In what little I could verbalize about The Master, I spent most of it gushing about the amazing cinematography. Similarly, what is really mindblowing about Berberian Sound Studio is the sound, and how the film shows off the craft of making such a rich soundscape. The story follows Gilderoy, a sound engineer hired for an Italian film called "The Equestrian Vortex". Unfortunately, when he arrives, he finds out that the film has nothing to do with horses; The Equestrian Vortex is a graphically violent horror film which the director is convinced is nothing short of brilliance. Out of his element and working with a hostile producer and a director who considers the brutal violence to be art, he begins to lose himself in the process of bringing these sounds to life.
All we see of the film is the opening credits (taking place of a credit sequence for the actual film), but the real way we get the feel of Equestrian Vortex is by descriptions of certain scenes and the rich, disturbing, and at times nauseating soundscape that Gilderoy creates for them. Berberian Sound Studio truly shows how sound brings a film to life; Gilderoy creates crisp, descriptive sounds from fruits, vegetables, bubbling soup, sizzling oil, and aggressive ambient sound from a plethora of intimidating machines. The latter reminds me of the ambient sound from Eraserhead; it creates a cold, unsettling world both in Equestrian Vortex and the actual film, to the point where it can be nauseating.
Sound is also closely linked with violence; Equestrian Vortex is meant to be an homage to giallo films of the 70s (although in the Q&A I was at, director Peter Strickland noted that it's really closer to gothic horror than the giallo genre), which often had grisly murders, stylish camerawork, and unique soundtracks. Berberian Sound Studio could be seen as a celebration of the genre's soundtrack as well as a critique on the violence, particularly against women. Equestrian Vortex describes a variety of violence against witches and its two female protagonists, and Gilderoy spends a lot of time listening to them shriek over and over again while being belittled by the producer. While we don't see any of the violence that is filmed, we are forced to watch and listen to stabbing of vegetables, smashing of fruits, ripping of stems, and sizzling oil in lieu of murder and torture as the director tells Gilderoy that he is making art, not a horror film. Seeing the fruits and vegetables instead of the actual imagery circumvents any desensitization to onscreen violence, allowing the imagination of the viewer to put the sounds together with the descriptions of the scene.
There isn't a clear plot in Berberian Sound Studio; it is mostly about Gilderoy succumbing to the atmosphere of the sounds he has created and the hostile work environment This works perfectly for the first two thirds of the film, but the last third slips into something which is honestly hard to describe. Gilderoy 's descent into madness comes to a head, but then there's still around half an hour that's incredibly unclear. It's obviously a 'left up to interpretation' sort of thing, but it's hard to figure out what's real enough to interpret. It's much less "ambiguous" than just plain vague, and while it's interesting to experience it, there's no real fulfillment when the credits come up. The first two acts are strong enough to make it still worth watching, but the end is a glaring flaw.
Showing posts with label film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label film. Show all posts
Monday, October 15, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
David 8 and Ash
I’m pretty sure on Tumblr, David 8 is the most popular
character in Prometheus, and it’s not hard to see why. While I can be cynical
and say that it’s because he’s played by the absolutely stunning Michael
Fassbender (both in acting skill and in appearance), the fact is that David is
the most interesting character in the film. There’s a lot we don’t know about
him by the time the film ends, but while there’s room to speculate on his
motives, he doesn’t show the lack of common sense or character inconsistency
that the others do. Furthermore, he’s also the most developed character next to
Shaw.
But what makes David even more interesting is when he’s
compared to Ash from the original Alien. In general, I think that comparing
Prometheus to Alien is a terrible idea; the two films really don’t have much in
common besides the very basic premise (crew goes to planet, finds alien stuff,
everything goes horribly wrong); the structure of the film and the themes are
so radically different that expecting anything like Alien automatically breeds
disappointment. While Prometheus still has serious problems, treating it as an
Alien prequel makes it a complete failure. But it is interesting to look at
David as the precursor to Ash. I read on Tumblr someone asking how Ash would be
an improved version of David, and that got me thinking. On first glance, David
seems like more of a success than Ash; he’s friendly and congenial where
Ash is distant and cold, he seems to be more capable of emotion than Ash (or at
least has the capacity for empathy), and above all, he wants to be human (or at
least accepted as such).
Think of how we meet David; even if you hadn’t seen any of
the promotional material, you find out very early on that David is an android,
and it’s very quickly established that he admires humans and tried to be like
them. He models himself after Peter O’Toole in Lawrence of Arabia, down to
meticulously dyeing his hair, and although we’re told he cannot feel emotions
(which in sci-fi is almost always a lie), he shows visible disappointment when
Weyland says that he can never have a soul. We are meant to empathize with
David from the very beginning: he just wants to be accepted alongside other
humans.
[Actually, empathizing with David is kind of how I started
thinking about all of this; I was having a discussion with a friend about how
Tumblr tends to want to mother characters that they sympathize with, even when
they are not really a “sweet baby ____”. (I’m looking at you, Loki fangirls!) I
mean, I’m not completely free of that, but there is almost definitely a sector
of the internet that sees David as some sort of “sweet baby robot Pinocchio
prince”, despite the fact that he does some really creepy and amoral shit. I
was joking that wouldn’t it be funny if Tumblr treated Ash like some sort of
“sweet baby corporate robot”? My friend replied that it would never happen
because Ian Holm isn’t all handsome and pretty like Fassbender, and while that
is definitely true (though idk, there’s something to be said
for men Of An Older Age with brownish-grey hair and blue eyes…) there’s
definitely more incentive to like David.]
 |
| don't judge me man |
All of this makes sense within the film as well; David’s original purpose was created to take care of humans and work well with others, so he would naturally try to make a pleasant impression on others. He’s got these big blue eyes that kill you every time he looks hurt, and his status as a surrogate son allows him to have a unique personality compared to other androids of his same model. We learn that he’s taking orders from Weyland, but we never find out what they are, and they seem to be flexible enough that David can devote time to fixating on Shaw.
Ash, on the other hand, is pretty much the polar opposite of
David. [I should note now that I’ve only seen Alien once, and that was a while
ago, so I may not remember every Ash detail.] We assume he’s human for the
first half of Alien, though he separates himself from the rest of the crew.
He’s much shiftier than David, but while David can fall into the uncanny valley
of creepy smiles, Ash’s creepiness is much more plausible as human. We can see
that something is off about him, but he just seems at worst like that guy you
might be a tiny bit wary of when you’re the only two in the subway car at three
in the morning.
This all makes sense if you consider what Ash was presumably
made for; he’s a science officer. His primary duties have little to do with
social interactions, so he doesn’t bother with them. He doesn’t even really
seem to like humans all that much; he’ll pass as one, but he’s much more
attracted to the alien, to the point where he emulates the facehugger by trying
to shove a magazine down her throat. (Of course, there’s more to that scene
than pure emulation, but the rapey overtones of that scene and the facehugger
could be its own article.) Ash has no desire to be human; he just plays the
part when it suits him, and completely drops the façade once Ripley finds out
his orders. He’s purposefully more not-human that David, automatically
distancing himself from the viewer’s sympathies.
But the question is still unanswered: How is Ash an
improvement over David? The improvement is Ash actually sticks to his purpose
and nothing else. David is, by robot standards, unpredictable; he certainly
wasn’t told to be the dream equivalent of a peeping tom, and while he may have
been told to bring back the alien goo and infect someone with it, he clearly
chooses Holloway out of malice (and probably jealousy). Ash fulfills two main
purposes: pose as the science/medical officer for the crew, and bring the alien
back at all costs, and everything he does is directly related to those orders.
Some people speculate that Ash attacking Ripley is actually a malfunction, but
it follows the second order; Ripley was definitely going to warn the rest of
the crew, and he had to prevent that. What’s the easiest way to keep her from
talking? Kill her. This isn’t to say that Ash is completely logical; once
again, his choice of weapon proves that. But his desires still match up with
his orders, whereas David’s were completely unrelated.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Iron Man 2 - A lot of individually good stuff that doesn't fit well together
Iron Man 2 is a messy movie with a lot of individually good scenes, which makes a lot more sense once you learn that it's really two films mashed together: the second Iron Man story that Jon Favreau wanted to tell, where Tony Stark begins to spiral out of control as the world reacts to Iron Man, and the Avengers set up that Marvel wanted. While I'm not blaming the issues of this film entirely on the Avengers setups, they certainly don't help.
It's not as if the Avengers are incompetently shoehorned in; Nick Fury is really only in one scene, Black Widow has a plausible enough role, and they do play an important part in the plot. But it's still an unnecessary complication; something which could have been written more organically into the plot. And really, though I understand that of course Black Widow's supposed to be terse and somewhat cold, since she's a spy and only has to mildly tolerate Tony, the character just comes across as very flat, almost as if she's just there for set up and a cool lady in a catsuit fight scene.
I have to admit, when I first heard that the film wasn't up to the first one's level, I thought it would have to do with the double villains, but I'm convinced that's one part they got right. So many other comic book films fall into the trap of having two or three villains and not doing any of them true justice (I'm looking at you, Spider-man 3!), but Ivan Vanko and Justin Hammer not only both work as villains, they work well together. Sam Rockwell is amusingly awkward, pathetic, and despicable as weapons company rival Justin Hammer, and even ignoring my huge soft spots for anti-villains and Mickey Rourke, he's great as the Russian scientist out for revenge on Tony Stark. They play amazingly off each other as some sort of bizarre team-up/odd couple without devolving completely into comedy villains; I think they have some of the best chemistry in the film. I can only hope that more movies with multiple villains take a look at their dynamic, because there was obviously a lot of thought and care put into it.
The main reason Iron Man 2 doesn't live up to the original is that the components don't all fit together and are occasionally held together with cliches.
Okay, that was two things, but to be fair, the cliche thing is more of an opinion/pet peeve of mine than an actual concrete complaint. Let's focus on what we know. There are at least four components to the story.
#2 and #3 easily go hand in hand, but the problem is that while #3 is well expressed throughout the film, through both the Senate hearing and Ivan Vanko's role in the story, #2 isn't really touched upon besides the Senate hearing scene early in the film. We hear that Iron Man has solved conflicts around the world, and Tony certainly has decided that he has "privatized world peace", but there's not enough showing us the actual impact that Iron Man has had, and that's extremely important. In fact, all the plots really require us to understand how important Iron Man is; Ivan Vanko wants to destroy Iron Man's reputation, the government wants to claim that reputation, Justin Hammer wants to trump it, and Tony's having trouble keeping it all together. The individual threads work by themselves (particularly, once again, the villains), but that clarification would have really helped the film feel more cohesive.This also causes the Senate scene to come off as completely hollow; the memorable parts are all either obvious set up (Hey, here's Rhodey! And here's Tony's new rival!) or opportunities for Tony to fire off some smug bon mots. And, I mean, Tony being a smartass is part of why we love him, but, with the exception of him exposing Hammer's Iron Man attempts, it's actually a bit tiring. And while there's nothing inherently wrong about a scene being used for setup, it's frustrating when it's so obvious.
#1 is character development, which is always important, but I'm ambivalent on how it's handled. Tony deals with some very serious issues in a believable way, but sometimes these scenes are juxtaposed with others that just don't work together. The best example I have is the party scene leading to the Tony/Rhodey fight; the party scene is awkward and second-hand embarrassing, which is actually pretty brave in an action movie, but then the tone completely changes as we're taken from Tony's rock bottom moment of shame into a full-on supersuit fight complete with appropriate soundtrack. The fight leads to a few necessary plot points (all I'll say is that it's the precursor to the creation of War Machine), but it seems almost immature compared to the scene directly before it. This component of the film is also where Nick Fury and Black Widow intervene, which I think interrupts some of the emotional impact of what's going on with Tony.
But honestly, my problem with this area is that this is where the cliches lie. There are some really wonderful scenes between Tony and Pepper, but we also get a few frustratingly predictable bickering/misunderstanding scenes. Of course Tony can't truly tell Pepper, or anybody, what's wrong. Of course he's pushing people away. It might not be a huge deal for most people, but it's something we see all the time, and it just seems a bit lazy to me.
A lot of the time, people blame bad reception of a sequel on the hype that preceded it, saying that fans were just expecting too much or are unpleasable. In Iron Man 2's case though, I think it's completely justified. The first movie worked on so many levels, and while Iron Man 2 isn't awful, it's such a step down from the first one that it's legitimately disappointing. There's so much in the film that's good, but together it just doesn't work very well, and that's a very valid complaint. Viewers know that everyone involved is capable of doing better, and that's why people say Iron Man 2 sucked. It had so many tools to be just as good as the first movie, and...it just isn't.
It's not as if the Avengers are incompetently shoehorned in; Nick Fury is really only in one scene, Black Widow has a plausible enough role, and they do play an important part in the plot. But it's still an unnecessary complication; something which could have been written more organically into the plot. And really, though I understand that of course Black Widow's supposed to be terse and somewhat cold, since she's a spy and only has to mildly tolerate Tony, the character just comes across as very flat, almost as if she's just there for set up and a cool lady in a catsuit fight scene.
I have to admit, when I first heard that the film wasn't up to the first one's level, I thought it would have to do with the double villains, but I'm convinced that's one part they got right. So many other comic book films fall into the trap of having two or three villains and not doing any of them true justice (I'm looking at you, Spider-man 3!), but Ivan Vanko and Justin Hammer not only both work as villains, they work well together. Sam Rockwell is amusingly awkward, pathetic, and despicable as weapons company rival Justin Hammer, and even ignoring my huge soft spots for anti-villains and Mickey Rourke, he's great as the Russian scientist out for revenge on Tony Stark. They play amazingly off each other as some sort of bizarre team-up/odd couple without devolving completely into comedy villains; I think they have some of the best chemistry in the film. I can only hope that more movies with multiple villains take a look at their dynamic, because there was obviously a lot of thought and care put into it.
The main reason Iron Man 2 doesn't live up to the original is that the components don't all fit together and are occasionally held together with cliches.
Okay, that was two things, but to be fair, the cliche thing is more of an opinion/pet peeve of mine than an actual concrete complaint. Let's focus on what we know. There are at least four components to the story.
- Tony Stark is spinning out of control and doesn't know how to express it
- Iron Man has had enough of an effect on world politics that the government wants take control of it
- Iron Man has become a symbol of power that is, in a way, separate from Tony Stark the man
- So uhhh, there's this franchise we're planning on starting...
#2 and #3 easily go hand in hand, but the problem is that while #3 is well expressed throughout the film, through both the Senate hearing and Ivan Vanko's role in the story, #2 isn't really touched upon besides the Senate hearing scene early in the film. We hear that Iron Man has solved conflicts around the world, and Tony certainly has decided that he has "privatized world peace", but there's not enough showing us the actual impact that Iron Man has had, and that's extremely important. In fact, all the plots really require us to understand how important Iron Man is; Ivan Vanko wants to destroy Iron Man's reputation, the government wants to claim that reputation, Justin Hammer wants to trump it, and Tony's having trouble keeping it all together. The individual threads work by themselves (particularly, once again, the villains), but that clarification would have really helped the film feel more cohesive.This also causes the Senate scene to come off as completely hollow; the memorable parts are all either obvious set up (Hey, here's Rhodey! And here's Tony's new rival!) or opportunities for Tony to fire off some smug bon mots. And, I mean, Tony being a smartass is part of why we love him, but, with the exception of him exposing Hammer's Iron Man attempts, it's actually a bit tiring. And while there's nothing inherently wrong about a scene being used for setup, it's frustrating when it's so obvious.
#1 is character development, which is always important, but I'm ambivalent on how it's handled. Tony deals with some very serious issues in a believable way, but sometimes these scenes are juxtaposed with others that just don't work together. The best example I have is the party scene leading to the Tony/Rhodey fight; the party scene is awkward and second-hand embarrassing, which is actually pretty brave in an action movie, but then the tone completely changes as we're taken from Tony's rock bottom moment of shame into a full-on supersuit fight complete with appropriate soundtrack. The fight leads to a few necessary plot points (all I'll say is that it's the precursor to the creation of War Machine), but it seems almost immature compared to the scene directly before it. This component of the film is also where Nick Fury and Black Widow intervene, which I think interrupts some of the emotional impact of what's going on with Tony.
But honestly, my problem with this area is that this is where the cliches lie. There are some really wonderful scenes between Tony and Pepper, but we also get a few frustratingly predictable bickering/misunderstanding scenes. Of course Tony can't truly tell Pepper, or anybody, what's wrong. Of course he's pushing people away. It might not be a huge deal for most people, but it's something we see all the time, and it just seems a bit lazy to me.
A lot of the time, people blame bad reception of a sequel on the hype that preceded it, saying that fans were just expecting too much or are unpleasable. In Iron Man 2's case though, I think it's completely justified. The first movie worked on so many levels, and while Iron Man 2 isn't awful, it's such a step down from the first one that it's legitimately disappointing. There's so much in the film that's good, but together it just doesn't work very well, and that's a very valid complaint. Viewers know that everyone involved is capable of doing better, and that's why people say Iron Man 2 sucked. It had so many tools to be just as good as the first movie, and...it just isn't.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Chronicle - go see it
If the title didn’t tip you off, I really liked Chronicle.
To start off, the premise of “teens get powers” is elevated by the found footage style and the emphasis of character emotions instead of the details of their powers. We never find out what the object that gave them telekinesis is, and it doesn’t matter at all. This is about the main character, Andrew Detmer, his life and his issues, which in turn dictate how he uses his telekinesis.
Most of the film is presumably shot from one of his cameras, giving Andrew’s first person view or a static shot; we’re truly peering in on Andrew’s life here, the good and the very, very bad. As the film goes on, he uses his telekinesis for gradually more expressive shots and camera movements, almost as if he’s meaning to distance himself from us. The device works even better during the big action scene near the end (come on, if you saw an ad for this, you know there’s a fight), shown through surveillance, police cameras, and onlookers’ iphones. It hits home that there are actual people in danger during this fight instead of just stock onlookers to a superhero action setpiece.
I really kind of hate that Chronicle is being classified (and advertised) as the ‘watchable superhero movie; I’m not derisive of comic book movies or superhero films like a lot of people are these days, but this film is about so much more than just “teens get superpowers one is a villian oh noes!” We’re looking at three characters who don’t really care that much about The Greater Good; Andrew, Matt and Steve would much rather fly around, play pranks, show off, and record Jackass-esque attempts at controlling their powers than go out and save the world. And while Andrew could be described as “the villain”, I think that’s a lazy interpretation. His violent outbursts later in the film aren’t born from a concrete desire; he has a shitty home life and feels isolated and alone and his emotional arc is what causes his rampage. He wants revenge and to be left alone and to stop his pain, but his anger is so unfocused that it’s unfair to paint him as any sort of “bad guy”. It’s disappointing that Chronicle is being pushed into strict genre terms, because it’s really a great film that deserves to be discussed on its own merit.
(As a side note, I hope people see Chronicle if it’s still in theaters in your area because it’s the type of thing we should tell Hollywood we want more of. Support good films from industry newcomers!)
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
I don't understand.
I saw Hugo again last week, as well as the Descendants. I have previously said that I would write about both of them. But I've sat down and tried on several occasions, and I just can't seem to write anything close to a useful review on either of them.
I can at least understand my trepidation regarding The Descendants; to me it was kind of a listless film, only gaining any sort of shape or interest in the last twenty or thirty minutes. I can't say that it's a bad movie, but it just seemed...there, without anything for the viewer to latch onto. I try not to dismiss slow movies as boring, but...I found most of it boring, and the worst part is I can't express why. The characters just don't break out of the familiar character types (Dad who doesn't know what to do with daughters, The Troublesome Daughter, The Innocent Daughter, Hippie Family Friends, Derpy Boyfriend, Girl that is every fear about tweens today personified) enough to be interesting, although the actors try hard. Combined with some truly uninspired plot points (the whole issue of the Hawaiian land doesn't mesh well with the rest of the narrative, and why does Sid hang around for the entire movie again?), I honestly can't figure out how to talk about this film in a constructive manner. The bottom line is that I found a cat playing with string more engaging than most of the film, I don't understand all the praise for this film, and my apathy regarding it makes me feel unqualified to write something useful on it.
And then we have Hugo. I saw it in 2D back in December. I definitely enjoyed it more than The Descendants, and it's a film I would recommend to literally anyone, but both times I saw it, I had a baffling absence of feeling about it. Sometimes I think I'm disappointed with it, but there's no line of thinking to back that theory up. Sometimes I think I just wasn't in a great mood when I watched it, but I saw it twice, what more should I need? I don't think I've ever had so much trouble saying something useful on a film, and I'm at an utter loss.
I can't even say this is a symptom of some sort of general film apathy or even a general mood problem; I certainly had something to say about Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which I also saw recently. As I said, Hugo is definitely worth watching, if for nothing else, for the parallel between the celebration of the birth of the moving image and Scorsese's exploration into 3D cinematography. But something is missing, either in the film or in me, and I can't figure out what.
So what is an amateur reviewer to do?
I can at least understand my trepidation regarding The Descendants; to me it was kind of a listless film, only gaining any sort of shape or interest in the last twenty or thirty minutes. I can't say that it's a bad movie, but it just seemed...there, without anything for the viewer to latch onto. I try not to dismiss slow movies as boring, but...I found most of it boring, and the worst part is I can't express why. The characters just don't break out of the familiar character types (Dad who doesn't know what to do with daughters, The Troublesome Daughter, The Innocent Daughter, Hippie Family Friends, Derpy Boyfriend, Girl that is every fear about tweens today personified) enough to be interesting, although the actors try hard. Combined with some truly uninspired plot points (the whole issue of the Hawaiian land doesn't mesh well with the rest of the narrative, and why does Sid hang around for the entire movie again?), I honestly can't figure out how to talk about this film in a constructive manner. The bottom line is that I found a cat playing with string more engaging than most of the film, I don't understand all the praise for this film, and my apathy regarding it makes me feel unqualified to write something useful on it.
And then we have Hugo. I saw it in 2D back in December. I definitely enjoyed it more than The Descendants, and it's a film I would recommend to literally anyone, but both times I saw it, I had a baffling absence of feeling about it. Sometimes I think I'm disappointed with it, but there's no line of thinking to back that theory up. Sometimes I think I just wasn't in a great mood when I watched it, but I saw it twice, what more should I need? I don't think I've ever had so much trouble saying something useful on a film, and I'm at an utter loss.
I can't even say this is a symptom of some sort of general film apathy or even a general mood problem; I certainly had something to say about Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, which I also saw recently. As I said, Hugo is definitely worth watching, if for nothing else, for the parallel between the celebration of the birth of the moving image and Scorsese's exploration into 3D cinematography. But something is missing, either in the film or in me, and I can't figure out what.
So what is an amateur reviewer to do?
Friday, January 13, 2012
Why I like Amadeus despite deriding the costume drama genre
Alright, I am going to say this right now: I have a horrible bias against costume dramas. To me they’re all about repressed rich people opressed by societal norms and there’s always someone who must marry someone else even though they are in love with another person oh no! And there are affairs and shame and it’s all supposed to be super intruiging and maybe a war or some other historical event comes around and messes everything up or there’s some sultry affair and it’s all very dignified with British accents. I’m sure this is completely unfair and somewhat inaccurate, but I just see costume dramas as everyone falling in love with Poofy Dress Eras and assuming that’s a signifier of a Prestigous Movie with Pretigious British Actors, and I’m sick of it.
And yet, despite all this bitching, one of my favorite movies is an Oscar-winning costume drama. How could the person who just wrote that bullshit above have fallen in love with a two and a half hour Poofy Dress Film in middle school? There are two reasons I can think of.
The first being that Amadeus doesn’t have the classic elements of repression or restrictive society or even forbidden love at all. Sure, Salieri has his vow of chastity and unrequited love for his muse, but the entire point of the film is that society seems to bend over backwards for Mozart. The only obstacles caused by society are the ones that Salieri takes advantage of to bring down Mozart. Mozart supposedly has sultry affairs, but it’s not dwelled upon or treated as particularly scandalous for anyone but Salieri. And what’s presented as Serious Business isn’t as much political standing as the understandable and real feelings of Salieri.
And that brings me to the second reason: the actual themes of the film apply to any time and anyone. Amadeus is about two things: inferiority and jealousy. Who hasn’t met someone like Tom Hulce’s Mozart; someone who effortlessly beats you at whatever you do best, who seems to get all the luck and attention? There’s always that one person in school who aces the test everyone else bombed, the one person at work who doesn’t screw up a single thing, and the worst part is when they’re just so fucking nice about it. Salieri sees Mozart, this goofy looking lowbrow kid, and can’t believe that his best efforts pale in comparison to Mozart’s work. Why is he better than me, me who has made music my life’s work, he asks, and that’s something that people will always be asking. Why are things harder for me than for that guy? Why can’t I do as well as everyone else? When will I get my turn in the spotlight? No matter what the society, time, country, economic or social status, everyone has or will have those feelings at some point in their lives. I had felt it before when I was a fourth or fifth grader watching Amadeus in parts in music class, and it’s still relevant to me as a twenty-something.
Of course, there’s more to the film than just the themes. F. Murray Abraham delivers an amazing performance that lets us see ourselves in Salieri, and Tom Hulce is unforgettable as the perky, crude, obnoxious, and brilliant Mozart. The art direction and costumes are amazing; Mozart’s choice of wigs is a small touch with a surprising amount of meaning, and the cinematography is beautiful. Milos Forman borrowed a lens from Stanley Kubrick so he could shoot almost every scene without added light, which I can tell you is extremely impressive. The way the music is incorporated into the film is spot-on as well, and it all weaves together to create a truly great film.
I can’t imagine how any of the few people who read this wouldn’t have seen this film, but if you haven’t, it’s an absolute must. This clip is pretty late in the film, but it’s my favorite scene, and if this doesn’t impress you, I don’t know what will.
(I will note one thing: unfortunately, the version of Amadeus that’s easiest to get is the Director’s Cut, which is not actually Forman’s cut, but just the film with all the deleted scenes shoved back in. It’s still a great film, but it pads the runtime to about three hours, and the film is perfect without it. The theatrical version is only found on an old release that uses a double sided DVD, which is annoying.)
And yet, despite all this bitching, one of my favorite movies is an Oscar-winning costume drama. How could the person who just wrote that bullshit above have fallen in love with a two and a half hour Poofy Dress Film in middle school? There are two reasons I can think of.
The first being that Amadeus doesn’t have the classic elements of repression or restrictive society or even forbidden love at all. Sure, Salieri has his vow of chastity and unrequited love for his muse, but the entire point of the film is that society seems to bend over backwards for Mozart. The only obstacles caused by society are the ones that Salieri takes advantage of to bring down Mozart. Mozart supposedly has sultry affairs, but it’s not dwelled upon or treated as particularly scandalous for anyone but Salieri. And what’s presented as Serious Business isn’t as much political standing as the understandable and real feelings of Salieri.
And that brings me to the second reason: the actual themes of the film apply to any time and anyone. Amadeus is about two things: inferiority and jealousy. Who hasn’t met someone like Tom Hulce’s Mozart; someone who effortlessly beats you at whatever you do best, who seems to get all the luck and attention? There’s always that one person in school who aces the test everyone else bombed, the one person at work who doesn’t screw up a single thing, and the worst part is when they’re just so fucking nice about it. Salieri sees Mozart, this goofy looking lowbrow kid, and can’t believe that his best efforts pale in comparison to Mozart’s work. Why is he better than me, me who has made music my life’s work, he asks, and that’s something that people will always be asking. Why are things harder for me than for that guy? Why can’t I do as well as everyone else? When will I get my turn in the spotlight? No matter what the society, time, country, economic or social status, everyone has or will have those feelings at some point in their lives. I had felt it before when I was a fourth or fifth grader watching Amadeus in parts in music class, and it’s still relevant to me as a twenty-something.
Of course, there’s more to the film than just the themes. F. Murray Abraham delivers an amazing performance that lets us see ourselves in Salieri, and Tom Hulce is unforgettable as the perky, crude, obnoxious, and brilliant Mozart. The art direction and costumes are amazing; Mozart’s choice of wigs is a small touch with a surprising amount of meaning, and the cinematography is beautiful. Milos Forman borrowed a lens from Stanley Kubrick so he could shoot almost every scene without added light, which I can tell you is extremely impressive. The way the music is incorporated into the film is spot-on as well, and it all weaves together to create a truly great film.
I can’t imagine how any of the few people who read this wouldn’t have seen this film, but if you haven’t, it’s an absolute must. This clip is pretty late in the film, but it’s my favorite scene, and if this doesn’t impress you, I don’t know what will.
(I will note one thing: unfortunately, the version of Amadeus that’s easiest to get is the Director’s Cut, which is not actually Forman’s cut, but just the film with all the deleted scenes shoved back in. It’s still a great film, but it pads the runtime to about three hours, and the film is perfect without it. The theatrical version is only found on an old release that uses a double sided DVD, which is annoying.)
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The Help
I will admit, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to enjoy this film. So far I haven’t been able to articulate the genre of film that I tend to gravitate towards, but I can definitely say that this wasn’t it. But my mom was interested in it, so I had to give it a fair chance. After all, I always advocate going out of your comfort zone. Unfortunately for me, this time my gut instinct was correct. The Help has some serious problems.
This movie is supposed to be about the racism that the black maids experience in pre-civil rights Louisiana, with an interesting twist about these maids’ relationships with the children of their employers. The plot kicks off with Skeeter, played by Emma Stone, coming back from college and finding out that her family maid Constantine, who practically raised her, has mysteriously disappeared. An aspiring journalist, she is stirred to interview black maids about raising white children, starting with one of her friend’s maids, Aibileen (played by Viola Davis). Soon Aibileen’s friend Minny (played by Octavia Spencer), who has been fired for daring to use her family’s bathroom instead of the one for the help outside, becomes a part of Skeeter’s project as well.
But as much as the film tries to convince us that Aibileen is the main character by having her as the focus of the first and last scenes, it’s really about Skeeter, which is terribly disappointing. The beginnings of the civil rights movement are only shown through brief glimpses of TV news or in one scene where Aibileen is forced to get off a bus when it heads through a crime scene where a civil rights activist was shot, whereas we have to slog through Skeeter’s romantic life. This film falls right into the “White People To The Rescue” trope that really needs to die already.
The performances in this film have been lauded even by their detractors, and I agree to a certain extent. Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer, and Emma Stone are all wonderful, although Octavia Spencer does at some point have to play the Sassy “Mmm hmmm” Black Lady role. But who really stood out to me was Jessica Chastain, who plays my favorite character in the film, Celia. She takes on Minny after she is fired because she can’t cook and is afraid her husband might leave her otherwise, and she’s shunned by the rest of the community for being tacky and rumors that she stole somebody’s boyfriend. Her growing relationship with Minny feels genuine, sweet, and funny, but unfortunately is just a side story.
And that’s the big problem with this film. There’s too much Wise Black Servant and White Person With Radical Views For The Time and especially the Terrible White Villian, played by Bryce Dallas Howard, who seems like she should really be the leader of the popular girls in a high school comedy. Skeeter’s role as White Person With Radical Views is also frustrating, especially since I have heard she wasn’t so liberal in the book. But the stock stereotypes don’t stop; what convinces Aibileen to tell her story to Skeeter? A sermon about Courage and Standing Up For What Is Right, of course! The ending is especially annoying. After Skeeter gains success and escapes racist Louisiana for New York, the film tries to make us cry at the end by having a scene where three characters are crying, one of them an abandoned toddler. But it’s supposed to also be a happy cry, because Aibileen quits, escaping the most terrible white people, and walks off into the sunset knowing she is free. Roll credits.
And that’s the last we see of Aibileen, as if that’s enough closure for her. She lost her job and is (figuratively) walking off to who knows where, but her voiceover is liberated, so she’ll be okay, right? I was told the book gives her a much more definitive happy ending, but seriously?
The sad thing is, The Help is clearly trying to say something meaningful about having to raise kids that aren’t your own and women’s roles in society in general, but it really gets bogged down in sentimental and overdone bullshit.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Hmmm
I should have three new film posts coming up soon:
I guess part of the reason I haven’t written anything is because I’ve felt a little blah about movies in the last week or so. I was definitely not in a good mood going into Hugo, and I might not have the money to see it again to get a new view. I had also sort of forgotten about A Dangerous Method a little, so I’m wondering ifmy mood is affecting my enjoyment of movies.
Then again, I’m totally stoked for Rampart, so maybe I’m just not doing well with brighter movies. Who knows, I just hope I get my shit together soon.
- The Help: I got this for my mom for Christmas and we watched it together. I really should write something in full, but to give a preview: I hated it. It’s baa manipulative tear jerker about a white woman who’s Not Racist Like THe Rest Of Them and how she helps some poor black people. I mean, the film tryies to say it’s about Abeline by bookending it with her voice over, but when she walks into the sunset, we don’t have any idea what is actually going to happen to her! But Skeeter got a happy ending, so it’s ok, right?
- Hugo: I think I might see this again in 3D since I had to see it in 2D nd I just feel like it might be more impressive. I have to admit I took a while to get absorbed in the film; it starts off pretty average children’s movie. I didn’t love it the way I expected to, but it’s really sweet and I loved Chloe Mortez as Isabelle.
- A Dangerous Method: I don’t really know what I was expecting from this film, but it was really disappointing. I might simply have been mistaken; I had assumed that the film was mostly going to be about Freud, Jung, and their theories, but really it was about sex, repression, and Keira Knightley. But even ignoring my disappointment in the plot, I felt this movie was really disjointed. There wasn’t enough connection between scenes or events, so everything got pretty flat.
I guess part of the reason I haven’t written anything is because I’ve felt a little blah about movies in the last week or so. I was definitely not in a good mood going into Hugo, and I might not have the money to see it again to get a new view. I had also sort of forgotten about A Dangerous Method a little, so I’m wondering ifmy mood is affecting my enjoyment of movies.
Then again, I’m totally stoked for Rampart, so maybe I’m just not doing well with brighter movies. Who knows, I just hope I get my shit together soon.
Friday, December 30, 2011
How I decide what films to see (even if I can’t tell you what they’re about)
[originally written 11/20/11]
Okay, so I get interested in a bunch of movies. And, because friends ask about things that friends are interested in, I usually get asked what I’m thinking of seeing. And once I say something, the next question is inevitably, “What’s it about?”
And then it gets awkward. Because, a good amount of the time, the best I have is some half-remembered basic summary I read on wikipedia. So then, why would I be interested in something I can’t even describe?
#1: The director
There are some directors that interest me enough that I’m interested in almost anything they’re working on. Some other directors I’ve heard good things about and what little I know of the plot sounds like something they’d do something interesting with. For example, a while ago I was on a huge Aronofsky kick. I had realized that I wanted to start expanding my horizons on what films I watched, so I had seen Pi and Requiem for a Dream (in addition to The Wrestler). Usually when I’m into a director, I look to see what they’re up to next. At the time, the only information about Black Swan was that a) it was called Black Swan, b) it starred Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis, and c) it was about competing ballet dancers or something?
Knowing what I knew about Aronofsky, this sounded really strange, but that was enough to get me interested in it.
#2: The actors
Like directors, I also follow actors. Sometimes an actor makes an impression on me in a movie. When I saw An Education, I was really impressed by Carey Mulligan, and so I decided to try and follow her next projects. The same thing happened with Michael Fassbender; he really struck me as Archie Hicox in Inglourious Basterds, and same thing, decided I wanted to see what else he was up to. Coincidentally, both of them are starring in Shame, and I’m excited to see them work together.
#3: Intriguing trailer
Everyone says trailers always spoil, which is usually true, but sometimes I’ll see a trailer that really makes me interested in a film. Sometimes it gets me interested in something I previously wouldn’t be interested in, or like The Skin I Live In, it just sorta comes out of nowhere and bowls me over.
I mean, look at this trailer. Look at it. I saw it in front of Drive, and had absolutely no idea what the fuck I was looking at. Except that it was fascinating. It’s a great example of a trailer that gets you interested and yet doesn’t tell you much of anything about it.
#4: …film people said it was great
Okay, okay, okay, I know everyone says that awards shows in general are shams and, as many say, they don’t reward as “best” whatever as much as they do “most” whatever. A lot of people distrust critics too (though I should write at some point why I think that’s dumb), and people can think that film festivals are pretentious and more hollywood back-patting bullshit (also not quite true!). But, but, sometimes, it’s really worth following these, and I’ll see something just because there’s buzz around it, even before a trailer comes out.
A good example is The Artist. While I did see the trailer recently and now really want to see it, I first heard about it when it won Best Actor at Cannes, and I vaguely knew that it was a black and white movie about the old movie era. I didn’t know how interested I was in it, but I kept it in my mind until NYFF, when I heard it was a silent movie. I couldn’t see it there (film festival prices are insane), but it’s coming out now and I’m definitely going to see it.
Honestly, I think people should try some of this more often. There are a lot of complaints that Hollywood is out of ideas and only does remakes and blah blah blah, but the thing is that nobody bothers to look around for something new. It really seems like people separate movies into the stuff that gets advertised, Oscar bullshit, and pretentious stuff, and that’s completely myopic. Prestige movies have a reputation of being overfluffed Oscar bait, and while sometimes that’s true, other times they’re genuinely good in their own right and are worth checking out.
But the movies that get shafted the most are the smaller movies. They get branded as either pretentious, too artsy, too precious, or just plain boring. But there are genres just like in mainstream Hollywood; if you’ve got an indie theater around, it’s worth just looking around and seeing something. A lot of the not entirely huge stars will show up in them, and these films are a whole new world of film.
Also, then you can be the one who has actually seen a bunch of the movies that show up at awards shows (not going to lie, I do like being the person who knows that kinda stuff and has INFORMED OPINIONS). It’s a wee bit smug, but who doesn’t like being smug every once in a while?
…ok maybe just me.
Okay, so I get interested in a bunch of movies. And, because friends ask about things that friends are interested in, I usually get asked what I’m thinking of seeing. And once I say something, the next question is inevitably, “What’s it about?”
And then it gets awkward. Because, a good amount of the time, the best I have is some half-remembered basic summary I read on wikipedia. So then, why would I be interested in something I can’t even describe?
#1: The director
There are some directors that interest me enough that I’m interested in almost anything they’re working on. Some other directors I’ve heard good things about and what little I know of the plot sounds like something they’d do something interesting with. For example, a while ago I was on a huge Aronofsky kick. I had realized that I wanted to start expanding my horizons on what films I watched, so I had seen Pi and Requiem for a Dream (in addition to The Wrestler). Usually when I’m into a director, I look to see what they’re up to next. At the time, the only information about Black Swan was that a) it was called Black Swan, b) it starred Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis, and c) it was about competing ballet dancers or something?
Knowing what I knew about Aronofsky, this sounded really strange, but that was enough to get me interested in it.
#2: The actors
Like directors, I also follow actors. Sometimes an actor makes an impression on me in a movie. When I saw An Education, I was really impressed by Carey Mulligan, and so I decided to try and follow her next projects. The same thing happened with Michael Fassbender; he really struck me as Archie Hicox in Inglourious Basterds, and same thing, decided I wanted to see what else he was up to. Coincidentally, both of them are starring in Shame, and I’m excited to see them work together.
#3: Intriguing trailer
Everyone says trailers always spoil, which is usually true, but sometimes I’ll see a trailer that really makes me interested in a film. Sometimes it gets me interested in something I previously wouldn’t be interested in, or like The Skin I Live In, it just sorta comes out of nowhere and bowls me over.
I mean, look at this trailer. Look at it. I saw it in front of Drive, and had absolutely no idea what the fuck I was looking at. Except that it was fascinating. It’s a great example of a trailer that gets you interested and yet doesn’t tell you much of anything about it.
#4: …film people said it was great
Okay, okay, okay, I know everyone says that awards shows in general are shams and, as many say, they don’t reward as “best” whatever as much as they do “most” whatever. A lot of people distrust critics too (though I should write at some point why I think that’s dumb), and people can think that film festivals are pretentious and more hollywood back-patting bullshit (also not quite true!). But, but, sometimes, it’s really worth following these, and I’ll see something just because there’s buzz around it, even before a trailer comes out.
A good example is The Artist. While I did see the trailer recently and now really want to see it, I first heard about it when it won Best Actor at Cannes, and I vaguely knew that it was a black and white movie about the old movie era. I didn’t know how interested I was in it, but I kept it in my mind until NYFF, when I heard it was a silent movie. I couldn’t see it there (film festival prices are insane), but it’s coming out now and I’m definitely going to see it.
Honestly, I think people should try some of this more often. There are a lot of complaints that Hollywood is out of ideas and only does remakes and blah blah blah, but the thing is that nobody bothers to look around for something new. It really seems like people separate movies into the stuff that gets advertised, Oscar bullshit, and pretentious stuff, and that’s completely myopic. Prestige movies have a reputation of being overfluffed Oscar bait, and while sometimes that’s true, other times they’re genuinely good in their own right and are worth checking out.
But the movies that get shafted the most are the smaller movies. They get branded as either pretentious, too artsy, too precious, or just plain boring. But there are genres just like in mainstream Hollywood; if you’ve got an indie theater around, it’s worth just looking around and seeing something. A lot of the not entirely huge stars will show up in them, and these films are a whole new world of film.
Also, then you can be the one who has actually seen a bunch of the movies that show up at awards shows (not going to lie, I do like being the person who knows that kinda stuff and has INFORMED OPINIONS). It’s a wee bit smug, but who doesn’t like being smug every once in a while?
…ok maybe just me.
Below The Line, or Goddammit the technical awards are fucking important!
[originally posted 12/15/11]
I know I shouldn’t, but I do take awards shows pretty seriously. I’ve been trying the last few years to keep up with movies well enough to have a halfway-formed opinion (last year I saw 6/10 of the Best Picture nominated films), and I do get a bit frustrated when most people only care about the big, flashy categories: Best Picture, Best Actor / Supporting Actor, and Best Actress / Supporting Actress. Maybe Best Director too, and if they’re particularly interested, Best Screenplay / Adapted Screenplay. And while that sounds like a lot, even people who really like movies tend to see Cinematography, Visual Effects, Editing, and both Sound categories as the ‘boring’ stuff that you can chat during, as if it isn’t important.
And guess what? It really, really is.
Let’s start with my favorite category: Cinematography. To boil it down to its essence, cinematography is the lighting and camera choices for each shot and scene. I say choices for two reasons: one because I find it hard to explain cinematography and so I cribbed a little bit from the wikipedia article, and, more importantly, because there are many ways to shoot the same shot, and cinematography is about making the right choice for the scene and film at hand. Think of cinematography as a dynamic version of photography; for any one photo, the photographer has to make decisions about the intensity of light on the subject, the direction of the light, the framing of the shot, the focal length of the lens, the shutter speed, and the depth of field. Even in outdoor conditions with no other light sources but the sun, the angle and intensity of light still must be kept in mind. (There is also the issue of film stock and white balancing, but that would get me into a film/digital discussion and this is not the place for that.) Most people who have ever taken a picture understand this: if you take a picture of someone with the sun behind them, you’re just going to get a silhouette of the person because they are backlit.
The same concepts apply to cinematography, with an added element: time. Unlike the still camera, the lens length, depth of field, and lens length can be changed within one shot. The camera position can also be changed during a shot, giving a new option of camera motion. Every one of these choices can change the mood and impact of the shot.
So why do I get pissy when people don’t care about the cinematography category? Simply put, all of those choices put together are what make the movie a movie. The moving image is the essence of what you’re watching; without it, you’re not watching anything, just listening or reading. Cinematography, even over acting, sound, and story, is the most important element of film.
“So wait wait wait,” you say. “If cinematography is the choices that cause everything you see on screen, what the fuck is Visual Effects?” Good question! Visual Effects sounds like it’s really cinematography, but the difference is that visual effects are what you see that isn’t produced by lighting or camera choices. We’re talking about things like CG, although I would say there are other things that would count. To explain this difference, there was a kerfluffle when Avatar was nominated for Best Cinematography and Best Visual Effects at the Oscars. Since Avatar was completely computer rendered, many people argued that it had no actual cinematography. There are camera movements and lighting decisions in Avatar, of course, but since there was no physical camera or physical light, why should it count as cinematography? Avatar won both categories, so I guess for the Academy, it counts enough.
(In my opinion it shouldn’t count, but I am far from the authority on anything ever.)
But visual effects don’t necessarily have to be flashy. Take for example, the Black Swan visual effects reel. The most noticable effects are of course, Natalie Portman’s transformation into the Black Swan, but look at the more subtle changes. The floor of the stage was stylized, crew were erased from mirror shots, and the backdrop was extended on the stage. In my opinion, Black Swan should have been included in the Best Visual Effects category, simply because the cleanup and animation were both well done and effective.
Next topic: Editing. I think most people who watch movies have the basic understanding of editing; it’s putting the shots together to create scenes, and linking the scenes together to tell the story. But like visual effects doesn’t have to be flashy to be effective, editing is also very important in very subtle ways. In his book, Making Movies, Sidney Lumet mentions that he knew a director that didn’t want his editors winning Best Editing awards because then the editing was distracting from the story. I don’t think that’s true at all, but it is indicative of awards ceremonies’ tendencies to take “Best” whatever as meaning “Most” whatever. (I am far from the first person to make that distinction; in fact, I may have read it from the same book!)
Remember how I said there are choices to be made about each shot and each scene? Editing is the choices made about how to juxtapose each shot to make a scene, and juxtapose each scene to make the movie. The juxtaposition of scenes is laid out by the screenplay, of course, but scenes can also be moved or deleted to tell the story more effectively. Editing decides whether a shot or scene is necessary or effective for the movie. The director and cinematographer may shoot a scene in more than one way, or include closeups along with wider shots, and the editor must choose what combination of shots is most effective. The combination of shots, speed of cuts, and number of cuts in a scene can change the tempo and feel of a scene, and the combination, speed and number of scenes will set the tempo and mood for the entire movie.
And now we get to Sound. Now, I can understand why most people don’t care about the sound awards. Sound is maligned everywhere. I’m sure any sound person has seen ads on cragislist and Mandy for smaller films where it’s obvious that location sound is an afterthought. “Need sound guy tomorrow. Must have his own equipment, no pay but copy and credit.” People just kind of assume that you just need a camera with a microphone, or maybe a boom mic if you’re fancy, and everything’s gonna come out alright. Sound is pretty much an afterthought even for some filmmakers who are starting out.
Sound is incredibly important. I can’t even tell you.
Well, actually I can, because I’m going to, but you know what I mean. Location sound, the sound that is picked up when shooting, is the first thing you think of. The dialogue is the most obvious; of course you have to hear what the actors are saying (unless you’re not supposed to, of course). But you can’t just record the actors. Absolute silence in a film is very different from real life silence. The best way I can describe it is that absolute silence, or dead air, is startling; it sounds like something’s wrong somewhere. To prevent this, the location sound guy will always take room tone, which is a recording of the regular silence at the location. Room tone makes silent movies seem more real and picks up background noises in the area. There are different types of microphones that are best at picking up specific types of sounds, but to be honest, I’m a bit out of my element when it comes to sound, and this post is long enough already.
So what is Sound editing? Well, the location sound and dialogue tracks don’t pick up everything, at least not realistically. Some sounds also can’t be created on set, like sounds caused by things in visual effects. Most sounds you notice in films are actually added in post-production. Footsteps, gunshots, rustling of clothes, and other sounds are added in larger productions by foley artists. They use objects to recreate sounds that sync up with the actions in film, or to add flavor to the background noise. In addition to foley, sounds are also used from sound libraries. Sound editing is the process of putting all these sounds together to sync with the film images.
Sound mixing is the last step in sound production. All of the sounds that are in the film must be balanced so that they do not drown each other out. The room tone and foley noises must be present, but not so much that they distract from the dialogue. Without sound mixing, movies would be unwatchable because all the sounds would be fighting each other for dominance. You don’t want one piece of dialogue to be too loud, or the sound level to change drastically between scenes. Even if two characters can’t hear each other over a loud noise in the film, we as the viewer need to hear both of them.
Now, will all of these categories personally interest you? Maybe not. . But they’re important, and all of these departments and crew members deserve recognition and respect just as much as the writer and director and actors. Movies, especially features on the award show scale, are a collaboration, and I think that’s important to keep in mind.
I know I shouldn’t, but I do take awards shows pretty seriously. I’ve been trying the last few years to keep up with movies well enough to have a halfway-formed opinion (last year I saw 6/10 of the Best Picture nominated films), and I do get a bit frustrated when most people only care about the big, flashy categories: Best Picture, Best Actor / Supporting Actor, and Best Actress / Supporting Actress. Maybe Best Director too, and if they’re particularly interested, Best Screenplay / Adapted Screenplay. And while that sounds like a lot, even people who really like movies tend to see Cinematography, Visual Effects, Editing, and both Sound categories as the ‘boring’ stuff that you can chat during, as if it isn’t important.
And guess what? It really, really is.
Let’s start with my favorite category: Cinematography. To boil it down to its essence, cinematography is the lighting and camera choices for each shot and scene. I say choices for two reasons: one because I find it hard to explain cinematography and so I cribbed a little bit from the wikipedia article, and, more importantly, because there are many ways to shoot the same shot, and cinematography is about making the right choice for the scene and film at hand. Think of cinematography as a dynamic version of photography; for any one photo, the photographer has to make decisions about the intensity of light on the subject, the direction of the light, the framing of the shot, the focal length of the lens, the shutter speed, and the depth of field. Even in outdoor conditions with no other light sources but the sun, the angle and intensity of light still must be kept in mind. (There is also the issue of film stock and white balancing, but that would get me into a film/digital discussion and this is not the place for that.) Most people who have ever taken a picture understand this: if you take a picture of someone with the sun behind them, you’re just going to get a silhouette of the person because they are backlit.
The same concepts apply to cinematography, with an added element: time. Unlike the still camera, the lens length, depth of field, and lens length can be changed within one shot. The camera position can also be changed during a shot, giving a new option of camera motion. Every one of these choices can change the mood and impact of the shot.
So why do I get pissy when people don’t care about the cinematography category? Simply put, all of those choices put together are what make the movie a movie. The moving image is the essence of what you’re watching; without it, you’re not watching anything, just listening or reading. Cinematography, even over acting, sound, and story, is the most important element of film.
“So wait wait wait,” you say. “If cinematography is the choices that cause everything you see on screen, what the fuck is Visual Effects?” Good question! Visual Effects sounds like it’s really cinematography, but the difference is that visual effects are what you see that isn’t produced by lighting or camera choices. We’re talking about things like CG, although I would say there are other things that would count. To explain this difference, there was a kerfluffle when Avatar was nominated for Best Cinematography and Best Visual Effects at the Oscars. Since Avatar was completely computer rendered, many people argued that it had no actual cinematography. There are camera movements and lighting decisions in Avatar, of course, but since there was no physical camera or physical light, why should it count as cinematography? Avatar won both categories, so I guess for the Academy, it counts enough.
(In my opinion it shouldn’t count, but I am far from the authority on anything ever.)
But visual effects don’t necessarily have to be flashy. Take for example, the Black Swan visual effects reel. The most noticable effects are of course, Natalie Portman’s transformation into the Black Swan, but look at the more subtle changes. The floor of the stage was stylized, crew were erased from mirror shots, and the backdrop was extended on the stage. In my opinion, Black Swan should have been included in the Best Visual Effects category, simply because the cleanup and animation were both well done and effective.
Next topic: Editing. I think most people who watch movies have the basic understanding of editing; it’s putting the shots together to create scenes, and linking the scenes together to tell the story. But like visual effects doesn’t have to be flashy to be effective, editing is also very important in very subtle ways. In his book, Making Movies, Sidney Lumet mentions that he knew a director that didn’t want his editors winning Best Editing awards because then the editing was distracting from the story. I don’t think that’s true at all, but it is indicative of awards ceremonies’ tendencies to take “Best” whatever as meaning “Most” whatever. (I am far from the first person to make that distinction; in fact, I may have read it from the same book!)
Remember how I said there are choices to be made about each shot and each scene? Editing is the choices made about how to juxtapose each shot to make a scene, and juxtapose each scene to make the movie. The juxtaposition of scenes is laid out by the screenplay, of course, but scenes can also be moved or deleted to tell the story more effectively. Editing decides whether a shot or scene is necessary or effective for the movie. The director and cinematographer may shoot a scene in more than one way, or include closeups along with wider shots, and the editor must choose what combination of shots is most effective. The combination of shots, speed of cuts, and number of cuts in a scene can change the tempo and feel of a scene, and the combination, speed and number of scenes will set the tempo and mood for the entire movie.
And now we get to Sound. Now, I can understand why most people don’t care about the sound awards. Sound is maligned everywhere. I’m sure any sound person has seen ads on cragislist and Mandy for smaller films where it’s obvious that location sound is an afterthought. “Need sound guy tomorrow. Must have his own equipment, no pay but copy and credit.” People just kind of assume that you just need a camera with a microphone, or maybe a boom mic if you’re fancy, and everything’s gonna come out alright. Sound is pretty much an afterthought even for some filmmakers who are starting out.
Sound is incredibly important. I can’t even tell you.
Well, actually I can, because I’m going to, but you know what I mean. Location sound, the sound that is picked up when shooting, is the first thing you think of. The dialogue is the most obvious; of course you have to hear what the actors are saying (unless you’re not supposed to, of course). But you can’t just record the actors. Absolute silence in a film is very different from real life silence. The best way I can describe it is that absolute silence, or dead air, is startling; it sounds like something’s wrong somewhere. To prevent this, the location sound guy will always take room tone, which is a recording of the regular silence at the location. Room tone makes silent movies seem more real and picks up background noises in the area. There are different types of microphones that are best at picking up specific types of sounds, but to be honest, I’m a bit out of my element when it comes to sound, and this post is long enough already.
So what is Sound editing? Well, the location sound and dialogue tracks don’t pick up everything, at least not realistically. Some sounds also can’t be created on set, like sounds caused by things in visual effects. Most sounds you notice in films are actually added in post-production. Footsteps, gunshots, rustling of clothes, and other sounds are added in larger productions by foley artists. They use objects to recreate sounds that sync up with the actions in film, or to add flavor to the background noise. In addition to foley, sounds are also used from sound libraries. Sound editing is the process of putting all these sounds together to sync with the film images.
Sound mixing is the last step in sound production. All of the sounds that are in the film must be balanced so that they do not drown each other out. The room tone and foley noises must be present, but not so much that they distract from the dialogue. Without sound mixing, movies would be unwatchable because all the sounds would be fighting each other for dominance. You don’t want one piece of dialogue to be too loud, or the sound level to change drastically between scenes. Even if two characters can’t hear each other over a loud noise in the film, we as the viewer need to hear both of them.
Now, will all of these categories personally interest you? Maybe not. . But they’re important, and all of these departments and crew members deserve recognition and respect just as much as the writer and director and actors. Movies, especially features on the award show scale, are a collaboration, and I think that’s important to keep in mind.
Movie piracy: let's be reasonable here
[originally posted 12/9/11]
So my friend ombrophilia just made an interesting post about music piracy, so I wanted to put in my two cents about film piracy. I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’ve never pirated a film, or tell you that you’re a bad, mean person for doing so. But let’s not pretend that piracy isn’t affecting people. And not just bigwig producers and popular studios; don’t kid yourself by thinking that you’re sticking it to Big Hollywood by pirating movies. It has more of an effect than you think.
Remember those anti-piracy PSAs that used to be shown before trailers with below the line crewmembers telling you that you’re cutting into their pay by pirating movies? Remember how we all wrote it off as guilt trip shit? Well, it totally was, but they’re also not lying. The thing is, not paying for a movie you’d otherwise see in theaters doesn’t just mean that you’re not giving revenue for that movie. How do you think studios pay for films? It’s by profits from other films. And less profits means a possibility for less productions, and less productions means less work not just for producers and big name stars and big directors, but for everyone. And it takes a ton of people to make a movie. If you’ve sat and watched the credits of…well, anything forever, you’ll see how many people work on films. There’s enough competition for those below the line jobs anyway without the job market shrinking.
Some people justify these things by saying that Hollywood is producing a ton of bullshit anyway, so why should they support it? And yeah, I have no intention of telling you that The Smurfs and Jack and Jill are pinnacles of American comedy and you should throw money at them. (Please don’t oh my god.) And tons of people complain about remakes, and that Hollywood only makes them to make money.
Well, duh. The reason studios do these things is because people go to see them. Now I could tell you that remakes are far from something new, but that’s not the point. The point is that the film industry makes things that they think or hope people will see. If you really wanna see something new, go give it your money in theaters. Instead of taking your money away from bad stuff, take a chance on something new. I of course understand that you don’t want to possibly spend the hilariously expensive amount of money for a movie ticket to something you might not even like, but in my opinion, if you’re going to see something, that thing doesn’t have an obligation to come to you. Otherwise, as I said before, you’re not just stiffing the studio directly on that movie, but indirectly for everyone else involved. There’s more to movies than just the lead actors, director, and producers.
Which comes to my last point: supporting indie/smaller films. You know how I basically said up there that I wasn’t going to judge you about pirating?
Okay, okay, I may have lied a tiny bit. If you pirate smaller films, I am a little pissed at you. Now, I understand that if you live in the middle of nowhere, you probably don’t have an indie theater nearby. But really, is it that horrible to just wait for that DVD? (hint: my answer is ‘no.’) But if you live near an indie theater, or for fuck’s sake, in or near LA or New York, you’ve got to be kidding me. With indie movies (or movies directed / written by up and comings like Source Code), there’s a ton more on the line. Studios need to see profits to be convinced that 1) making more off-beat movies like this is worth their time and money, and 2) there’s enough of a market to open the film wider, where more people can see it. If you’re pirating these types of movies, you’re helping to fuck over the talent and kind of movie that you wish big studios were making. Directly.
Waaah, you might spend money on a movie you don’t like. It happens. But unless it was three hours of the director pooping or something, you didn’t waste two hours of your life or whatever excuse people might use to get pissy at the chance of paying for a film. You supported an smaller film, which might help other small films to get made. If you saw it at a smaller theater, congratulations, you helped that theater out a bit too! (Theaters needing more money is one aspect of why movie prices are so ridiculous nowadays.)
And if you’re bitching over anything less than $10, stop. Seriously. People in major cities (especially New York and LA) are paying $12-$13.50. I really hate the “consider yourself lucky” shpiel, but…come on.
And if you’re too poor to see movies at the moment, you know what? Tough. I think we all think we’re entitled to entertainment ever since piracy got super-big, and let’s be honest, we’re not. As I said, I’m not trying to tell you you’re a terrible person for pirating anything or trying to guilt trip you into stopping (I’ve made myself stop pirating movies but I have done it quite a bit in the past!), but I think we all need to stop kidding ourselves about what’s going on here. We think that we deserve entertainment for free, when…that’s just not true.
Also if you have a chance to see an smaller / quirkier movie and decide to pirate it instead, I am a little pissy at you.
So my friend ombrophilia just made an interesting post about music piracy, so I wanted to put in my two cents about film piracy. I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’ve never pirated a film, or tell you that you’re a bad, mean person for doing so. But let’s not pretend that piracy isn’t affecting people. And not just bigwig producers and popular studios; don’t kid yourself by thinking that you’re sticking it to Big Hollywood by pirating movies. It has more of an effect than you think.
Remember those anti-piracy PSAs that used to be shown before trailers with below the line crewmembers telling you that you’re cutting into their pay by pirating movies? Remember how we all wrote it off as guilt trip shit? Well, it totally was, but they’re also not lying. The thing is, not paying for a movie you’d otherwise see in theaters doesn’t just mean that you’re not giving revenue for that movie. How do you think studios pay for films? It’s by profits from other films. And less profits means a possibility for less productions, and less productions means less work not just for producers and big name stars and big directors, but for everyone. And it takes a ton of people to make a movie. If you’ve sat and watched the credits of…well, anything forever, you’ll see how many people work on films. There’s enough competition for those below the line jobs anyway without the job market shrinking.
Some people justify these things by saying that Hollywood is producing a ton of bullshit anyway, so why should they support it? And yeah, I have no intention of telling you that The Smurfs and Jack and Jill are pinnacles of American comedy and you should throw money at them. (Please don’t oh my god.) And tons of people complain about remakes, and that Hollywood only makes them to make money.
Well, duh. The reason studios do these things is because people go to see them. Now I could tell you that remakes are far from something new, but that’s not the point. The point is that the film industry makes things that they think or hope people will see. If you really wanna see something new, go give it your money in theaters. Instead of taking your money away from bad stuff, take a chance on something new. I of course understand that you don’t want to possibly spend the hilariously expensive amount of money for a movie ticket to something you might not even like, but in my opinion, if you’re going to see something, that thing doesn’t have an obligation to come to you. Otherwise, as I said before, you’re not just stiffing the studio directly on that movie, but indirectly for everyone else involved. There’s more to movies than just the lead actors, director, and producers.
Which comes to my last point: supporting indie/smaller films. You know how I basically said up there that I wasn’t going to judge you about pirating?
Okay, okay, I may have lied a tiny bit. If you pirate smaller films, I am a little pissed at you. Now, I understand that if you live in the middle of nowhere, you probably don’t have an indie theater nearby. But really, is it that horrible to just wait for that DVD? (hint: my answer is ‘no.’) But if you live near an indie theater, or for fuck’s sake, in or near LA or New York, you’ve got to be kidding me. With indie movies (or movies directed / written by up and comings like Source Code), there’s a ton more on the line. Studios need to see profits to be convinced that 1) making more off-beat movies like this is worth their time and money, and 2) there’s enough of a market to open the film wider, where more people can see it. If you’re pirating these types of movies, you’re helping to fuck over the talent and kind of movie that you wish big studios were making. Directly.
Waaah, you might spend money on a movie you don’t like. It happens. But unless it was three hours of the director pooping or something, you didn’t waste two hours of your life or whatever excuse people might use to get pissy at the chance of paying for a film. You supported an smaller film, which might help other small films to get made. If you saw it at a smaller theater, congratulations, you helped that theater out a bit too! (Theaters needing more money is one aspect of why movie prices are so ridiculous nowadays.)
And if you’re bitching over anything less than $10, stop. Seriously. People in major cities (especially New York and LA) are paying $12-$13.50. I really hate the “consider yourself lucky” shpiel, but…come on.
And if you’re too poor to see movies at the moment, you know what? Tough. I think we all think we’re entitled to entertainment ever since piracy got super-big, and let’s be honest, we’re not. As I said, I’m not trying to tell you you’re a terrible person for pirating anything or trying to guilt trip you into stopping (I’ve made myself stop pirating movies but I have done it quite a bit in the past!), but I think we all need to stop kidding ourselves about what’s going on here. We think that we deserve entertainment for free, when…that’s just not true.
Also if you have a chance to see an smaller / quirkier movie and decide to pirate it instead, I am a little pissy at you.
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