Monday, October 29, 2012

Week 3 - Genre

Hutchings' Genre Theory and Criticism provided a very novel and thoughtful overview of the first stirrings of identifying film by genre and its implications. I knew I would have to really pay attention (but really get something out of the reading, too) when I had to pause for a moment and think about how "genre as a subject for discussion has always transcended the traditional boundaries of film studies." Normally, that's a sentence that I would just gloss over, seeing it but not really reading it. It has buzzwords of academia: transcend traditional boundaries. Now you know that must be important! All kidding aside, what it really means is that in this case film is a tool to convey a universal message that plays off of or reinforces other commonly divulged information. This could be true of another film, a book, something verbally communicated, maybe, dare I say it, even static art. But I digress...

Bazin is just everywhere. There's no getting around him, but I'm usually accustomed to seeing André invoked with regard to auteurism. It was refreshing to see that even Hutchings noted Bazin's very old-school analysis and that it should be taken with a grain of salt when used to examine more modern cinema. I think he used the word "baroque," which I think even Bazin would enjoy. It's an admission that film theory and criticism thereof is imperfect, as addressed later in questioning the western genre and wether in the 1970s strict genre theory and criticism may have restricted films to being 'classical' westerns and not allowing the genre to be 'mercurial' as nature deemed, as described by Kitses.

Another thing I found interesting, though, was how Hutchings noted that genre was often built off of auteur tendencies. In a way, genre theory highlights commonalities across films in the same way auteur theory demonstrates common threads between a filmmakers works. It's like industrial auteur theory! OH, now THAT'S something! Cool. I like this Hutchings guy...

Grant, on the other hand... well, I'm not exactly enamored. Long story short, he invokes film textbook gods Bordwell and Thompson, explains formal decisions and implications by genre, and provides lots (AND LOTS) of examples. Granted, they are very good examples, but it's kind of like being taught the color wheel: we each know what colors look like to our own eyes, delving any deeper is for artists (which I guess, actually, we are... ah, the life of a film student!) or the very, very literal. Come to think of it, my mother would like reading this. She's an antitrust lawyer. Explaining mise en scene was a fun discussion that turned into three hours of ranting about the film "Blow Up", rotten fruit, and, ultimately, I gave up.

I hadn't thought about genre in a while, actually, before last weeks class. In day-to-day conversation, at least, genre seems to be dismissed as a way to sort through which movies you might want to watch on Netflix or rent/buy at a store. How clever it is to think of it the other way around! Besides providing a proven framework of success for our lovely capitalist industry to pop out another movie, it also provides audiences with a pre-coded way to process the information. It's a key! When we're prepared to see an action movie, we know exactly which parts to pay attention to (pace slows, important dialogue, closer camera shots) and which parts are spectacle (MichaelBay'Splosion). I used to think that making a film that fit so nicely into a genre would be, well, generic in a not-so-good way. In reality, it's in playing with genre, maybe subverting a few qualities here and there, making the audience comfortable enough to be able to question things and recognize key differences and points of uniqueness, that a truly intriguing film is made.

On the flip side, there's something to be said for sitting down to watch a completely hokey old B-movie. I LOVE bad sci-fi monster movies. They are, for the most part, very formulaic but occasionally you get one that tried to do something out of the ordinary and failed miserably. Something about that, though, is kind of charming. I'm talking Plan Nine from Outer Space, The Monster That Challenged the World, The Blob... well, Forbidden Planet was actually pretty good, it even had some impressive special effects animation. I guess modern relatives of these movies would be anything in the Megashark vs. family. These movies totally bomb but still get made, right now Megashark vs. Mechashark is in production. I wish I knew why. But you know what? I'm still going to watch it. I know it's a bad movie, but there's something comfortable, like going to the book store to pick up a Pullitzer Prize-winning novel and then on the way out the door also grabbing some cheesy comic from the bargain bin that's so bad it's hilarious.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Week 2 - Editing

It's been a while since I've seen a text on film theory where I didn't have to read each paragraph three times over just to make sense of it. Not just that, but I really enjoyed this reading, too! Bravo, Valerie Orpen!! I'm often frustrated when texts are too black-and-white with their definitions of filmic styles and form, or insist that a certain film is expressly one or another.


While the moving image was developed, we discovered more and more that we could do with the newfound intricacies and techniques.

Continuity editing; different tendencies nationally but really just used that which was most effective at conveying particular message of each individual film. unify thoughts to make most widely comprehensible.
- 180 degree: often associated with "Hollywood" editing, but really present in most western film and others. Maybe becoming less relevant, though? Classic hollywood and new hollywood, but not ALL hollywood. Because mostly refers to older types of formula, whereas films these days can push envelope more: though we as a whole have a shorter attention span, audiences more used to fast editing, can notice changes more readily and process information in short bursts. punctuate ease of narration with postmodern interest. (17-18)

-emphasis on the speaker -emphasis on listener/reaction -emphasis on action (21)

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Umberto D.
Start just before 11 minute mark
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vnvj0horjGc

Now for an analysis of 5 minutes of one of my favorite films, Vittorio de Sica's Umberto D. I will say that I've done a fair amount of other classwork examining Italian Cinema in the past and couldn't resist explaining a little more about things in this kitchen scene that relate to the film as a whole.


Background info: Made in 1952, de Sica’s employs the same Italian Neo-Realistic techniques as in his earlier work, Ladri di biciclette. It follows the downward spiraling life of Umberto Domenico Ferrari, a post-war pensioner seemingly forgotten by the reconstructing world. De Sica uses Neo-Realist tactics to make Umberto’s tragic story mimic the reality of so many Italian citizens in the post-war state.

Besides using nonprofessional actors in order to increase the sense that this story could be one of any average Italian, the most indicative device of Neo-Realism present in Umberto D. is the use of deeply focused and long takes. In this scene, we first meet Maria in the kitchen. The camera cuts maybe five times over the course of five minutes. During these long takes, we focus primarily on Maria as she moves about the kitchen doing what appear to be daily routines: getting water for the dog, plucking a chicken for the next meal, washing things in the sink, etc. In fact, the camera seems to remain planted in the middle of the room while following Maria in a full circle around the edges of the room. It's generally a medium shot from the waist up, unless she is bending down to water the dog in which case the camera pulls out just enough to reveal just enough of that action so we understand what is going on, then it closes back in on a medium shot.

The following sequence in Umberto’s bedroom also demonstrates actions that are a part of his particular daily life. In the longest take, the camera follows him as raises the blinds, opens the shutters, then closes every window from one side of his room to the other. This formal choice taken with Umberto highlights his slow rejection of the outside world and everyone around him.

With Maria, though, the longest take shows her, rather futilely, trying to eradicate ants from the kitchen.

((NOTE: This next bit isn't expressly relevant to editing, but I felt weird NOT including it as it is the LONGEST take in the film, so is noteworthy in that sense. Why would de Sica choose to highlight it through specific editing and camerawork if not to make us recognize its importance and examine it further?)) The constant battle has a dual symbolism. In both instances, the ants symbolize the Italian peoples, but very different sets of people. One interpretation is that they mirror the pensioner’s march at the beginning of the film and the lower class in general. After the war, many were left in situations similar to that of Umberto. Like ants, they washed across the cities, searching for money, food, anything, only to be brushed off and shooed by the other half of the country like what Maria does with the burning newspaper and the hose on the faucet. On the other hand, the ants could represent the upper class like Umberto’s landlady and the government in general whose primary interests lie in themselves and their money. The government withholds money from the pensioners while the landlady tries to extract as much as possible from Umberto. Like the ants, they are unavoidable and constantly present, sapping the life out of the lower class while bettering their own.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Week 1 - Auteurism

After throwing the word "auteurism" back and forth in various classes for the last four years, it still makes me feel gross talking about it. It's not a pointless notion, but it is not anything remarkable or necessary. Any work, creative or not, will most likely show similarities to other works by the same creator. It is nothing unusual. That an entire film created through the collaboration of many people could possibly be attributed to just one "auteur" is laughable. While the director leads the team in the direction of a common goal (production and eventual distribution and an audience's viewing), it is hardly just "his". Each camera move is in the hand of a cinematographer and then camera operator. The relatable nature of a character depends upon the effectiveness of the actor and also the scriptwriter. The pacing and how engaging a film is addressed by the editor and composer. Unless it is honestly a solo piece created by ONE person, a film is and must be a collaborative. Actually, as soon as a film is viewed by an audience, even a solo project, is BECOMES a collaboration. Without an audience, a film is just a personal study, a hobby. I'm getting a little too close to the "tree falling in the woods, does it make a sound?" scenario. I digress...

Per Barthes,the explanation of the work is always sought in the man who has produced it, as if, through the more or less transparent allegory of fiction, it was always finally the voice of one and the same person, the author, which delivered his “confidence.” In actuality, the most relevant explanation of a work is the one arrived at by each individual, each audience. The creator of the work has already done his job and it rests upon his technical skill in chosen medium as to the ultimate impression that each audience may glean upon viewing. If a writer has a good idea, but cannot convey it effectively, then many nuances and subtext may be lost. Alternately, someone may view what is renowned by many to be a priceless piece of art, but if it is not to his liking, then, bluntly, it is his own problem.

What is most irksome to me, however, is when someone dissects PUBLICLY an expressive work and states their opinion of interpretation objectively as FACT. While common discussion of person interpretation is often enjoyable and might open people up to possibilities they had not otherwise considered, imposing ones view onto others and REJECTING theirs destroys the entire intention of the work: to be accessible to anyone.

It is the responsibility of creators to create well and it is the responsibility of the audience to be both receptive and think critically when prompted and yet also be able to simply sit back and enjoy the experience.

To finish, here's a thought from one of my undergrad classes that's stuck with me: "All art is the product of just such compromise between the artist’s idea and the inflexible properties of his medium [and, I posit, audience]. And any creative man who is not in a constant state of siege is not worth his license."