psyche and see most of the scene from his point of view. More specifically, in shot “h” we are presented with a medium two shot in which Lulu and Mr. Schon are shot from the waist up. This shot is also an over the shoulder shot, which focuses on the reflection of Lulu and Mr. Schon in the mirror of their wedding room, discreetly giving the impression that three persons are in the scene. Pabst is therefore playing with the idea of trilogy and love triangle. Moreover, by showing the back and the front of Lulu, it is suggesting that she is a two-face woman, divided between two men.

The arrangement of the costumes in this shot also correlate to the fact that the scene is a point of view shot from Mr. Schon’s mind. The fact that he had just found Lulu in a compromising situation with her old patron and his son Alwa makes him think about Lulu as a deceiving and impure woman. Her dress is consequently exposing her shoulder, as if she was trying to manipulate Mr. Schon with her repeatedly used sexuality. In addition, there is a strategic use of chiaroscuro in their costumes to convey contradictory ideas of good and bad, pure and impure. For instant, while Lulu’s dress is white and shimmer, her chest is darkened by shadows. On the other hand, Mr. Schon’s suit confines him in a dim and dark case, however, his chest is glowing with a radiant white vest. The color codes in this shot create the analogy that Lulu’s heart and soul are dark, dishonest, and full of secrets, and thus, her radiant exterior is no more than a deceiving cover. Along the same lines, Mr. Schon may appear as a controlling and gloomy men who, in reality, is good in the inside.

Another aspect of the composition of this shot is its closed frame. The two characters seem entrapped by the edges of the mirror, provoking a claustrophobic sensation. Mr. Schon appears to be pushing and entrapping Lulu inside the mirror. This shot is recorded with a shallow focus in which only the reflections in the mirror are detailed and focused. The shallow focus choice makes the point of view shot more effective because it emphasizes Mr. Schon’s anger, which is so intense that it becomes blinding. He is not able to see at Lulu directly in the eyes, he needs another medium to do so, the mirror.

The Limey, by Steven Soderbergh

Steven Soderbergh uses sound effects and editing techniques in an extremely unconventional matter in The Limey to break temporal and spatial conventions. They represent the cement of the bridges that enable crossing from the present to the past and future, through flashbacks and flash-forwards. In addition, these techniques allow Soderbergh to reveal or blur elements of the story line and traits of the characters as he sees more pertinent. For example, throughout the first meeting between Wilson and Elaine, the scene is interrupted by pieces of fantasy and inner thoughts, transforming an initially formal and cold encounter into a much more intimate and personal interaction. Thus, by synchronizing the editing with the alternative use of diegetic and non-diegetic sound, Soderbergh is able to build successful temporal and special bridges.

Even though the film is unquestionably interesting in terms of experimentation, it has significant flaws. The exaggerated acting style of Terence Stamp occasionally distracts and draws the audience out of the story. For instance, when Wilson is talking with the head DEA agent, his over the top acting style mixed with the strong English accent and the jumpy and disorienting editing, leave the viewer as puzzled as the DEA agent, who’s only words are to sympathize with the audience: “the thing I do not understand is every mother fucker word you’re saying.”

In order to avoid this kind of flaws while experimenting at the highest with sound editing, it was necessary to create a plot that, even if somewhat thrilling, is simplistic and dry. It is not an especially mind-stimulating story in which the audience becomes active in trying to solve the mysteries posed throughout the film. However, if Soderbergh had sought that, The Limey would have turned out to be a complete fiasco. The viewers’ minds are sufficiently tangled and occupied at trying to solve another kind of mystery: making some sense out of the editing and sound techniques.

There is an early scene that, even if quite subtle, stands out from the whole as foreseen the role of this film in the industry. The scene begins with a close up of the emblematic picture of Ché Guevara, the hero of multiple Latin American’s revolutions, with his chin held high, looking over the horizon into a different future. The camera pans up from Ché’s picture, which is printed on Eduardo’s shirt, as he agrees with Wilson to kill Valentine. The reference to Ché is important to notice because, as a man whose image screams ‘revolución,’ in this context it embodies the role taken by The Limey in the film industry. This film is an experimental and revolutionary work that tends to irritate and disorient viewers by breaking the cinematographic conventions that allow viewers to process and understand films in a comfortable and easy way. Soderbergh unveils the viewer’s eyes by revealing the medium that is behind the production. The audience cannot sit thought this film without thinking about the editing and sound techniques employed.

Rebel Without a Cause, by Nicholas Ray

Motion pictures have the potential to generate innumerable reactions and feelings in their audiences given the wide range of resources they possess to convey information. When such resources are used successfully, films can take on an almost hypnotic quality. In fact, it is not a coincidence that cinema has been widely used as propaganda by governments such as the Soviet Union and the Nazis. This is because films are able to transmit ideas and irrational feelings through subtle means that speak directly to the subconscious of their audiences. It is as if the images achieved through the mise en scène whispered to the audience a secret that cannot be spelled out. The audience might feel threaten and scared by a character without knowing that such feelings are in direct correlation with the specific camera angle, framing, and light used in the scene. This is why it is intriguing to scrutinize single segments and shots in order to understand how a director was able to convey messages and generate specific feelings in their audience’s minds.

This kind of analysis is mostly revealing when we study directors that were masters at influencing their audiences such as Nicholas Ray. In Rebel Without a Cause, he was particularly agile in creating such effects through the evocative use of color. Thus, objects abandon their mundane role as props and take on meanings through their association with either the color red or blue.

For example, the role of Jim’s jacket changes and evolves through the film, as does its color. In the opening scene, his jacket is black and somber, suggesting the inner feelings of Jim. He was enraged at his family and new city. In fact, the jacket is a symbol of such life and social status, which direct contact to his skin seems to burn him. He is constantly talking it off and throwing it away, but then putting it back on because he cannot be stripped of his identity for too long. In addition, when his family appears at the police station to pick him up, he cannot stop playing with his father’s jacket, mocking his high status and suggesting that it is no more than a costume.

However, when Jim goes to meet the group of classmates that had challenged him to prove his honor, he changes his clothes and puts on a red jacket. By wearing this jacket, Jim is always visible, standing out from the crowd. The combination of his blue jeans, white shirt, and red jacket resemble Superman’s costume. In fact, from this moment on, he takes on the role of a hero. However, as in the Russian montage, the meaning emanated by the red jacket changes according to the editing, composition of the frame, and the proximity of Jim to specific objects. For example, when he is looking down the hill with Buzz, the combination of the extreme high angle and deep focus relate Jim’s jacket to blood, thus foreseeing what will happen in that hill. However, when Jim and Judy are in the same frame, Judy’s red lips stand out by its closeness to Jim’s jacket. In these scenes, the color red of the jacket and the lips symbolize the love, passion, and sexual tension that are building up between them.

On the other hand, the jacket takes on a much different meaning when it is worn by Plato. After the policeman shot him and he is lying on the floor, there is a low angle shot from the point of view of Plato’s inert body. From this angle, the tight framing shows part of Plato’s chest covered by the jacket and a close up of Jim crying. Jim bends towards his friend and zips the jacket, which is now soaked in blood, saying that “he is always cold.” In this closing scene, the jacket becomes a morgue bag that safeguards Plato’s ice-cold body. When Jim turns towards his father crying, the only thing he manages to do to nourish his son is putting his own jacket over his shoulders. Here, this brown jacket represents a neutral comforting and reaffirming element.

Another occasion in which the contrasting use of red and blue in the mise en scène is evident is when Plato, Jim, and Judy run away to an abandoned house. After joking and playing, Plato falls asleep and Judy and Jim notice that he is wearing an un-matching pair of socks. There is a close up of his feet to show that he is wearing a blue sock on his right foot and a red one on his left foot. There are a number of meanings that can be extracted from this composition. On the one hand, they are symbols of masculinity and femininity. It might represent the lack of parents and the desire to have such figures in his life. On the other hand, it is an outer representation of his conflicts with sexuality. Throughout the film, it is obvious that Plato is attracted to Jim for reasons other than a friendship. In fact, in more than one occasion he bends towards him as if trying to kiss him. Thus, the combination of red and blue externalize his inner confusion between masculinity and femininity. It is as if he had one foot standing here and the other there, he is turned apart between his instincts and his role in society. Moreover, the fact that the red sock is on his left foot and the blue one is on his right one, are a direct reference to goodness and badness. This shows that Plato is a kid that might still have a chance to correct himself even if he has a tendency to cross to the bad side.

Directors use the mise en scène not only to evoke and furnish their films with deeper meanings, but also as reference or quotation of famous paintings and films. In the case of Rebel Without a Cause, it can be said that the scene in which the police kills Plato is a direct quotation of Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin. There is no shot showing the face of the man who detonated the gun, dehumanizing the police force and showing the state as a killing machine like Eisenstein did. Moreover, as Plato falls down the stairs of the planetarium, the camera focuses on the reaction of Jim. The horror in his face resembles the multiple reaction shots used by Eisenstein when the baby’s carriage falls down the stairs, thus creating a more meaningful reaction in the audiences. Both Eisenstein and ray used the off-camera space to leave it to the audience to imagine the dead bodies.

When used thoughtfully, the mise en scène is an effective vehicle to bring to the surface themes, meanings, ideas, and feelings that would loose their momentous if they were simply spelled out through the dialogues. Therefore, the use of a specific framing, color scheme, costumes, lighting, and camera angles can be much more suggestive and ultimately effective to deeply connect with the audience.

Manhunter, Michael Mann

Trailer

Michael Mann meticulously uses form and stylistic elements in Manhunter to generate certain reactions in the audience. A recurrent motive is the use of color white, which is combined with glimpses of green neon light in the police department. Such glimpses of green light are tied to the meticulous placement of cactuses in the staging of the police department. These plants, which spur from unfertile and dry soils, embody the core characteristics of the department; they are rough and do not need to be taken care of. This could also translate to the way policeman treat their inmates; even though the jails are white, transparent, and sterile, there is a complete lack of nourishing and everyone has to take care of themselves in order to survive their own arid reality.

The use of color white is linked to the moon, a key element in the whole film. Mann introduces this theme with the opening scene, providing a premonitory cue for the audience. Will Graham is constructing a fence with his son to protect turtle eggs, which will be guided by the moonlight to find the sea once they are born. The moon represents a compass for the newborn turtles which, if followed correctly, will lead them into life. However, such positive approach towards the moon rapidly shifts since it becomes an ally of the killer by illuminating his path towards his victims. As the film progresses, we are introduced to the obsession that the killer has with the moon. He owns a large poster of the moon in his living room and the texture of the walls of his house resembles the craters of the moon. The Tooth Fairy killer resembles a nocturnal animal, who knows his way around the darkness of the night, yet is trying to reach out for the warmth of the sun. In fact, after he had sex with the blind woman, he finds her in the deck and tells her to say there because she “look[s] so good in the sun.”

Such need to connect with somebody in an emotional level is also represented by the body language of the killer. The movement of his hands is similar to Frankenstain’s. He is trying to reach out to the world in search for love and social acceptance. This is mostly evident during the scene in the deck, where the killer is talking with the blind woman under the twilight. Hands and touch represent a significant theme throughout the film. For instance, the police are able to find a fingerprint of the killer because he had the need to touch the victim’s eyes after having killed her. Such key correlation between touch and eyes leads to the killer falling in love with a blind woman, who counts on the touch of her hands to grasp an understanding of her surroundings. The fact that each thematic of the film leads to another and, at the same time, are in some level linked to one another, made the film successfully unified.

A little Treat... Sour Death Balls, by Jessica Yu

Video

Here is a little candy treat for you. I loved every second of this shot film. Watching it, you realize how important facial expressions are to convey messages, no matter if it is a silent or sound film. Enjoy!

(PS, I'm sorry you have to go to youtube to watch the video, I haven't figure out a way to upload videos and make them work yet... I'll keep working on it!)

Back on Track!

I'm back! I’m sorry for such a long absence; school is keeping me quite busy lately. But I’ve decided to take the time for something I really enjoy: watching, thinking about, and commenting on films. I’ll be writing about the films I’ve been watching for the past months. You should be aware that they are mostly related to the classes I’m taking. Thus, I’ll touch upon fewer new releases than the past summer. Sadly, the golden times of the Sydney Film Festival are over, and I am now back at trying to get the most out of historically influential works. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

The End

I cannot believe this intense journey is actually over. As soon as we landed in Sydney, we adopted the State Theater as our second home. The walk and bus drive from Broadway down to George Street became part of our daily routine. Even if we are probably the only group of students that has not seen a kangaroo yet, we can proudly say that instead we were immersed in twenty-two different stories, places, times, fantasies and realities. Moreover, the opportunity to mingle, listen, and learn from the diverse pool of talented people that were regulars at the festival was a unique learning experience that can hardly be duplicated. I can honestly say that I was successfully unleashed by the magic of these moving pictures.

Lecture with Paul Byrnes about Asian Cinema

Today we had a very interesting guest lecturer, Paul Byrnes. He gave us an overview of Asian cinema, specifically from Japan and the three Chinas (main land China, Taiwan, and Hong-Kong). I had not realized before the lecture that because countries were industrialized in very different spans of time, its influence and representation in art varies significantly. Thus, the same kind of nostalgia and hate against industrialization that is found in Western painting could be found in Asian films a hundred years later.

Moreover, because I have a lot of Chinese close friends, I have always noticed the big gap that we have regarding the way we both think and see the government. Coming from Venezuela, a country that for the past ten years has undergone significant political turmoil, I cannot imagine not feeling distrust and being critical toward the government. However, my Chinese friends have never criticized their government nor their repressions. Thus, I thought it was very interesting to find out that there are many Chinese and Asians that do not approve this, which is expressed through their artistic projects. However, because a word in Chinese can mean more than one thing, it is extremely difficult to notice such subtle criticisms in their films. In addition, it was quite shocking the story he related us about a Chinese director whose work was banned and three years later became the head of the Chinese film department.

Lecture with Judith Ehrlick, dir of The Most Dangerous Man In America

It is always rewarding to listen to directors and producers talk about their projects. Putting a face to the persons responsible for creating films that transport me to different places changes the whole experience. Moreover, since I have never being even remotely involved in the making of a film, such process seems extremely difficult, long, and almost impossible. Thus, it is great to listen and learn from those that are part of the crowed that proves that after all it is not impossible at all to make films.

I am very disappointed that I did not include The Most Dangerous Man in America among the films I selected to see during the festival. I would have liked it a lot if we were required to go see this movie instead of Red Hill or The Killer Inside Me because I felt I could have gotten and understood much more from the lecture if I had seen it. However, I am lucky that it is an American movie which I will probably be able to find on the Internet later on.

I thought it is great that a film can be able to change people’s actions, perceptions, and attitudes toward their realities and lives, and the special strength that documentaries have to do so. They are real life examples, icons, and models that people can truly look up to. As Ehrlick said, “if Daniel Ellsberg did it and made it through, you and others can do it too.”

Ehrlick’s theory and approach to non-violence action was very interesting and inspiring. There was something she said that stuck with me after the lecture: “being a pacifist is not being passive.” This was especially meaningful because I come from Venezuela, a country that for the last ten years has being undergoing different kinds of self-destructive events that seem not to have an end.

Lake Mungo, by Joel Anderson

Trailer

If it wasn’t for a classmate that asked whether it was a true story or not, I would still be thinking that Lake Mungo was a real documentary. Given the style, unrecognizable actors, and footage used, I took it for granted that it was one of those inexplicable real stories. The funny thing is that as more home videos appeared to build up the story, I began thinking it was very odd that a family would record so much of their lives. However, further than that, I did not question it.

I think that they were very smart at using good actors that were completely unrecognizable. Their acting did not seem as if they were reciting a script. In addition, the kind of home pictures and home videos they used looked legitimate. I was skeptical about the girl appearing in the footages of the house’s hallway. Based on other horror movies I have seen, I thought that a ghost would probably not look like that, and if it did, it could not be recorded on a video as a tangible object. However, because they revealed that the brother made up those images, some of my doubts went away. After they showed how easily images can be fabricated with computers, I did not buy the whole story even if I kept thinking it was a real documentary.

I have to admit that because the film felt real, the story stock with me after having seen it. I kept seen my reflection on the computer screen and remembering the strange pictures in which the image of the girl would appear.

My Teharn For Sale, by Granaz Moussavi

Trailer

What an inspiring, moving, and eye opening film. The ways Granaz Moussavi accepted and worked with Iranian restrictions as a creative tool to produce this film was exceptional. The story kept me on the edge of my seat the entire time. The film was extremely well acted. It was like the actors were truly living the lives they were embodying, making it possible to connect in a very deep level with the audience.

Because I am a very curious person by nature, I love films that revel and tell you the stories and realities that we usually do not have access to under public light. Therefore, I was very interested about seeing this portrait of Iran and its underground culture. It is interesting to see the vast amount of artistic expressions that spur from repression.

In addition, as a person who lives between two cultures, Moussavi was able to represent the Iranian and Australian culture with the realistic understanding of an insighter. However, these insights have a particular perspective given the fact that she is interpreting such cultures from a certain distance as well. In fact, she explained that living in this limbo-like territory is painful, “I have no place in Iran and I have no place in Australia either.” It is like being part of both countries but neither on its entirely. However, she was able to master this condition in the making of her film. Australia is seeing as a sought paradise for some, a land of lost dreams for others, and a substitutive repressive land yet for others. As she shows this different range of attitudes towards Australia, she was able to provide specific tokens that symbolize the vast variety of the Iranian population.

Newsfront, by Phillip Noyce

I thought this movie was great to see as someone who is not Australian and do not know a lot about its culture and history. They were able to show how Australian society was affected by important and newsworthy happenings through a fictional story. They were very good and cleaver at interrelating such story with the news in a way that looked real. Moreover, we could see the society’s attitudes towards political matters and the way they changed as the reactions of those reporting the news changed as well.

I especially liked that it provided pieces of many aspects of the Australian society of that decade: television, cars, politics, economics, religion, war, porn, racism, and Olympic games, among others. However, I did not like the fact that the film jumped back and forth between black and white and color shots. I was confused and could not understand at first the reasons behind this.

Gallipoli, by Peter Weir

This war film was a moving picture about World War II from the Australian’s point of view. Being used to American war movies, this one struck as odd because you do not see blood and battles until the end of the film. It is interesting how the Australian depiction of war in films is mostly concerned about the people that went to the battlefields instead of the bigger political causes. In fact, they did not drill on the reasons they were fighting for and did not focus much on those in power. In stead, they followed the lives of two unknowns who thought that going to war could be beneficial once they got back home. Because they focused on the lives of the soldiers, the scenes in which they die are much more sad and painful, which I thought was a smart approach to make a stand against war.

The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, by Fred Schepisi

After learning that this film did not do well at the Australian cinemas because the population was not ready to see such a cruel depiction of their past, I grew curios to see it. I usually enjoy films that reveal untold stories and criticize their own society and past. The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith was in indeed a sad and harsh representation of the white world and their treatment towards the Aborigines. However, used to the history of America's conquest, where Natives were brutally wiped out from their lands, the treatment of whites toward Australian Aborigines seemed more civilized. In fact, because it was more a psychological violence, it reminded me a lot of the issues in the United States regarding racism and discrimination against African Americans.

After professor Fred pointed out in class, I realized the many symbols and visuals that were used to separate and identify the white world from the aboriginal world. For example, many of the shots from the white world were framed; we could glimpse to their world through doors or windows. However, once we entered the aboriginal world, we are overflowed by landscapes and extreme close-ups of animals and insects. Such vastness represented the freedom granted by Aborigines.