Sunday, December 18, 2011

Final Essay #2


1.)  Pan: When the camera moves horizontally across the screen from either right to left or left to right.  An example of panning is seen towards the end of Desperately Seeking Susan when Susan and the antagonist come through the window.  The camera pans from Roberta to the window, revealing the action taking place.

2.)  Subjective Camera: When the camera is used to model the point of view of a specific character.  This is seen towards the beginning of Desperately Seeking Susan when Roberta looks through the viewfinder n hopes of ‘seeking’ Susan.

3.)  Bridging Shot: A shot used to bridge a gap in time in the film.  This is seen at the very end of Desperately Seeking Susan when the newspaper headlines reveal that Susan and Roberta had given the missing earrings to the museum for money.

4.)  Montage: The editing of scenes together in order to tell a simple narrative or convey an idea.  This is seen at the beginning of Desperately Seeking Susan when both Susan and Roberta are viewing the personal ad and traveling to the park.

5.)  Continuity Cut: This is a cut that logically takes the view from one scene to the next in an uninterrupted fashion.  This can be seen in Desperately Seeking Susan when Roberta is in the jail.  Her husband finds out and ventures to bail her out.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Beauty and the Beast (1946)


Mike Di Benedetto, 12/12/11, Beauty and the Beast (La Belle et la Bete), French, 1947, Jean Cocteau, 93 minutes.
            Beauty and the Beast is a fine example of just how well a film can detach the viewer from reality with its use of visuals and theme.  Cocteau was a poet first, and it certainly shows; whereas words on paper would provide his audience with imagery in a poem, lighting, effects and the gothic surrealism provide it here – making each frame a standalone work of art.  Perhaps the most astounding fact about Beauty and the Beast is that it accomplishes so much visually that one can’t help but forget it was made over 60 years ago.  In relation to other films we have viewed, it definitely stands out in its ability to sweep the viewer off his/her feet and plant him/her right in the midst of all the magic happening on screen.  I will be analyzing this film from a visual perspective. 
            The first article I read was a review by Roger Ebert for the Chicago Sun-Times.  Ebert begins with the simple truth that most of us are familiar with Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, and most of us may not have even known that the 1946 version exists.  He then assures the ready that, although there are some major similarities between both films, the tones, visually and emotionally, drastically differ.  Ebert summarizes the plot a bit before delving into perhaps the film’s best quality – the visuals.  He notes on how the “outdoor realism” of the town and Belle’s house contrasts with the “indoor fantasy” of Beast’s castle and surrounding area. Ebert also mentions the use of effects and trickery, such as the smoke surrounding Beast, the moving statues inside the castle and the iPad-esque mirror.  Ebert ends his review on the acknowledgment that although a poet, Cocteau wanted to appeal to his audience through images rather than words.
            The second article I looked at was by David Galef, entitled “A Sense of Magic: Reality and Illusion in Cocteau’s Beauty and the Beast.”  Galef discusses the techniques used by Cocteau by use of visuals and effects.  He describes specific scenes and praises the film for its mystifying and intoxicating capabilities.  Galef also talks about how much works went into set design as well as costume designs.  He recalls a testimonial by the actor who plays Beast who said his costume was so elaborate that it was actually difficult for him to stand and walk. 
            Both these articles describe just how visually stunning Beauty and the Beast is.  Both authors write about specific scenes that impacted them on a personal and emotional level.  Ebert mentions the contrast between realism and fantasy – how one minute you’re witnessing Belle’s real-world tribulations in dealing with her uppity sisters and her father’s imminent trial conviction – the next minute you’re submerged in a fantastical world decorated in magical nuances and gothic imagery.  This ongoing contrast makes for a surreal and captivating adventure.
            I personally enjoyed this film on many levels.  The story is timeless and beautiful, the characters are psychologically, brilliantly done, and the acting is emotionally resonant.  However, by far, my favorite aspect of this film was its visuals – both haunting and magical, and the article I read gave me more insight into the techniques and hard work behind this superb imagery.  In conclusion, Beauty and the Beast is not a film that is to just be watched but one that must also be experienced.

References
Ebert, J. (December 26 1999). Beauty and the Beast (1946).  Chicago Sun-Times.  http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/19991226/REVIEWS08/912260301/1023

Galef, D. (1984). A sense of magic: reality and illusion in Cocteau's beauty and the beast. Literature Film Quarterly, 12(2), 96.

Haiku PowerPoint

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Rear Window


Mike Di Benedetto, 12/7/11, Rear Window, American, 1954, Alfred Hitchcock, PG, 114 minutes, 4 Academy Award nominations.
            Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window is a unique experience.  While viewing the film, one is not simply engaged in a story with characters but takes the perspective of the lead character, Jeff Jeffries.  Rear Window is an analysis of human perception and the impulsive nature of curiosity.  In contrast to other films viewed in this class, this one puts the you so close to the leading character that you can’t help but agree with and believe him on all levels; you see what he sees and ultimately thinks what he thinks.
            The first article I read was a review by James Berardenelli for Reelviews.net.  Berardenelli begins with some plot points and talks about how Jeff has broken his leg and as a result, is now driven to voyeurism – spying on his neighbors through his camera lens.  He then suggests that Rear Window is “One of the most engrossing … groundbreaking studies of voyeurism…”  Berardenelli also talks about the actual murder and we, interestingly, never actually witness it; instead, we are given all clues through Jeff’s eyes.  Berardenelli calls this setup “masterful.”
            The second article I read was by David Baker, entitled “Seeing is Believing: Detective and Romance in Rear Window.”  In this article, Baker focuses on the clash between masculinity and femininity in the film.  After witnessing everything, Jeff has trouble convincing the females in his life (girlfriend and nurse) – this struggle is consistent throughout most the film, however, Baker notes on how the investigation eventually brings the cast together. 
            These two articles highlight the power of human perception – how we can see things that aren’t there just as well as miss things that are.  Jeff’s situation renders him immobile and jobless, which leads him to spying.  The surrounding character can’t help but behave skeptically towards him when he informs them of what he has witnessed. 
            Personally, I felt this film did a tremendous hob in making the viewer walk (or rather not walk in this case) in the character’s shoes.  Through clever cinematography, a genuine perspective is defined.  Baker brought up interesting points regarding the male/female relationships in the film; a very real conflict of the film is not just solving a suspected murder but also Jeff convincing the supporting roles to believe him – and possibly convincing himself as well.

References
Baker, D. (2008). Seeing is believing: detective and romance in rear window. Screen Education, (51), 125-130.
Berardenelli, J. (2011). Rear Window.  Reelview Movie Reviews.  http://www.reelviews.net/php_review_template.php?identifier=704

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Chinatown

Mike Di Benedetto, 11/30/11, Chinatown, American, 1974, Roman Polanski, Best Original Screenplay, 1991(Academy Awards)
            Film Noir emerged in the era following World War II.  Its attributes typically paint a dark picture for the viewer – dark rooms, dark alleys, dimly lit detective offices and rain-reflecting roads.  These films have fast and witty dialogue; dialogue that is, from an objectives standpoint, quite unnatural.  I found that although this film was certainly stylistically different from other films we have viewed, the major difference is this fashion in which the characters communicate with one another.  This contrast is particularly evident when compared to a French New Wave film – a genre that strongly focuses on realistic conversation, in my opinion.  I will be analyzing this film from the film noir genre perspective
            The first article I read was a review by Bill Thompson of Bill's Movie Emporium.  Thompson talks about how Chinatown was made after Film Noir was already dead and because of this, the film presents itself as both homage and a contemporary take on the genre.  He points out the apparent fact that it is not in black and white like it’s Noir ancestors but reaffirms is genre-entitlement for it’s classic plot, dialogue and character standards. 
            The second article I read was by Hunter Cordaiy, entitled “Through a Dark Lens, Darkly: Teaching Chinatown. In this article, Cordaiy claims the film to be “one of the most complexly layered narratives of recent cinema” and describes it as a reconstruction of a noir story.  Cordaiy adds that the film deceives and seduces its audience much like film’s characters behave towards one another.
            These two articles agree that Chinatown indeed follows the tradition of noir cinema but certainly adds ingredients to the formula.  One example, as Thompson puts it, is the lack of subtlety seen in 40s and 50s noir films; sex is no longer something implied – it happens.  Cordaiy also comments on the abundance of violence this movie packs, however notes that all fight and action scenes are done in typical noir tradition.
            Personally, this was a film I wanted to enjoy from the get-go.  I’m a huge Jack Nicholson fan, and his performance was nothing short of specatacular.  The supporting roles were as well noteworthy.  Like all noir films, the plot and story-sequence can seem a bit muddy upon first watch, and I would recommend follow-up viewing for anyone who has seen this.  I agree with Thompson in the sense that the film followed typical Film Noir rules but also knew when to contemporize aspects and push the limitations set by its predecessors. 

References
Cordaiy, H. (2009). Through a lens, darkly: teaching chinatown. Screen Education, (54), 119-124.

Thompson, R. (2009, March 8). Chinatown (1974).  Bill’s Movie Emporium. http://billsmovieemporium.wordpress.com/2009/03/08/r eview-chinatown-1974/

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

The Searchers


Mike Di Benedetto, 11/1/11, The Searchers, American, 1956, John Ford, National Film Registry Award, 1989.
            The Searchers was a Western film made in a time when the Western genre was facing its own mortality.  Native Americans were no longer being subjected to such antagonist roles, and America was thrusting forth at full speed into the turbulent decade that lay ahead – one of much change and liberal progression.  John Ford and the film follow all the rules attached to the genre; from the way the opening sequences are presented to the main character’s macho demeanor John Wayne portrays so well, many will argue that, although a little late on arriving in the scene, The Searchers may be one of the finest Westerns ever made.
        The first article I read was a review by Roger Ebert for the Chicago Sun newspaper.  Right from the get-go, Ebert is praising the film for its “magnificent scenes” and blatant influence on American film since its release.  Ebert goes on to talk about the brilliance behind Wayne’s character, Ethan – the conflict of ideals his character deals with, as well as the audience who’s questioning whether or not to root for the guy.  Ebert concludes with the notion that the film successfully recognizes the concept of a ‘complicated’ hero – a model that has been seen since in films like Taxi Driver, The Godfather and Star Wars.
            The second article I read was written by Ken Nolley and taken from the Journal of Film & History.  The article focuses on Ford’s films and their use of Native Americans.  Nolley talks about how many Westerns, The Searchers in particular, follow characters that are clearly racist, and although the films depict events in a historical context, the anomaly from the standard ‘hero with good morals’ model may leave the audience a bit conflicted. 
            These two articles tie together to strengthen the idea that the film conceived the first great, complicated protagonist.  Ethan is a racist man –a very racist man who almost enjoys murdering Indians, yet he’s also the guy the audience wants to cheer for.  His character is multi-layered, contradicting and rich; it’s this complexity that makes us want to root for him – witness his evolution and progression as a person.
            Aside from its evident and ingenious visual and scene presentation, captivating dialogue and radiant acting, The Searchers real gift to its audience is its character depth.  Though never too obvious, the character gravity and growth is simply breathtaking throughout the entire movie – even by today’s standards.  As I watched the film, I found myself entranced in Ethan’s behavior and unpredictability (especially being a psychology major) and was overwhelmed by the character development of, not only Ethan, but supporting roles as well.  The Searcher is not only a film meant to be enjoyed by Western buffs, but by anyone willing to appreciate it for its compelling story telling, magnificent cinematography and stunning character dimension.

References
Ebert, R. (2001, November 25). The searchers. The Chicago Sun.
Nolley, K. (1993). John ford and the hollywood indian. 23(1-4), 44-56.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Rashomon


Mike Di Benedetto, 10/18/11, Rashomon, Japanese, Akira Kurosawa, 1951 Vince Festival (Grand Prize, 1951), Academy Award (Best Foreign Film, 1952).
            Rashomon is the kind of film that deserves to be mentioned in the context of any reputable conversation of impressive cinema.  The film can be approached and appreciated to a vast degree from a number of vantage points: the symbolism, the fine cinematography, and the way it questions human morality and ethics.  In many ways, Rashomon was ahead of its time and while borrowing both elements of western and eastern filmmaking succeeded in conceiving something powerful and original, even by today’s standards.
            The first article I read was a review by Roger Ebert for the Chicago Sun and was taken from “rogerebert.suntimes.com.”  Ebert begins with some background on the film and states that it seemed doomed from the start; the studio was reluctant to make it, and many felt the story was incomprehensible and confusing.  Yet once it was released, it took much of the world by surprise.  Ebert suggests that the genius of the film is that all the flashbacks are both true and false; they convey what the person telling the story believes he or she witnessed.  Ebert goes on to say that aside from the excellent storytelling, the film’s brilliance also lies in its visuals emotions.
            The second article I read was written by Keiko McDonald, entitled “Light and Darkness in Rashomon” and was taken from pages 120-129 from the 1982, 10th volume of the Film Quarterly.  The article opens with some information on Rashomon’s background and achievements.  The author then focuses the remainder of the article on the film’s symbolism via use of visuals and lighting.  He discusses the contrast of setting between the story’s events; the murder and rape take place in a dark forest, the contemplation of the priest, the woodcutter and the commoner are set in the pouring rain, and the trial is held in the calm of day while the sun is blazing.  McDonald continues with his interpretation of the film’s symbolism all the while suggesting the impressive nature of the film.
            To me, Rashomon was a film composed by a perfect storm – stunning cinematography, symbolism and storytelling.  The very concept of telling a story through a series of distorted flashbacks is one that screams genius and has been borrowed by many since – television and film.  Rashomon broke Japanese cinema into the western world – and rightfully so.  Even though it was made more than a half of century ago, it’s the kind of film that couldn’t ever feel dated, and I would recommend it to anyone seeking a rich cinematic experience.