Best of Film: 2012 Part 1

1.) Silver Linings Playbook

Adapted and directed by David O. Russel, Starring Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence, Robert DeNiro, and Chris Tucker.

I found Silver Linings Playbook to be a profoundly personal and touching film. Marketing for the film failed in that it did not know quite how to label it; is it a Rom-Com, or a film about mental health, dancing, or football? Really it follows Pat, played by Bradley Cooper, as he attempts to adjst to life after a mental breakdown following finding his wife having an affair with another man. Pat is under the process of being diagnost with Bi-Polar disorder and has violent panic attacks. He is obsessed with getting his wife back, which leads him to reading all of her classes syllabus in an effort to understand her. (This causes one of the funniest moments in the film in which he throws A Farewell to Arms out of the window and rants at his unforgiving parents about Hemingway at three in the morning.) His family is worried about him, but are rather awkward about it, as is he; we get a real sense of who this family is. Enter Tiffany, played by Jennifer Lawrence, who is also dealing with her own loss and issues. The two of them are a couple of stray dogs in life, and bond whilst learning a dance routine together.

While dealing with all the serious subject matter, however, director David O. Russell is able to entertain and make us laugh. Russell is good at that, look at the Gulf War in Three Kings as another example. The characters are real, flawed, but lovable in their uniqueness.

Silver Linings, however, felt imbalanced at times, the first half concentrating on more of the mental health elements, then it devolves into more Rom-Com fair at the end. I also felt like the Chris Tucker character, and especially the Police/Parole officer, didn’t have a big payoff in the film. Those are my only major criticisms of the film, and it is definitely unique and touching so easily forgivable.

Watching Pat and Tiffany's interactions are the most enjoyable parts of the film. They have chemistry, but they are awkward; or we could say authentic. They are awkward with everyone they are around, but in the beginning they are extremely awkward with each other. They have ideological debates, albeit subtly, that stem from their characters. Pat former relationship had a lot of repressed sexuality, whereas Tiffany deals with her husband’s death by sleeping around. Pat and Tiffany would seemingly not be an ideal match, but they are. They need each other, because they are not only so different from each other, but they are different from other people as well. It is also how they overcome their differences, shown largely in the movie through them learning a “dance” routine, they grow together, learn to communicate with each other, and respect/love one another. Pat sticks up for Tiffany by driving away people Tiffany has slept with, so she can heal. Tiffany gives Pat structure he needs and also lies to him about contacting his estranged wife, thereby giving incentive so he can willingly be apart of the dance routine and thus the structure.

Pat’s father, played wonderfully by Robert DeNiro has OCD and is obsessed with football. His mother is an enabler, helping to get Pat out of the hospital he was in, even though the Doctor’s feeling he wasn’t yet ready. Pat and his father don’t know how to interact with each other, but they try, mostly in the form of football and lucky charms. Some of the most heartbreaking scenes are with Pat’s family. They genuinely care for Pat, and Pat loves them back, but they are on different frequencies and don’t fully understand nor communicate with each other.

Literally, I cried more throughout this film than I did Les Miserables. Not that the two compare, but for me, it has more to do with striking close to home. Pat has a certain kind of helplessness, in inability to communicate properly, or get too hyped up emotionally which estranges his self from those around him. But the movie is happy, there is hope for Pat. He is a good person, and he tries. He makes a playbook to follow, and tries to find the silver linings in his life.

2.) The Dark Knight Rises

Written by Christopher and Jonathon Nolan. Directed by Christopher Nolan. Starring Christian Bale, Michael Cane, Gary Oldman, Morgan Freeman, Joseph Gordon Levitt, Tom Hardy, Anne Hathaway, and Marion Cottilard.

It really is a story about moving on. Bruce Wayne is stuck on his dead ex-girlfriend living holed up in his manor busy not being Batman, but wishing he was. Bruce Wayne is built on the idea of not getting over his parents death. This leads into very Film Noirish ideas of the past, that the best times are behind us and not being able to enjoy the moment or move on. This, of course, a very bleak world view. I found it very disturbing of our times/culture that so many people wanted Bruce Wayne to die in this movie before it’s release, and so happy that they were let down. While I belong to the Christian denomination, it seems terribly wrong that we demand the death of our heroes.

With the entrance of Bane Bruce has an excuse to be Batman once more, but he quickly finds he is not match for Bane. Alfred pleads with him that he cannot stand against Bane, that he is not strong enough, stating he buried Bruce’s parents and he won’t stand idly by and watch Bruce be buried as well. Alfred sets in motion the direction that Bruce will ultimately have to undergo- that he needs to let go of the past, and Batman, and find a reason to live.

The ending has surrounded some controversy for some, but I believe it is simple and straightforward. After Batman has regained his strength and defeated Bane he is left with the ticking bomb that will decimate Gotham, so he ties it to his helicopter like “Bat.” We watch Bruce fly off and with him in it as the bomb goes off in the ocean. Earlier we are told that the Bat has a guidance system that can fly itself but it is faulty and cannot be used. Then a mechanic tells us that it was indeed fixed and operable, before Alfred sees Bruce in a Café in France. The major problem of the film was Nolan’s over usage of “Montage”- by that I mean the cutting of footage in away that does not resemble continuous time. If Bruce had indeed jumped out and swam back at the last second the radiation fallout would’ve killed him. Obviously he jumped out beforehand, but the cutting of footage would lead us to believe it would be later. For suspense film often changes space and time to have an emotional build up.

The movie would have been worthless had Bruce of died. This is, in my opinion, the most hope filled movie in Nolan’s canon. Most of his movies are about the obsessive male chasing after something to such an extreme that it destroys him to some level. Inception is the next closest movie, but it is so ambiguous in the end that it is subjective as to whether Inception a hopeful movie. Bruce is told earlier in the film that not fearing death is one thing, but he has to find a reason to live to defeat Bane. While saving Gotham is certainly a noble and Batman reason to live on, I believe that Bruce wants to make his parents happy, and thus Alfred. Another way he moves on is forgetting about his dead ex, who was a horrible match for him. Selina Kyle is a better match, and seeing Bruce with her definitely, I believe is another growth for Bruce.

There is a lot more I would like to say about Rises, but will constrain myself for now to why I have placed it on my top ten list. Hopefully I can write a greater review, and refute the claims of others of "flaws" of the film, and why it should not be perceived as a work of art.

3.) Lincoln

Adapted by Tony Kushner. Directed by Steven Spielberg. Starring Daniel Day Lewis, Tommy Lee Jones, Sally Field, Joseph Gordon Levitt, and James Spader.

Rather than tell a full story of the life of Abraham Lincoln, Steven Spielberg instead chose to tell the story of passing of the 13^th amendment. The movie is much more enthralling than it sounds, if you give it a chance. Those of us that have studied history know that the 13^th amendment was, indeed, passed. Yet the political intrigue that we are given in the movie is so wonderfully told that he becomes suspenseful. In the climax of the film, as Congress is voting to pass the amendment, I became worried if enough members would support the amendment; and then I thought to myself why am I worried, it obviously passes. Yet, I was afraid, it was enough for me to doubt my memory of the studies of the amendment; perhaps it did not pass then but at another time.

Daniel Day Lewis was Lincoln, it is hard to think of him as Lewis in the film, but only as his character. His posture, composure, and those wonderful stories, he tells at the most appropriate-sometimes odd- moments, are all so wonderful. He brings a wonderful intensity at the right moments when he is trying to convince members of his cabinet to side with him on the issue of the amendment. Then there is the supporting cast. I have to question the worth of having Joseph Gordon Levitt, while I appreciate him as an actor, did not bring much to the film. Tommy Lee Jones and James Spader, however, made their characters as well. This maybe perhaps one of Jones’s greatest roles in his career-which already has a fine resume.  His role as Thaddeus Stevens, the radical republican, shows how this country works through compromise. He wants absolute rights for African-Americans, which is noble and true, but Lincoln has to reason with him that it should just be freedom for the time, and that the amendment cannot be as fleshed out as much as Stevens would like.

Otherwise Congress would have voted it down, and there would have been no 13^th amendment. Watching the growth of the two characters for me was the highlight of the film, as they try to reason with each other. It is a good lesson for anybody with more radical tendencies to learn to be more mature and understand the virtue of compromise, for without it, the United States would never have been made, (although that is a history lesson for another time.)

Spader plays a lobbyist trying to buy and bribe votes from Congressmen, which brings humor to the film. A great scene is when in the middle of a talk with one Congressman at a table the representative pulls a gun out and means to aim it at Spader who throws his portfolio at him to get away causing the representative to misfire, getting away and then coming back for his papers. He has seriousness for his work, but a detachment all at the same time, like a slacker who cares only when things get truly grim and his meal ticket maybe threatened.

Spielberg has shown time and time again that he is fully capable of more mature fare, and hopefully Lincoln will allow him to continue to make more films like this, instead of rehashing past films and formulas. He has been criticized for The Color Purple, Schindler’s List, and Amistad. While they have been held in a certain revere in most circles, they still lack the critical and popular attention that they should have received because Spielberg receives unwarranted bias for being a blockbuster and popular filmmaker.

4.) Moonrise Kindgom

My greatest regret for Moonrise Kingdom was that I never saw it twice in the theatre. Wes Anderson's tale of childhood love is wonderful and magical. Two children, Sam and Suzy, who decide to runaway together, both from broken homes, camp out and "love" each other the way that they understand it. Of course they do not have realistic or mature understanding about it, and it is for them mostly about mimicking what they know from other adults and entertainment. They are able to send an entire community on the lookout for them. Anderson's characters have a lot of heart to them. 

Most critics have felt Bruce Willis steals the show as the communities Police Officer, but I felt that it was Edward Norton who steals it, as the Scout Master in charge of young Sam as he escapes. He has a real, well, boy scout persona that is genuine and funny. 

The underground world of this Scouting troop on the cluster of islands in New England also helped to make this hilarious world. Normally I dislike the cliche of children acting as grown adults, but watching the children here act out melodramtically was definitely the best parts of the film. Jason Schwartzman's role as a black market dealer at the massive Scout rally made me like him finally. That such a shady adult would be dealing with children is so hilarious because of its somewhat disturbing nature.

5.) Argo

- I used to hate Ben Affleck because I was jealous of what I perceived of being undue attention from Hollywood and all the pretty ladies I knew. Now I hate him because of his due attention. For there being little action, or gunfire, Affleck is able to create a wonderful historically set thriller. Like Lincoln, you may know the outcome of the end of the film but Affleck's direction will live you worried of the ending.

6.) Skyfall 

- Never have I wanted to see a Bond film because I thought it was pretty until Skyfall. It is gorgeous. There is something terribly lonely about it too. You never think Auteur/artistic cinema and Bond in the same sentence, but with Sam Mendes direction now we do.

Now while I have seen several other standout films: Prometheus, Cabin in the Woods, Avengers, the Master, the Life of Pi; I feel the need to end my list here. Perhaps I will add the Master or Pi as I continue to reflect on them, and I may add more as I continue to watch  more films, but for the time being I feel a need to end the list here with six. Hopefully Zero Dark Thirty will prove worthy enough to be added into the slots.

Introducing the Extra Terrestrial

E.T. the Extraterrestrial is a movie about a boy, Elliott, who meets and befriends an alien who has been abandoned here on earth. In the beginning sequence, in which we are introduced to E.T. before he meets Elliott, we witness E.T.’s childlike fascination with our world. He wanders away from his spaceship as the aliens survey a forest. As E.T. explores our planet, he has a keen sense of childlike wonder and curiosity. The other aliens, his family, are forced to leave him there with the sudden introduction of human scientists into the area. The scientists, like most of the adults in the film, are faceless. They represent adult maturity, rationality, science, and the loss of magic and wonder in our lives. The themes of the movie are set up in this beginning sequence, namely the duel of childlike innocence and belief in magic versus adult rationality and belief in science.

The storytelling structure of the beginning is in the visuals, showing us how E.T. became separated, and is being hunted by adult humans. We see a rabbit coming out to watch E.T. The rabbit’s presence makes us feel calm. Allen Daviau, the film’s cinematographer, gives a beautiful and magical look to this sequence. The story of E.T. is an incredible story that is hard to sell to an audience. John Simon wrote in his article “E.T. Etc.” in the National Review, “Allen Daviau’s cinematography looks opulent without turning too gorgeous or cute, and most of the special effects work in an understated manner.” By not having overly dramatic cinematography we are more accepting of the film world, and of the creature E.T. Joseph McBride quotes Daviau in “Stephen Spielberg: A Biography, “‘I remember saying from the very beginning when I read the script ‘It’s got to be so real. The whole world around has got to be absolutely realistic, so that the magic that happens isn’t hokey, so that the whole thing isn’t intentionally magical. The magic comes out of this incredible situation.” (331) Before we even are allowed to see E.T. fully-lit Spielberg and Daviau are able to sell us E.T. as a credible creature. 

The cinematography isn’t the only element building us up to E.T. John W. Wright in his article “Levinsian Ethics of Alterity: The Face of the Other in Spielberg’s Cinematic Language” writes, “Here, Spielberg only postpones the face-to-face encounter with the alien other for the briefest of times. He uses extreme close-ups to show hands, feet, and oblique parts of the alien E.T. as he wanders in the forest in search of plants to sample. When the ship leaves, Spielberg uses fast-paced editing to "humanize" the still faceless E.T. as he tries to make it back to the ship. The alien E.T. may be "unknowable," but Spielberg allows us this time to presage our engagement with its face through cinematic actions that seem familiar: a sense of helplessness, the ability to lose track of time and place, and the immediacy of the alien's loneliness at being isolated from that which it knows and is familiar with.” Spielberg builds us up to the reveal of E.T. later on by establishing him as an individual first. Despite E.T.’s foreign nature we are given the impression that he experiences wonder, fear, and loneliness, like a human being.

The beginning sequence is presented without dialogue, like a silent film. However, there are sound effects of E.T. walking, nature, and humans, as well as a lush soundtrack provided by John Williams. We hear E.T. walking through the forest, breathing heavily, making an “ooh” sound in wonder, and his shriek as the adults pull up. E.T. cannot speak at this point, but can communicate vocally like a baby, allowing us to know what he is experiencing without reading his face. The forest comes alive through the use of sound design here as well, presumably provided by the supervising sound editor Charles L. Campbell. We can hear birds, wind, and other subtle elements of a nighttime forest. As the scientists pull up, we are first introduced to the character simply known as “Keys,” played by Peter Coyote. We hear the jingling of his keys by his side, which throughout the film becomes the indicator of his presence, much as the theme music in Jaws alerts us of the presence of the shark. Sound is used to create the wonder of youth as well as the threat of adult maturity.

Another element of sound is John William’s colorful score which heightens the emotional elements of the movie for the viewer. Jack Sullivan quotes Williams in his article Conversations with John Williams, "For better or worse, the audience for film music, even in an unconscious way, is multinational and enormous. If there is such a thing as global music, it's probably coming from film, where it's less attached to one particular vernacular. As a unified art form, a successful film, if it has a score that people will embrace, really can, in the atmosphere we live in today, reach across those boundaries.” There is no dialogue spoken, and Williams’s score carries us through the scene with its own musical dialect. At first, as E.T. walks through the forest looking up at the redwood trees, the music gives us the sense of wonder that E.T. is having upon experiencing the gigantic redwoods. With the arrival of the scientists, the music becomes more suspenseful, making us believe that if the adults actually apprehend E.T., he would be in danger. The music imposes this dichotomy upon the viewer—of childlike magic and adult rationality.

The idea of a duel between the innocent nature of childhood and adult maturity, of magic versus science, is set up subtly here, at the beginning of the film. It is not presented as a grand gesture, nor is it stated explicitly. Instead Spielberg and his collaborators use film art to guide us into the world of E.T. allowing us to understand the creature and his character, making him believable. At the same time, they help us to understand that maturity and adulthood are around the corner. Later in the film, we understand that the adults are not villains, but people who no longer look at the world the way Elliott and E.T. do.

Bibliography:

McBride, Joseph, Steven Spielberg A Biography, Second ed., Jackson, Mississippi: University of Mississippi, 2010.

Scheurer, Timothy E., "John Williams and film music since 1971." Popular Music & Society 21, no. 1: 59. Music Index, EBSCOhost (accessed October 8, 2012), 1997

Simon, John, "E.T. ETC.," National Review 34, no. 14: 908-910, Film & Television Literature Index, EBSCOhost (accessed October 1, 2012) 1982.

Wright, John W., "Levinasian Ethics of Alterity: The Face of the Other in Spielberg’s Cinematic Language," Steven Spielberg and Philosophy: We're Gonna Need a Bigger Book. Ed. Dean A. Kowalski. Lexington, KY: University of Kentucky, 2008.

Hello (The Long) Goodbye

Robert Altman’s the Long Goodbye dances the line of paying homage to noir and parodying noir. Modern audiences would consider it more homage, whereas a film like The Big Lebowski would be considered more of a parody. The Long Goodbye follows Phillip Marlowe as he tries to comprehend the apparent suicide of his friend, Terry Lennox, following the murder of Lennox’s wife. Many of the elements of a classic noir are there; the police are no help to him, the mob comes in for a debt from Lennox, a crooked doctor comes in, and there is a form of a femme fatale; but the film never fully fits into the noir box. In The Long Goodbye Marlowe is described by Altman as “Rip Van Marlowe”; meaning that it is as if Marlowe just woke up from the classic noir period and goes about his business. We watch in the film a person who is a moral relic of a bygone era, and Altman plays with this idea throughout the film. The Long Goodbye becomes its own sub-genre, neither homage nor parody to the films of a bygone era.

Here you can get a hint of the bleached out look of the film.

   Though the film technique is not like that of classic noir - such as complex mise-en-sene, dark shadows, low key lighting, low and high shots; the film still retained some elements of classic noir. Naremore highlights stylistic differences when he says, “In place of carefully framed, angular compositions, it uses a roving, almost arbitrary series of panning and zooming shots that continually flatten perspective.”1 Noir is often described as being confusing, slow, and dreamlike, and in the Long Goodbye I felt these elements were retained. The dreamlike quality comes from obviously its slower pace, but also the fact that the film itself is bleached out. Altman said “I wanted to give the film the soft, pastel look you see on old postcards from the 1940s.”2 This makes the film feel like a forgotten memory one recalls in their dream. At times the film felt as if it were going nowhere, with several plot lines that I thought would never be tied up. I have faith in the plot structure of classic noir that their plots will be tied up, regardless of how convoluted they are. I suppose due to the chaotic nature of Altman films, I gave in to the complexity and felt that the subplots only loosely tied together through theme, and seldom wrap up together in the end. My initial confusion was probably also tied into the slow nature of the movie, wherein I felt frustrated with Marlowe’s slow attempt to solve his friend’s murder, and the characters that I initially felt were unrelated to the central problem, and that their problems took him further from the truth. However, Altman’s approach toward a noir detective story made me forget that everything ties together, and most loose ends are solved.

Here is Elliot Gould as Phillip Marlowe.

 Elliot Gould plays Phillip Marlowe in The Long Goodbye. Marlowe’s friend, Terry Lennox, tells Marlowe that he is a born loser. Perhaps that’s why not every loose end is tied up at the end. Marlowe points out the fact that his cat runs away, and he never did find it at the end. Altman was trying to make a point here about the morals and times of the past through the use of Marlowe. Elizabeth Ward wrote, “The film noir protagonist had steadily lost any ability to effect change in a modern world, and this increasing powerlessness is correlative of diminishing social morality.”3 Marlowe does not stop any corruption or evil from occurring. When the gangster Marty Augustine smashes his girlfriend.s face Marlowe just watches, and when the novelist Roger Wade walks into the ocean and drowns, Marlowe cannot find Wade in the water to save him. Humphrey Bogart played Marlowe with swagger and a cool edge; it could be said of Gould’s Marlowe that he is more passive. Gould passively watches and asks questions, but the only action that he takes is in the end is when he finds his friend Terry and shoots him for his betrayal.

Marlowe being a wise guy with the police by putting finger ink all over his face.

    Gould’s portrayal in many ways is in contrast with Raymond Chandler’s original version of Marlowe. Naremore points out that Marlowe is “a mumbling private eye who incessantly talks to himself.”4 Gould’s Marlowe does talk a lot, constantly throughout the film making smart-aleck remarks. Not every line is gold, but I enjoy a character that says what he wants to despite his surroundings, as shown in scenes in the police interrogation room and when Marlowe is held at gunpoint by the mobsters. Despite the fact that he is under pressure or in physical danger he cracks wise, perhaps as a way to deal with pressure. At times Marlowe is painful to watch because I had no idea why he didn’t speak up directly to those around him. Bogart’s Marlowe gives the impression that he is almost always has some upper hand or that he is confident enough to get the job done. That doesn’t come across as well to me with Gould’s portrayal. Although Gould does not seem to have Bogart’s confidence, his is a more accurate portrayal of a person solving a mystery. He is swimming up the creek without a paddle, with several other components in play that either purposefully or mistakenly lead him away from figuring everything out.

Is Eileen Wade a Femme Fatale? 

   The themes of corruption and misogyny that often shown in classic noir exist in The Long Goodbye, although shown differently than in classic noir. Naremore states that “the coke-bottle attack and the running gag about the stoned, bare-breasted girls who live in an apartment across from Marlowe-seem designed to exploit a new style of misogyny and violence under the cover of a smugly superior attitude toward private-eye stories.”5 The police are portrayed differently in the film too, where many film noirs portray police as being corrupt and greedy. Ward, however, states that “the ‘modern’ corruption of the police in The Long Goodbye is not caused by individual ambition and greed but by overload and burn-out.”6 We can look at these statements and make a number of assumptions: that our viewpoints on corruption and misogyny have changed including their starting factors, or that the methods in which that they are displayed have changed.

    Altman’s the Long Goodbye contains many of the elements of noir, but like many neo-noirs never fully embraces all the elements. Times had changed, and the filmmakers and their techniques had changed with them. Altman wanted the film to look like a faded postcard, a forgotten memory, as opposed to noir’s highly stylized and graphic shots. While the world became more effective in fighting crime and became more feminist, corruption and misogyny still lingered. Maybe due to the serious nature of the content in The Long Goodbye, it can’t be taken as parody, but because of Marlowe’s attitude throughout the film it can’t be taken seriously either. Personally, I wish that more films would dance the line of humor and seriousness. However, as we see with this film, audiences often have trouble distinguishing between the two. So The Long Goodbye becomes neither homage nor parody, but stands on its own as a different kind of noir.

1.) Naremore, James. More than Night: Film Noir in Its Contexts, Updated and Expanded Edition (Kindle Locations 2654-2655). Kindle Edition.
2.) Altman, Robert, and David Thompson. Altman on Altman. London: Faber and Faber, 2006.77
3.) Ward, Elizabeth. "The Post-Noir P.I.: The Long Goodbye and Hickey and Boggs" Film Noir Reader. Ed. Silver, Alain and Ursini, James. 8th ed. New York: Limelight Editions, 2006. 237
4.) Naremore, James. More than Night: Film Noir in Its Contexts, Updated and Expanded Edition (Kindle Location 2654). Kindle Edition.
5.) Naremore, James. More than Night: Film Noir in Its Contexts, Updated and Expanded Edition (Kindle Locations 2665-2666). Kindle Edition.
6.) Ward, Elizabeth. "The Post-Noir P.I.: The Long Goodbye and Hickey and Boggs" Film Noir Reader. Ed. Silver, Alain and Ursini, James. 8th ed. New York: Limelight Editions, 2006. 240

Human Values Through Film Design: Chaplin’s Modern Times and The Great Dictator

Charlie Chaplin learned comedy while working in vaudeville, and he went on to make genre comedies like many of his contemporaries. Compared to his peers Chaplin is sentimental in his story telling; he is more expressive, and his tramp character is lovable. As well as being a top-notch comedian and actor, Chaplin also directed the majority of his films. He was intelligent, and he was conscious of human suffering in the world around him. The times were hard for most people, the Great Depression provided troubles for people. He was gifted with an intuitive sense of cinema that let him make personal films, rich in humanity, when most movies were manufactured by a studio system that felt movies were a product and not art. Modern Times and The Great Dictator are two socially conscious films of his that have continued to find appreciative audiences.

Chaplin plays two roles in The Great Dictator, and each character has their own stories. The Dictator, Hynkel plans and plots to take over the neighboring country, and then the world; but he has to face several political and personnel problems that pop up. Meanwhile the Jewish Barber has to fight to survive; because Hynkel puts pressure on the Jews of Tomania, and is harassed by the Stormtroopers. The Barber is able to find love with Hannah, played by Paulette Godard. The end of the film has mistaken identities, caused by the fact that Hynkel and the Barber look so much alike; this was inspired by the fact that Hitler copied Chaplin’s mustache in real life. The ending of The Great Dictator has the Barber addressing a crowd of the dictator’s soldiers, and he gives them, and the whole world, a plea for peace. In this plea Chaplin stops acting as the Barber and speaks as himself; he stops speaking to the Tomanian troops and speaks to the citizens of the world. It is a beautiful and moving piece because Chaplin speaks his mind, and addresses his audience directly which few filmmakers do.

In The Great Dictator, while the Jewish Barber is in the hospital, after the first World War, time passes and the world changes drastically. To let the audience know that the world has changed since the end of the war, Chaplin uses a montage sequence. The screen fades from the Barber and his friend being told the war has been lost to whirling newspaper presses. The presses symbolize the gears and wheels of the world spinning, passing, and changing. Chaplin fades through different printing presses, and we see different shots of machines until a newspaper headline comes at us; “Armistice!” The camera fades into a crowd of happy people in the streets cheering the end of the war. Then the Barber is shown in the hospital, with his head bandaged. We are shown more headlines, many of them contemporary with Chaplin’s timeline, giving the audience a sense of time, “Lindberg flies Atlantic.” This is an attempt to speed the audience up to the present. The headlines show terrible times in the fictitious country of Tomania, which is a metaphor for Germany, and this helps us understand the last headline, “Hynkel Party Takes Power!” It parallels Hitler’s rise to power. The montage then shows us one last shot of the barber walking around so we know that he is in good health and alive, before giving us the film’s first shot of Hynkel. The montage sequence is important to the narrative because it gives the audience a greater sense of the timeline. For Chaplin’s original audience, it provided a brief history of the parallel world that he has created, wherein Hynkel stands in for Hitler. For modern audiences the montage gives them a greater understanding of the timeline, reminding and informing them of past events, letting the audience see the deplorable conditions of Tomania and how a person like Hynkel could rise to power. In less than a minute, several years worth of knowledge is given about the Barber and the conditions of Tomania.

The most beautiful and haunting sequences of The Great Dictator is when Hynkel dances with the globe, tossing it up into the air and gracefully catching it. Chaplin uses many long takes, and avoids cuts unless they are needed for an emotional affect, such as a close up of Hannah during Chaplin’s closing speech. In this sequence Hynkel tosses the globe. Rather than have the camera follow the globe up, the camera cuts to the globe and then follows it down. When you become used to this, the camera follows the globe up and then cuts to Chaplin lying down on the table. While it is not an extreme use of editing as many modern editors would use, it is subtly jarring. Hynkel is a pleasant person, but under the personality he is a violent brute. The quick subtle edits highlights this in Hynkel’s dance; he is dangerous. Finally, at the end of the sequence, he grabs the globe and it bursts, just as the Earth would have if Hynkel or Hitler would have conquered the Earth. In the most moving scene in The Great Dictator Chaplin uses little cuts for a greater emotional appeal. When he gives his speech and plea for humanity, which goes about five minutes, the camera cuts only once. Chaplin just stares straight into the camera for each whole take, breaking the “fourth wall” by looking at the audience. This contrasts with Hynkel’s dance and shows that Chaplin uses editing to highlight emotional aspects of the film.

The Great Dictator has a threatening yet humorous scene wherein Hynkel addresses members of the Jewish Ghetto through a loudspeaker. Chaplin speaks so it sounds like German, but it is just gibberish, and no translation is given. It is not what Hynkel is saying, but how he says it, that is threatening. We are set up in a previous scene where he states that he is going to threaten the Jews. While on the loudspeaker we see the Barber and Hannah reacting. They are on a crowded street when Hynkel’s voice booms in, and in seconds they are the last ones standing; everyone else has disappeared. The walk down the street at an increasing speed, but when Hynkel’s voice becomes more threatening they hide. There is no visible danger here, only the perception of Hynkel’s threat to them. The combination of the set-up, the sound production, and the acting make this sequence both frightening and hilarious.

Modern Times has plenty of plot and action by Chaplin’s design, compared to The Great Dictator the action veers away from the story. It is Godard’s urchin propels the Tramp into the next adventure. They dream of a future, and attempt to help each other. Chaplin tries to support her; declaring he will get her a home even if he has to work for it. It breaks off into events, going away from the story and into the plot; surviving the conditions of a city in 1930. We watch Chaplin working, imprisoned, and Godard as she works in a restaurant. Humor often works when the story and the plot diverge from the story, and perhaps this is why it was such a successful film. The Great Dictator on the other has less non-diegetic material, comparatively; and the action keeps more to the story. Plot developments in The Great Dictator build up to the speech in the end of the film; while not every piece of the plot fits the story it is tighter than Modern Times.

Chaplin had a strong ideology that was very pro-humanity, and he portrayed his views in his films. He gave the films implicit meanings that he consciously thought about for long periods. Modern Times shows how Chaplin felt about the industrial era, and how technological efficiency has dehumanized mankind. When the Tramp is working in the factory tightening bolts, he gets so caught up in the work that he does not notice that he is pulled into the machinery as he tightens the bolts of the machine. His body is contorted through painful-looking gears; he has become a piece of the machine itself.  Chaplin’s plea for humanity to the soldiers, 

“Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes — men who despise you — enslave you — who regiment your lives — tell you what to do — what to think or what to feel! Who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men — machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men!...Then, in the name of democracy, let us use that power! Let us all unite! Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give youth the future and old age a security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie! They do not fulfill their promise; they never will. Dictators free themselves, but they enslave the people!”

Chaplin rose to fame during the Great Depression, and was conscious of the ruin around him. As Hitler rose to power many people in the United States supported him and his quest against the Jews; which appalled Chaplin. He knew that he could use his film as an overt and subtle weapon against social injustices he perceived.

Chaplin played with the frame rate in many of his films. By using the frame rate of 18 fps, or another speed, he could give the story a greater pacing he felt that he wanted. It allows for Chaplin to move in a manner he could not on his own; the Tramp could then move faster, be more graceful, or be clumsy. The effect works; it is subtle enough for the audience not to notice it. Paulette Godard’s character in Modern Times is introduced by showing her cutting a bushel of bananas and throwing them to children. She is a desperate and hungry street urchin. The frame rate is sped up; so that she is furiously cutting the bananas, which gives her more spirit and voraciousness as she goes at it. If watched her at a normal fps rate it would not create the same effect; the change is needed to make her seem more feisty. Later the Tramp goes swimming and somersaults into less than a foot of water in the lake. The reaction of Chaplin to this event is intensified by the action being sped up. It is only a short gag, but the audience spends more time watching him prepare for the dive than in the actual water. He stretches, and warms up, then dives. Another person would have somersaulted more awkwardly, and it would have only appeared painful, but Chaplin’s choreography combined with the adjusted fps rate makes it humorous to the audience instead of painful. 

Modern Times, while a “silent film,” still made use of recorded sound; such as music, sound effects, and features Charlie Chaplin singing. The sound is postsynchronous, recorded after filming. It is the amalgamation of silent film techniques with prerecorded diegetic sound that makes the film interesting and unique. Whenever people talk to each other we cannot hear them, instead we read their lips or read the title cards. However, whenever a person talks through a machine, whether it is the Henry Ford-like boss, or a news radio announcer, we get to hear a voice. The only time that we get to hear a voice is through a machine. This adds to theme of the movie—the dehumanization of people because of technology and the “advances” of modern times: people have lost their voices, and they have become slaves to the machines they work for. When Chaplin’s boss comes down to see him and talk to him directly he no longer has a voice as he did when he was on the monitor. Everything he says goes unheard, and only the most important dialogue ends up on a title card. The restaurant scene of the film has Charlie Chaplin singing. However, the character loses the lyrics of the song and has to make up the lyrics. Instead of singing in English he sings in gibberish, imitating French. We can even hear the audience members cheering and laughing at his humorous gestures. Combined with Chaplin’s gestures and dancing, it is a humorous scene. Although the song is the first time many people have heard Chaplin’s voice, the scene is still more about the comical movements and gestures that he performs. This could have been Chaplin’s way of trying to defy modern conventions, which made many of his peers go over to talkies. Even in a historical moment, as Chaplin’s voice being heard, it is still about the pantomime and the mimegesis.

Chaplin would often use a deep focus in his films. He came from a theatre background, and would stage action so that he could use a longer shot, rather than a traditional establishing shot followed by close ups. Characters often speak to each other on screen together instead of two close ups intercut. In the shots of Godard’s Gamin with Chaplin’s Tramp, they talk facing each other, with their sides to the audience. Then in the factory scenes he uses a deep focus, giving us a sense of grandeur and depth in the factory. We can watch the great big gears in the background turning, and men wheeling machinery around with as much focus as Chaplin and other workers in the foreground. He was aware of his body as a comedic tool, and wanted to put it entirely in the shot. 

Chaplin uses suspense as a comedic tool in both films by dangling his characters over danger while neither character is aware of it. In Modern Times Chaplin’s Tramp is rollerskating around a multi-level department store to impress his girlfriend; and while doing so comes close to death by approaching an open ledge. It would be an impressive feat of bravery, but the tramp is blindfolded, and he inches closer to the ledge with each pass. The audience fears for the Tramp, but he is unaware that he is in danger of getting hurt while showing off. The comedy kicks in when his girlfriend, Hannah, warns him and he takes the blind fold off. Now he is no longer graceful and flails about to get away from the ledge, getting closer to it. His surprise combined with the relief he never got hurt is what makes the scene funny. This replays in The Great Dictator when the Barber and Hannah escape the stormtroopers; with all of the friends’ belongings, including a hat box placed over the Barber’s eyes. The two run up to the roof, and the Barber runs out onto a beam unaware that a misstep could mean his death. His friend calls out to him to be careful. The Barber comically drops several items he is holding to his friends dismay, thinking he is placing them on the ground. Again, while we fear for his safety, the true comedy comes in when he takes the hat box off his head and looks down, he finally drops all the items and flails about until he can reach the safety of the roof. The dramatic build-up of Chaplin’s falling climaxes with his becoming aware of his danger, which leads to his safety and the audience’s release of emotion with laughter.

Modern Times and The Great Dictator are a culmination of everything that Chaplin had learned working on film years prior. They also show his ability to adapt and grow; he redeveloped himself to use sound design, and even use speech as a comical and dramatic device. Most impressive of Chaplin is how he used his films not just for entertainment or for self gain, but he used them to promote social values he developed. He was worried about industry destroying men’s souls, and a dictator destroying the world. There hasn’t been anyone quite like Chaplin since.

Sequoia Sempervirens of "Vertigo"

SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't watched Vertigo already, do not read on.

In Vertigo, Scottie and Madeleine escape up to Muir Woods to look at the redwood trees together. The sequence is powerful not just because of the beauty of the redwoods, but because of the overpowering nature of them. Scottie and Madeleine, who is really Judy, are reduced as figures into small mammals in comparison to the sequoias. Madeleine projects her fear of death and the unknown. Scottie tries to comfort her and get her to open up, but gets pulled further into Madeleine’s lies. The feeling is of despair and hopelessness for the two characters; though they are together now, there are forces suggested ripping them apart. Those forces are the implied; through a ghost story told by Gavin and Madeleine Elster that Scottie begins to believe, and the truth that Gavin Elster has hired a doppleganger to be his wife and mislead Scottie as part of his plan to kill his wife. This sequence conveys the treachery of Scottie’s friend Gavin setting him up, Judy impersonating Madeleine to mislead him, and at the same time the supernatural happening which is all part of the set up.

Hitchcock’s use of mise-en-scene projects this sense of disparity and hopelessness in the forest sequence. The trees are huge and majestic, overpowering the image of the screen. Andre Bazin illustrates the idea of image when he said, “By image I here mean, very broadly speaking, everything that the representation on the screen adds to the object there represented.” Madeleine and Scottie are viewed in the corner as tiny figures in the screen. The dichotomy of the characters and the trees make the scene sinister. There is light in the front ground of the shot where the car is, however, in the corner of the shot Scottie and Madeleine are walking into it is darkened by the shade of the trees. The viewer in this shot is suddenly transported with the fade from a comfortable sea road to a menacing land, where we feel foreboding danger lies in waiting for us. In the next shot we have a similar placement when we see the two standing next to a large singular sequoia. Scottie and Madeleine talk about the tree, and Scottie tells her it is “two thousand years or so.” The tree’s given age, combined with the juxtaposition of the wide shot, gives us a menacing view of a giant domineering sequoia tree enveloping them. Madeleine talks about how many people must have lived and died in the tree’s lifetime, furthering the ominous feeling set in the woods. However, the film is now building up to the idea that as old as these trees are so is Madeleine’s “soul.” In the film this will propel Scottie to believe Madeleine, allowing him to become a rube in Elster’s plot.

Madeleine and Scottie are dominated by the giant sequoias. Scottie blends in, while Madeleine's coat makes her stand out.

Mortality becomes an issue in this scene.The lifespan of the trees, as Madeleine points out, shadows the life and death over several individuals during that point and time. She states that she does not like the trees, because it puts her into the frame of mind of “knowing she has to die.” The trees become a symbol of life and death; both Madeleine’s “former” life and a foreshadowing of her future death, as Madeleine Elster and then as Judy Barton. Madeleine talks about the future as if it were hopeless, and we feel as though it were hopeless because we remember Madeleine’s past “life,” and the tragic death there. This scene, as well as several others in the movie, have a sense of foreboding and disparity about them.

The forest is presented as being very dark. Light has trouble getting through the trees, the trees and the floor being covered by deep shadows. Scottie and Madeleine themselves are lit in such a way that you would almost think that they were indoors, not outside. Madeleine wears a white coat through the sequence so she stands out in the shadows; whereas Scottie is wearing a dark suit and blends in with the shadows in shots as he walks in arm with her. They are shot with soft romantic lighting, with Madeleine practically glowing. It is believable lighting within the redwood forest, and draws us into the scene. The romantic glow on her face as Scottie questions her, probing about her “past” life, as she tries to deflect the answers, makes us begin to believe her lies, just as Scottie begins to believe them as well. The two of them are in the literal and metaphoric dark as Gavin Elster, the real Madeleine’s spouse, makes his plans to kill Madeleine. The two are pawns in his plans, and Scottie is in the dark.

In the end of the sequence they leave the redwood forest. Scottie asks Madeleine where she would like to go, and she responds, “Somewhere in the light.” With that they exit the forest and go back to the beach, where they find light. Then Madeleine leads Scottie back into the darkness by answering his questions with more lies. The forest is the set up, and this is the punchline. Madeleine is then capable of telling Scottie about the deal with the grave in Spain. She questions her sanity and states that she isn’t mad, but gives into the delusional idea that her past life is haunting her. This allows Scottie to kiss her, signing his fate, as he falls in love with her. Hitchcock makes use of rear projection in this sequence by timing their kiss with the splash of an ocean wave. The two events happening at the same time make it all the more dramatic, and it seems to be destiny for the two to kiss. The whole sequence is about the disparity of Madeleine and Scottie falling for it. We believe him because the woods become a dark tunnel that they are passing through together, after which Scottie is able to “rescue” her and bring her into the light. 

Hitchcock is considered an auteur director, as well as a genre director at times. This means that there are repetitive motifs, themes, and ideologies in his films that reflect who he is and what he thinks. Robin Wood wrote, “It is only through the medium of the individual that ideological tensions come into particular focus, hence become of aesthetic as well as sociological interest.” Robin Wood explains that the suspense of his Hitchcock’s films, “his ‘suspense’ always carries a sexual charge in ways sometimes obvious, sometimes esoteric....[S]exual relationships in his work are inevitably based on power, the obsession with power and dread of impotence being as central to his method as to his thematic.”

 Hitchcock uses the obsession with power and sexual relationships in Vertigo as well, slowly developing Madeleine and Scottie’s relationship. 

Many of Hitchcock’s films have male protagonists that stare obsessively at their female counterparts, such as in Rear Window and Marnie. Vertigo has an obsessive protagonist as well. Scottie becomes a voyeur, a spectator, watching Madeleine. Laura Mulvey wrote that, “Scottie’s voyeurism is blatant: he falls in love with a woman he follows and spies on without speaking to.” In the redwoods sequence it is much the same as well. He watches her, never tells her anything but only asks her questions. Mulvey says that Scottie’s “erotic drive is to break down and force her to tell by persistent cross questioning.” That is exactly what Scottie does here in this scene; he watches Madeleine, never telling her much about himself, instead only interacting with her by interrogating her like a police officer, digging deeper into Madeleine’s hesitant stories, which makes her more believable.

The scene in the redwoods gives way to the feeling of despair about the doomed relationship between Scottie and Madeleine. As they walk through the forest, discussing Madeleine’s thoughts, we are aware of both the words she says and doesn’t say. The tragic nature of their relationship is given a feeling of predetermined doom, that life will outweigh them. Hitchcock’s use of mise-en-scene presents the redwoods as giants bearing over Scottie and Madeleine, suggesting in the long run they are insignificant, which they are, even in their own lives, being pawns in Elster’s plans. The lighting is dark and bleak in the forest, with most of the trees covered in shadows, the light hidden from them. Scottie, as well as the audience, begins to believe Madeline's deception and thinks she is being drawn in by a past life, while at the same time the atmosphere doesn’t betray the reality of Judy and Elster’s lies to Scottie. 

The Spectacle of Sex in Strange days

Strange Days is a late 90's Film Noir/Sci-fi genre film by Katherine Bigelow, set in the near future. The first draft of the film was written by her former husband, James Cameron. The film deals deeply with issues of race and sex. It is owned by Universal Studios.

This is part of a series of papers I wrote for a Humanities class last semester.

The a central plot device to the film Strange Days is the use of the SQUID, an electronic device that records an individuals senses to a disk that can later be replayed for another persons pleasure. The use of the SQUID can help people experience things that they would likely not experience otherwise; sexual encounters, theft, etc. The SQUID becomes the ultimate spectacle replacing not just visual images but all of a persons senses. “The spectacle cannot be understood as a mere visual excess produced by mass-media technologies. It is a worldview that has actually been materialized, a view of a world that has become objective.” What is the world view that has materialized in Strange Days? That men dominate women, and white men dominate all. The film presents a bleak future in which LA has become a police state, and powerful men buy and murder for control.

Here we see Tom Sizemore as Max experiencing the SQUID.

It is the men who dominate in the film; record producer Philo Gant who keeps tight control over his women, Max dominates over the singer Faith and the other women he rapes. Women have no control over the film. Faith is a shell of a woman, who has been battered emotionally and physically by the men in her life now has become a compliant shell. She obeys whoever is the biggest male that can guarantee her a form of safety. She leaves Lenny for Philo Gant who can give her wealth and promises her a career, then she leaves Philo for Max who guarantees her safety from Philo’s abuse. Each male is a step in a spiral downward. She is destructing and taking place in it. Many of the men are obsessed with replay through the SQUID’s. Max uses it so that when he rapes and kills women they are forced to watch it from his perspective. Philo Gant has SQUIDS planted on persons under his employ so he can keep tabs on his assets. The SQUID, a spectacle, becomes a source of control. Controlling not only by surveillance, but now what other people experience.

Spectacle becomes a greater factor for Lenny, Philo Gant, and Max. They have become seperate and distant from other people in their lives. Max lies about who is; claiming to be Lenny’s friend while setting him up. Philo Gant can’t communicate or connect with people so he keeps tabs on them with SQUIDS’s on spies; using brute force to keep those who oppose him from falling out of line. Lenny can’t get over the past he had with Faith, his ex-girlfriend; he replays disks of them interacting over and over. This creates further distant between him and Faith, because he objectifies her as well.

Faith becomes a spectacle to Lenny obsessing over her. He creates a distance with her by stopping interacting with her, replaying SQUID imagery of her. Faith tries to talk to Lenny, but Lenny never listens to her. He objectifies her in his mind, she no longer is a person but a spectacle. DeBord writes that the spectacle “is at once a faithful reflection of the production of things and a distorting objectification of the producers.” SQUID replays and sneaking into Faith’s performances are ways of playing out the experience he wants, neither situation is real. Lenny creating a spectacle of Faith rather than interacting removes himself from her life. McKenzie Wark writes of those who play video games, a form of spectacle, but then remove themselves from making history because of it. Lenny too removes himself from a positive history of Faith by clinging onto the past in a literal form of recorded SQUID disks containing those memories.

Watching the film I realized that I was like Lenny, holding onto memories of a former girlfriend and turning them into something they were not. She was a different person, and so was I. Like Lenny I became slightly pathetic and unable to act. Those memories of my former love had become a spectacle of their own, keeping me moving in a direction that I had chosen; not one that I necessarily wanted. DeBord states, “the spectacle represents the dominant model of life. It is the omnipresent affirmation of the choices that have already been made in the sphere of production and in the consumption implied by that production. In both form and content the spectacle serves as a total justification of the conditions and goals of the existing system.” I, not just a state or overseeing organization, created a spectacle in my own life to keep myself and the status quo moving; similar to Lenny.

The film depicts men objectifying women over and over; in both personal ways-like Lenny, pornographic ways-the buyers, and sadistic ways-like Max. There is a separation between the sexes, they never see woman as more than objects for the majority of the film. Strange Days isn’t largely pessimistic about men, however. The end shows Max connecting with Mace. Mace who is as just as powerful and intelligent- if not more so- than any of the men in power, is thrown down in the film like the other women. When Lenny is able to stop making a spectacle of the past he is able to move on and connect with Mace.