"ONE AM," by Charlie Chaplin

 Charlie Chaplin is known for using slapstick comedy to comment on society and ridicule bourgeoisie. For instance, in One AM, Chaplin embodies an intoxicated wealthy man who is completely ridiculed by his fancy and expensive furniture. Apart from the obvious fact that the man is drunk and can barely walk straight, Chaplin uses mise-en-scene to dig deeper in social commentaries. The whole film revolves around the fact that the objects filling his house plot against him. He is ridiculed by his own wealth. In addition, his house looks like a theater stage. Even though the stage might have been conceived for practical purposes, the fact that Chaplin decided to show it instead of creating the illusion of a real house expresses a deeper meaning and subtext to the film. It comments on the fact that this stratus of society is always acting on a stage, they are not real and do not have real feelings and problems. This might also have been the reason why Chaplin decided to strip his character from human relationships. Although he is wealthy, he does not have a family and lives alone in such a big house. Another interesting aspect developed by Chaplin in this film though the camera work, is the fact that he creates distance between the audience and the main character. The audience is not drowned into the life of the character and therefore there is no empathy towards him. 

"127 Hours," by Danny Boyle

            

                              127 Hours explores and portraits our generation’s habitual ritual to embalm and encapsulate our lives in photographs and videos. There is a shared frantic need to record every important moment we experience as to avoid loosing them in the abysms of memory. In 127 Hours, the characters’ first reaction to exciting and memorable experiences is to take their cameras out. “I can’t believe we just did that… a camera, a camera,” Aron, Kristi, and Megan euphorically yield after jumping in the secret pool. In addition, it is goes unsaid that such videos and pictures will end up on facebook in the matter of hours. If these pictures are not shared with a broad online community, it is as if they had never happened. Along the same lines, such concept supports the making of this semi-documentary film. It reenacts a crucial moment in the life of Aron which, to be truly relevant, had to be shared in a big screen with audiences around the world. No wonder he thinks this is the “best film ever made” (Barkham).  

            Cameras take another important role in this film. They embody a silent psychologist seating across the room, thus becoming the vehicle for self-reflection and auto-analysis. “Is it true that despite, or maybe because you’re a big fucking heart hero, you didn’t tell anyone where you were going? Oh, yeah, that’s absolutely correct.” Aron arrives to the core of his actions driven by his subconscious, which is something that in therapy usually takes a long time to decipher. In addition, talking to the camera helped him reflect about the state and meaning of his relationships with family, friends, girlfriends, and coworkers.

            Finally, the scene that everyone talks about is the gory sequence when he finally chops off his arm. Let’s first point out that such a scene would not have been so effective if he had taken his Swiss knife with him. “Lesson: Don't buy the cheap, made-in-China multi-tool.” This sharp observation or lesson plays out the common stereotypes of the low quality associated with every ‘made-in-China’ object. Nevertheless, this low-quality knife was ideal for Boyle to create a long and tiring sequence full of blood. I had heard the urban legends around 127 Hours about people in the audience fainting and vomiting by watching this part of the film. It seemed completely absurd, specially because audiences have been accustomed to lots of gory in the screen for example, with the chopping of a leg in Saw, or the continuous splashes of blood in Tarantino’s movies. The truth is that Boyle used the sound to create physical pain in the audience, thus making the gory of the scene much more acute than it would otherwise be. A very high pitch is synchronized with the cutting of a nerve, thus making the audience squirm in their seats. I would be curious to see this scene in mute, I am sure it would not be near as bad as it is with the music. 

N & F - Vintage Window Painting

My boyfriend and I have been working on this new project for a while. We've rescued vintage windows and painted them in order to transform them into artwork.

We showcased our work at the Second Annual Graduate Arts Soiree at MIT.

Hope you like them!

"Hugo," by Martin Scorsese

Beautiful cinematography and camera work. The camera floats effortlessly through smoke, people, pipes, and trains, and it is coordinated to perfection with the tempo of the music. However, eventhough the acting was overdone, we cannot forget that this is a movie meant for kids.

New generations, who have been borned in a highly technologized world, and thus are extremely used to things such as 3D films, live in a distant reality from Melie's audiences. In fact, an eight year old boy probably have no conception of a world without films. It is thus refreshing to see a filmmaker using this medium to teach non-filmmakers and young generations about the silver screen's history. That is why this film is a great example of filmmakers' power to educate the masses. Scorsese gave a fast overview of film history, alawing those who haven't studied film to learn about Méliès, the great train rubbery, and the Lumière Brothers, to mention a few.

"Slumdog Millionaire," by Danny Boyle

You can feel in every inch of this film that Boyle was giving it all to this project. He was invested and inspired by the city, people, colors, and stories that fill this country. As he has mentioned in some of his interviews, he is very childlike and likes “being immature on the set” (98). Therefore, filming in India must have been a playground for this mischievous grown-up. India presented itself as an obstacle course which stimulated Boyle’s ingenuity to come up with creative solutions that ultimately enhanced the final project. For example, he opted to use small digital cameras to camouflage the production and thus navigate unnoticeably through the masses of people and bureaucracy of the city. That is how, for example, he was able to film in the Taj Mahal, “where you aren’t allowed near anything” (136). If he had tried to follow the conventional path to obtain permits, he would have gotten lost in a web of bureaucracy. And thus, this scene, which provides a humorous and critical take on tourism, religion, and unique landmarks, would have been lost in paperwork.

In addition, the choice of using digital cameras allowed them to run free and completely amalgamate themselves to the beat of the city. From the opening scene, we are washed over by color and speed while Jamal, like the camera, teases authority by making his way through the cracks of the city. This free flowing camera work is combined with a wide variety of camera angles and exciting editing. We jump from a close-up of Jamal’s face to a wide view of the policemen running after Jamal, to a close-up of his feet, all in a matter of seconds. Such fast-paced editing is synchronized with an ascending drum melody that is exciting yet overwhelming, like running through the streets of India must be.

It is very interesting to see in Slumdog Millionaire the unusual combination of Boyle’s style with the city’s aesthetics. His characteristic dark undertones are in complete opposition to the façade of India, which is charged with vivid colors, music, and dance. Nevertheless, such façade undoubtedly conceals cruel and dark realities, which is why Boyle’s interpretation of the city feels incredibly honest. He repeatedly expressed in his interviews that for him, India is a country of extremes. He masterfully translated such extremes into a visual language by filling with color and light the core of the screen while concealing it into pitching black frames. This aesthetic choice illustrates the coexistence between the city’s vivid heart and the cruelties it bears.

After all these compliments about the film, I cannot leave untouched a major flaw that I noticed in the storyline which extremely bothered me while reading Boyle’s interviews. As a good businessman, Boyle noticed that interviewers and audiences responded well to the happy ending and love story. And therefore, he increasingly boosts these aspects, adding a twist that is honestly not present in the film. He sustains that the motivation of Jamal to participate in Who Wants to be a Millionaire? was love and only love. “It’s nothing to do with the money, it’s nothing to do with success or television or fame or glamour” (154). However, what is the logic behind “staying in the chair for long enough, [so] she’ll see him and they can reconnect”? (154). Latika had already seen him, why would it be different this time? Money. The truth is that without money, Latika would not run away with Jamal. She expressed it clearly when they saw each other at the gangster’s house. Her first reaction to Jamal’s invitation to run away was thinking about their lack of money: “run away, where? and live of what?” Therefore, Boyle sugar-coded the obvious reason of Jamal to join the show. He was surely in love, but what he was truly after was the money because without it he could not get the girl.

"Sunshine," Danny Boyle

Once again, Boyle worked on a film in which he explores the dynamics of a group of outsiders. In this case, eight astronauts are forced to cohabit in a claustrophobic environment for the greater good of humanity. It was interesting that the cast, and thus the crew of the ship, was multinational. Nevertheless, their backgrounds and nationalities were not explored nor exploited; leaving untouched a rather interesting undertone of the story. The final message of Sunshine tries to present philosophical questions about a greater power and the figure of God. Thus, Boyle could have delved into the different ways in which people, based on their cultural background, interact with the concept of God, destiny, and greater power. No matter how globalized the world might be by 2057, exclusive traces of culture and religion will continue to run in the veins of different populations. Even if imperceptible during everyday life, such traces unavoidably come to the surface when people are faced with critical situation like the crew in Sunshine.

The fact that they are in space rather than on Earth does not make these people any less human, and thus Boyle was extremely simplistic by sustaining that “there’s no nationality in space, there are no national issues in space” (115). There must be because nationality is an irremovable package like one’s past. In fact, such argument becomes invalid by the fact that Boyle chose an Asian actor with a marked accent to be the one responsible for the collapse of the ship. It is as if Boyle took such casting decision in a subconscious level. He explained that “in fifty years time, it’s the Asian economies that will be paying for it and they’ll probably be leading the technologies as well” (114). Thus, he is contradicting himself and making a rather political statement by choosing an Asian to be the unreliable crewmember while the American, once again, saves the world.

The film leads to a conclusion that is too self-conscious. In a world post 9/11, the questions and fears regarding religious fanaticism are fresh and present in everyone’s minds. Thus, the fact that the mission becomes a fight against a delusive killer who might or might not have had an epiphany and talked to God, seemed to exploit in a superficial and simplistic way the very complex and delicate issue of terrorism. Few of the words spoken by the sunburned intruder explain his mission: “for several years I spoke with God. He told me to take us all to the end.” It is quite ironic that for a film that supposedly does not believe in national issues, its ending is intimately tied to them.

Moreover, up to this point, the images of the film were somewhat believable and realistic. However, as soon as the unstoppable killer is revealed, the story and aesthetics took a turn that ruined all the previous work. The characters fight in a paranormal cube that even if claustrophobic looks infinite, breaking the rules of logic imposed by the film.

"Millions," Danny Boyle

It was interesting to see how Boyle translated and accommodated his style for a children’s film. His signature camera techniques, aesthetics, and story lines were readjusted by changing their degree of intensity. For example, in his previous work, Boyle predominantly used fast editing synchronized with music to create a certain quality of dynamism and surprise as the actions build up towards the climax of the story. However, in Millions, editing was used to extend and emphasize key actions. For instance, when the thief threatens Damian and explains he will call at night to get the money back, the action of opening and closing the phone is repeated five times through the editing. By repeating the same action from different angles, a shot that could last a couple of seconds takes much longer to be completed. This editing technique was also used when the characters played with the money by throwing it into the air. As a result, the amount of money seems substantially greater as well as the joy it generates to its beholders.

In addition to editing as a technique to emphasize important actions, music was key to direct audiences’ attention and feelings. When Damian is in danger or close to the thief, a heavy breathing takes over the soundtrack. Nevertheless, such sound effect looses its initial strength and is stripped off its signaling power because it is heavily used throughout the entire film. Thus, by the end of the film the hunting breathing annoys the audience rather than frightening them. It seems as if Boyle was very conscious of the fact that Millions was meant for a younger audience, and thus he used music and editing techniques to ensure they would not miss important cues of the story. This methodic process, however, places the film on the borderline between succeeding and irritating the audience.

One of the cleverest scenes in Millions is when the nephew of a policeman explains where the money came from. The boy uses toys to relate the story to his peers in the screen as well as in the audience while Boyle crosscuts into real action to expand the story for the adults with an atrophied imagination. The colors in this sequence were corrected and boosted in post-production, creating high contrasts to dramatize the scene and create the right ambiance for the tale. In addition, there is a high synchronization between the toys and the real action which is achieved through fast cutting. Thus, such crosscutting not only allowed for an enhanced illustration of the story, but it also successfully catered to the two diverse generations that compose the audience.

The monologue of Damian at the end of the film seems to be reciting Boyle’s words: “that’s how he would want the story to end, with big piles of stuff. But it’s not his story. It’s mine. This is where I want it to end.” This speaks not only about the story per se, but also about the freedom and power that the person behind the camera has. Even though the audience may have thousands of ideas about how to spend the money, this is Boyle’s story and only he has the power of crafting its ending. In addition, it seems to be a stand against big studios since they are known for imposing positive and happy endings to mainstream films, which might have been the case with The Beach.