Friday, April 10, 2009

Why is all good cinema Fascist or Communist?

When Walter Benjamin published his “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction” he wrote that he worried that political message would soon control works of art and force them to conform to various standards, rather than allowing for the creativity. As we have been studying films, it has struck me how what are considered the “great films” of the interwar period came from the polar extremes of ideologies: the communist Soviet Union with Sergei Eisenstein and “Man with a Movie Camera” and Nazi Germany with Leni Riefenstahl’s “Triumph of the Will”. In this entry, I will be exploring first why these ideologies produced these so called great films, and conversely, why capitalist democratic societies did not. I will then address how fascist, communist, and capitalist ideologies played a role on the creative process of making film.

On the first question: why did Communists and Nazis make the best films. The answer was that they lived in an all or nothing era of filmmaking. If you were lucky enough to have your movie idea approved by the state, you could then expect state support to allow you to complete your vision. Especially if your film was a propaganda film designed to make the leaders of the countries seem all powerful, like in “Will”. Ironically, in capitalist countries, there was, and still are, many restrictions on the vision of films. That is because in capitalist countries film is not a tool of the government, it is an industry, designed to generate money. Film makers don’t want a beautiful film about everyday life, they want a film that will excite and awe the audiences. Even the great films from the U.S. were big money makers like “Gone with the Wind.” In this sense, Benjamin may have been mistaken. It seems that it was the greed of businessmen, more than the hunger of dictators that led to stricter control over the art of film.

Nevertheless, the prevailing ideologies of a particular country have a deep influence on the product of various film makers. “Triumph of the Will” has a feel of military order. The camera stays in line with the marching Nazi and consistently pays homage to Hitler’s power. The movements of the camera reflect, unintentionally, the amount of control Hitler has over the German people. The camera has very little freedom, despite a great amount of resources. “Man with a Movie Camera” is just the opposite. It seemingly has no direction, trying instead to capture various aspects of life. It focuses on the regular citizens, with very little cues for the audience to follow. This reflects, the free, and somewhat chaotic nature of the Soviet state. The camera moves freely, but with very few resources and very little guidance. While freedom was getting more limited under Stalin, there was no shortage of chaos. This is how all ideologies, be it Nazi, Communist, or Capitalist, impose their view on works of art in the age of mechanical reproduction.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Chinatown: Tribute or Satire

As I read John G. Cawelti's article "Chinatown and Generic Transformation in Recent American Film", I began to question Chinatown's role in the genre of Film Noir. Cawelti portrays Chinatown as more of a satire on the film noir genre. When I say satire, I am not referring to the humorous satire. Rather, Roman Polanski's film is showing the flaws in the film noir genre by having an imperfect protagonist, a weak femme fatale, and an incredibly dark ending.

However, in my opinion Chinatown was just as much (if not more) a tribute to the film noir genre as it was a satire of it. The important thing to note about Chinatown was when it was made, 1974, compared to film noir which was made in the 1940’s and 1950’s. The difference between the two eras was The Hays Code, which dictated strict rules on movies. In 1967, the code was replaced by the rating system, allowing far more taboo subjects to be shown on screen. This change coincided (or potentially caused) the rise of New Hollywood directors, including Roman Polanski.

The possible reason that Chinatown was so dark was because it could be. In 1945 there would have been no way that Chinatown could have been released. Here are just a few examples. The fact that incest was a major plot point would have disqualified the film. Faye Dunaway’s death was shown with violent realism and thus would be cut out. Even the passionate kiss between Dunaway and Nicholson might have been too much for the censors. Yet all of these factors added so much more to the film that in my opinion it would be criminal to censor these factors.

This is why I feel Roman Polanski made Chinatown as an ode to the older film noirs. Ironically, John Huston plays a character that is so evil that he could have never have appeared in Huston’s own film noirs. Polanski tired to make the film noir that many directors might have wanted to make but were not allowed to make. It is the ultimate form of noir, one without restrictions. It shows how dark the genre could get. Thus rather than satirizing the noir film of old for their somewhat idealistic plotlines, Chinatown is the culmination of all of these older film noirs. It is the darkest of the dark. This film is the noirest of the noirs.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Don't Read too much into this Post.

In the film Donnie Darko, Donnie is shown a portal, a window to view another part of the world, while he is watching a movie. The delicious irony is of course that film is just such a portal. It allows us to see an entirely different location as if it were right in front of us. The only difference between film and a portal is film feels natural, so we don’t even realize what’s occurring.

As I read Christian Metz, I often found myself thinking he was grossly overanalyzing film as a psychological experience. For example, the idea of voyeurism is often taken too far. To me a voyeur is someone who watches the taboo, or that which they should not be watching. In contrast a spectator is one who watches something they are supposed to be watching and cannot interact with that event. Finally, a bystander is one who can interact with the action but chooses not to.

The problem I have with this analysis is it hardly talks at all about the role of the director. It is the director who has the most control over how we act as an audience. If we stand agape at the chariot race in Ben Hur, then we are spectators. If we feel uncomfortable with a violent scene, we are voyeurs.

However, for the most part, film makers try to makes us feel like false bystanders. Watching and contemplating a film, but never interacting with the action on screen. In fact, we never feel a desire to join the film, and are rather content just to watch it unfold. This is due to both our rationality and the bystander effect, where few people want to take the lead in changing an action they are watching. Still, for a film like Rocky Horror Picture Show the audience gets directly involved with the film, deciding to be bystanders no more.

Metz wants us to believe that we enjoy film due to a subconscious voyeuristic desire. However, I feel this is all wrong. I feel we enjoy film because it is simply a great representation of real life. I also feel that are feelings are affected far more by the choices of the director than by some obsolete Freudian metaphors.

In contrast to Metz, I feel Laura Mulvey is analyzing the psychotic aspects of film in the right way, by looking first at the filmmaker. She treats film as it is a work of art. Thus she works to analyze the artist first and only then moves to analyze the viewer. Also she doesn’t take the psychological theory too far, applying sexual desires to the depiction of women in film. I believe film theory has for too long made mountains out of molehills. Film theorists need to understand that sometimes the simplest answer is the best, and the reasons I like film are very simple and easy to understand. But that’s just my opinion.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Power of the Cinematographer

As I read Garret Cooper's "Narrative Spaces" and Stephen Heaths' "Questions of Cinema", I began to wonder how much of cinematography is intentional. Of all art forms, video is best at replicating life, portraying it as it is seen naturally. Thus the role of the cinematographer is to choose how to frame this slice of life. However, it seems that the choices of the cinematographers fall into one of three categories: decision of the cinematographer, film convention, or a natural choice. I will address all three in this post.

The first to address is decisions by the cinematographer. There are two types of choices. The first is the usual choices by a cinematographer. These include how to light a scene, what camera angles to shoot a scene, what is to be in and out of focus, etc. Most of these types of decisions have to be made for each scene, and all have a large variety in the selections made by the cinematographer. The second type of choice is a breaking of film convention, which I will discuss in more detail in the next paragraph.

Film conventions were discussed in detail by Cooper as he described how cinematographers use many of the same techniques for effects. This includes “shot-reverse shot” to portray conversation, two actors coming into the same frame to portray love, or the frame zooming in on a face to show fear. These standbys have been in the movies for many decades, and are almost always used to portray there intended state of being. When a cinematographer chooses to break these conventions and portrays these states of being in a different way, it stands out. It tells the audience that something is different about this current situation. For example, the way Alfred Hitchcock portrays the relationship between Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine as being not quite natural since their courtship is portrayed with both characters in shot. This lets the audience realize that the relationship began too aggressively. These conventions have been so well established that they feel natural to audiences, as if this is the way life really is.

The final type of choice by the cinematographer is that of the natural choice. This is less of a choice, and more as something that the cinematographer must do, or a plainly logical choice. This is dealt with a lot in narrative space. The point of narrative space is to have the audience know what is occurring outside the frame on screen. It is the duty of the cinematographer to ensure the narrative space is accounted for. However, it is in my opinion that the cinematographer cannot make a choice when working with narrative space. If something occurs off screen, it must be accounted for on screen before or after the event occurs. This is why the narrative space has a naturalistic quality; it exists with specific instructions as to how to use it. In order to create a narrative space, there must first be an establishing shot to create the narrative space. It is only then that the narrative space can be exploited. It also feels that the director, as opposed to the cinematographer, has control over what exists in the narrative space.

Thus the amount of control the cinematographer has over the visual experience depends on aspect of the shot. The cinematographer has nearly complete control of the smaller details like lighting and shot angles. The cinematographer does usually have to work within the paradigms of previous established shots, even when they are defying such paradigms. The cinematographer has the least control over the narrative space, which is governed by a specific set of rules in order to makes the film logical. This is how the cinematographer has control over some but not all of the visual aspects of film.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Cinema Paradiso and Hollywood: Love and Hate

In reading many blog postings this week, many people were talking about how Cinema Paradiso does not fit into David Bordwell definition of a standard Hollywood film. I agree with this assessment, but what makes it so interesting is how much this film is a love letter to classic Hollywood. The film takes care to both mock and honor Hollywood.
First,
Cinema Paradiso shows a priest removing aspects of the Hollywood films. This is the same way with the film itself, it has elements of Hollywood but is not a Hollywood picture. For one there is no clear cut conflict. There is no quest ToTo embarks upon or any evil he must defeat. He simply is growing up. If there is a conflict, it is ToTo's desire to be a projectionist, but this resolved too quickly to be well developed.
In fact, both of ToTo's flashbacks are parodies of classic Hollywood storylines. The first is of the epic quest. Only this quest is a child wanting to project film. The second is the Hollywood romance. It starts with attraction, the an act of love, followed by a conflict. It climaxes just when ToTo says it should, with a cliche kissing scene in the rain.
The final section of the film is one you don't see in Hollywood, one about real life. In this sequence there is no external climax of violence or love, just a man watching clips of movies. And yet, the scene hits you in so many different ways. In some sense the ending is anti-climatic, but in another sense it is one the most powerful emotional climaxes you will ever see.
Cinema Paradiso is about a boy who loves the movies of Hollywood. Yet this film is also a parady of Hollywood films. This why I said Cinema Paradiso has a love-hate relationship with Hollywood. And it is this paradox that makes Cinema Paradiso so beautiful.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Through the Eyes of Film

Walter Benjamin claims in "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" that film is a new form of reproducing life, much like literature and painting before it. However, in watching David Fincher's "Fight Club", it is shown that film can do far more than just reproduce our world it can create one of its own. The twist of "Fight Club" (don't read if you haven't seen) is that Tyler Durden is simply a split personality of the main character. This is a surprise since both the main character and Tyler are seen interacting with other characters. In fact, the narrator is incredibly unreliable since we believe we are watching everything through his eyes when we are often watching them through Tyler's eyes.
This is the power of film, it allows us to see the world in ways we neveer even imagined before. One thing that makes films unique to other mediums of art is how it can break barriers other mediums can't by combining mediums. A film can have the dialouge of a play, the imagery of a photo, and the vision of a painting all at the same time. Film is the cobination of visual art, literature, performance, and music into one fluid product. This is something Walter Benjamin fails to grasp, film doesn't just replicate life, it allows us to see the world in ways never before possible.
To Walter Benjamin, film is simply a new form of art, but to mee is is so much more. Paintings and photographs are limited by the fact they can capture but a moment in life. Photography is also lmited by the fact what is shown must exist in reality, and not just in imagination. Literature is subject to the interpritations of readers, which rarely match the vision of the author. Music invokes emotions, but can never display a clear imagery without explanions by the composer. Film has properties from all of these art forms, with all of their strengths and few of their weaknesses.
This is why a love film. It is intended simply to reproduce life, but in fact it offers so much more. It allows us to see the world in new perspectives and understand new ideas. It takes life to new extremes of the imagination or simply displays everyday struggles. It incorporates various art forms, with feew limitations. This is the brilliance of film.