THE SAME RIVER TWICE IN WARWICK, NEW YORK — A film by Michael McVey (2018)
A pure cinema, non-narrative meditation on the rural American hometown. Featuring the music of Gustav Holst. Run time: 8 minutes 55 seconds.
The Same River Twice in Warwick, New York
A film by Michael McVey
Official Selection of the Warwick Summer Arts Film Festival (2018)
The Planets, Op. 32 — II. Venus, the Bringer of Peace, by Gustav Holst
Performance by The USAF Heritage of America Band
Filmed in Warwick, New York, USA.
Copyright ©2018 by Michael McVey. All Rights Reserved.
Coolidge After Midnite Honors ADRIENNE BARBEAU December 2nd, 2017 at Coolidge Corner Theatre
Watch this celebratory video of actress ADRIENNE BARBEAU at Coolidge Corner Theatre’s popular night-owl movie program—Coolidge After Midnight.
Coolidge After Midnight honors actress, singer, and author ADRIENNE BARBEAU at the Coolidge Corner Theatre. The Boston audience was treated to a 35mm film screening of THE FOG (1979), followed by a special award ceremony and Q&A with Ms. Barbeau.
Hosted by Mark E. Anastasio
December 2nd, 2017
Brookline, Massachusetts, U.S.A.
Filmed and edited by Michael McVey.
Video runtime: 39 minutes.
Copyright © 2017 by Michael McVey. All rights reserved.
88 Questions with Ellen Page [Skiffleboom.com]
“88 Questions with Ariadne” By Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
Audience surrogate ELLEN PAGE asks a lot of questions in INCEPTION… Here’s a video of all 88.
THE MOST BADASS AFRICAN-AMERICAN CHARACTERS IN MOVIE HISTORY
By Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
DVD Verdict’s “Objection” podcast created a list of their MOST BADASS AFRICAN-AMERICAN CHARACTERS IN MOVIE HISTORY for MLK day, 2011 (episode #756). Judge David Johnson and Judge Dan Mancini named their TOP 1o:
Honorable Mention: Billy Dee Williams as Lando Calrissian – Star Wars Episodes 5-6
10. Reginald VelJohnson as Sgt. Al Powell – Die Hard
9. Richard Roundtree as John Shaft – Shaft
8. Samuel L. Jackson as Mace Windu – Star Wars Episodes 1-3
7. Morgan Freeman as Lucius Fox – Batman Begins and The Dark Knight
6. Grace Jones as May Day – A View to a Kill
5. Carl Weathers as Apollo Creed – Rocky 1-4
4. Wesley Snipes as John Cutter – Passanger 57
3. Michael Jai White as Black Dynamite – Black Dynamite.
2. Mr. T as B. A. Baracus – The A-Team
1. Danny Glover as Lt. Mike Harrigan – Predator 2
The gentleman at “Objection” specialize in contrarian a-holery, and offer deliberately restive and hilarious positions on cinematic topics. A fine list, full of both mighty (HARRIGAN!) and unusual (Lucius Fox) choices. Conspicuously absent from the list is THE most BADASS African-American Character in Movie History: Samuel L. Jackson as Jules in “Pulp Fiction”. The role is so iconic, so utterly badass, that the Marine Corp plays his “Ezekiel” speech to fire up Jarheads for deployment.
I personally feel as THE single most BADASS African-American Actor in Movie History, Samuel L. Jackson should be exempt from the list altogether. He’s a given. Like the answer to “who is the greatest basketball player of all time,” there’s just no arguing.
I hereby offer an addendum to the original “Objection” list, taken from my collection.
I am not reusing any of the aforementioned actors, no matter how much I want to. For instance, Carl Weathers is an incredible bad ass in “Action Jackson” (where he jumps 20 feet over a speeding car), but as he was listed by “Objection” for “Rocky”, so I won’t include it.
I am only listing actors once. While Bill Duke was badass in “Commando” and “Pam Grier” is badass in everything, I included only my favorite choice.
I’ve only included movies I’ve seen in full, within the past 10 years (sorry Mario Van Peebles, sorry Billy Blanks). I also don’t include non-human characters (Sorry Michael Dorn)… though formerly human is okay. So please feel free to include your own suggestions in the comments section. And now, without further ado…
THE MOST BADASS AFRICAN-AMERICAN CHARACTERS IN MOVIE HISTORY
Bill Duke as Mac – Predator
Turns jungle into parking lot with mini-gun. Kills boar with knife. Badass.
Ken Foree as Peter – Dawn of the Dead
Blows away loads of zombies, evil zombie kids. Owns the mall. Does his best buddy a solid. Zombie apocalypse survivor. Badass.
Woody Strode as Draba – Spartacus
Kicks the ass of the future slave rebellion leader. Shows him mercy. Defies class system through ultimate sacrifice, igniting spark in future slave rebellion leader. Ripped as hell. Badass.
Tina Turner as Aunty Entity – Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome
Redesigns future legal system to include chainsaws for civil disputes. Badass.
Denzel Washington and the entire cast of the 54th Massachusetts Volunteers – Glory
Charge on Fort Wagner – ’nuff said. Badasses, one and all.
Fred Williamson, Jim Kelly, Jim Brown – Three the Hard Way
This hat trick defies description. Badassery abounds.
Eugene Clark as Big Daddy – Land of the Dead
Is technically dead with rotting brain, yet still figures out how to use machine gun. Leads revolution, destabilizes class system. Badass.
Pam Grier as Coffy – Coffy
Destroys mob, drug pushers, corruption. Blows drug dealer’s head off with shotgun: “This is the end of your rotten life, you: motherf#%kin’ dope pusher!” Badass.
Julius Carry as Sho’nuff – The Last Dragon
Sits wherever he wants in a movie theater. Glows in the dark. Badass.
Angela Bassett as Mace – Strange Days
Repeatedly saves incompetent hero. Beats the piss from corrupt cops. Badass.
Keith David as Frank – They Live
Brawls for absurdly interminable length of time with Rowdy Roddy Piper over sunglasses. Uncovers shocking societal truth, immediately enlists in suicide mission. Badass.
Rudy Ray Moore as Dolemite – Dolemite
Kicks at stuntman’s head, misses, and STILL knocks him out cold (presumably by the intense air pressure generated by foot) . Beds every woman in the movie, gets no STDs. Not the smartest idea in the world… but Badass.
Dennis Haysbert as Pedro Cerrano – Major League
Sees hat for bat, takes hat for bat. Keeps live snake in locker. Deadly lumber. Later elected President of the United States of America. Badass.
Charles S. Dutton as Dillon – Alien 3
Gives one of cinema’s greatest motivational speeches ever. Bare-knuckle boxes alien. While being torn to pieces by xenomorph, asks it: “Is that all you got?” SuperBadass.
Leave your own suggestions!
Arcade Fire – Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains), from the Album “The Suburbs”
By Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
This is a video edit I made of the Arcade Fire’s Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains), from their album “The Suburbs.”
I came home from work late last night, caught a new episode of Mad Men at midnight, then stayed up til morning making this. I don’t know what it is about that show that gets me going. The whole things took about nine hours from start to upload, plus a little nap.
A youtube user named StocktoSong loves this album too – StocktoSong also made an Arcade Fire video from the original 1957 Suburba Prelinger footage. It’s interesting to compare and contrast how we both used the footage. We are reworking digitally something edited by hand half a century ago.
The original ephemeral film:
1957’s “In the Suburbs” is a thoughtfully made advertising sales promo film extolling 1950s suburbanites as citizens and consumers. It was produced by On Film, Inc., and sponsored by Redbook Magazine. It can be viewed at http://www.archive.org/details/IntheSub1957
Visit Arcade Fire
“Galloping Gertie” – Student Film, Bunker Hill Community College 2008, from Skiffleboom.com
Galloping Gertie, 2008
Written and directed by Michael McVey
Bunker Hill Community College 2008 – Elements of Video Production
In 2008, I decided to go back to school and learn filmmaking. I enrolled in video and audio production courses at Bunker Hill Community College, Charlestown, MA. Galloping Gertie was my first video, made for a class called Elements of Video Production. It was an intro course for video basics like 3-point lighting and depth of field. It was a good class, thanks to the learned Professor Pastel and his classic film references. For our final projects, Pastel divided the class into small groups. I was elected our group’s writer/director, and I mustered up a quick little story that used our group as actors and our school as our location.
I’ve included the original storyboards below: I wrote the script on cocktail napkins at a Cambridge, MA music bar called Toad during a friend’s shows. I wrote parts with specific people in mind – with my group members as lead actors, I cast my audio production Professor Palermo, as the Evil Professor.
The shooting day came, but most of the cast and crew didn’t show up for the shoot… so I recast on the spot. With a leading actor vanished from the group, the role of the Agent went to Bunker Hill’s resident AV squad leader, Marcelo Almeida. Professor Palermo was a no-show, and I ended up filling in. If you look at the storyboards, you’ll see the difference, as I drew that role for a big Sydney Greenstreet type.
We shot the whole thing at Bunker Hill over a couple of days in late Fall 2008. We shot on a Canon Elura 85 MiniDV Camcorder and edited it in Final Cut Pro. It didn’t cost a thing, and it was a lot of fun to make — I really had a great time making this goofy little project, and really enjoyed the process, even if the final result is ridiculous.
When comparing the film against the storyboards, you may notice that the fight scene was originally set in a bathroom. Why you ask?
Apparently, we weren’t allowed to film Marcelo on BHCC campus bathrooms. He had landed in some hot water with the campus security earlier in the year. He was working on his own video project – a “re-imagining” of the Casino Royale Trailer. Marcelo brought a toy gun to school to recreate a James Bond bathroom fight. When security walked in on 007 filming fights in school bathrooms, they were not pleased. They confiscated the toy gun, but let him keep the tuxedo. Now that I think about it, that’s probably what caused his lutropublicaphobia.
And it was for these reasons we had to move the bathroom fight scene to a computer lab. We kept computer genius Stephan Brooks’ cameo as “That Guy Who Was Made Uncomfortable,” but it wasn’t nearly as awkward as it should have been. The lesson: stay fluid, especially with comedy.
“The Birth of a Nation” – Racism in Early American Film, from Skiffleboom.com
History of the Moving Image- VMA 115
Bunker Hill Community College, Charlestown, MA
The Birth of a Nation Response – February 25, 2010
The Birth of a Nation:
Describe a scene you find disturbing. What specifically makes it disturbing? Think in terms not only of the characters, but also of the specific shot sequence and the relationship the image creates.
The election sequence from “The Birth of a Nation” is an incendiary account of shifting social and political power during Southern Reconstruction. The sequence narrowly characterizes class and race relationships with broad stereotypes. Griffith portrays historical events with one-dimensional characters. These characters disturbingly polarize the conflict’s complexities into simple good and evil. We begin with the title card:
“Election day. All blacks are given the ballot, while the leading whites are disfranchised.”
Both black and white voters line up to vote. A white man, presumably a carpetbagger, takes ballots from black voters. Black soldiers flank the man, keeping the crowd orderly. When white voters attempt to vote, they are denied. Soldiers aggressively shove these men out of line with their rifles. We cut to Dr. Cameron and his son Ben leaving their Piedmont home to vote. We cut to black and fade in on Dr. Cameron attempting to vote. He is denied and aggressively ejected. From this short scene, we infer that all Southern white voters were denied their rights from Unionists and Carpetbaggers, backed with military muscle. The use of these broad, unnamed characters and actions nurture resentment in the viewer towards the blacks. The use of these broad stereotypes is propaganda, influencing the audience to feel that blacks with power are unjust and malevolent.
“Receiving the returns. The negroes and carpetbaggers sweep the state.”
We cut to the interior of Silas Lynch’s Piedmont headquarters. Lynch is the mulatto protégé of Reconstruction authority Austin Stoneman. Lynch’s mixed-race staff rushes election results into the office. The title card declares, “Silas Lynch is elected Lieut. Governor.” Stoneman is elated when Lynch presents him with the news, and Stoneman’s daughter Elsie joins them. She is fancily dressed.
The title card reads, “Celebrating their victory in the polls.” We cut to an exterior shot of an all-black Unionist army marching through Piedmont, joyously greeted by an all-black crowd. We cut back to the interior of Lynch’s headquarters. While Austin Stoneman speaks of the election, we cut to a medium close-up of Lynch staring lustfully. We cut to a medium shot of Elsie as she sorts white paperwork. We cut back to Lynch. He covers his genitals with a black hat as he stares. We cut once more to Elsie. It is clear that the newly elected Lynch has designs on Stoneman’s daughter. Stoneman seems oblivious to this aside.
Lynch walks outside, and is immediately embraced by the all-black crowd. He is hoisted onto their shoulders and paraded about. We cut to Stoneman observing from inside, pleased with the victory. We then cut to Elsie, who stands alone in the room, looking exposed. We infer from this scene that the newly elected Lynch is a devious character. Lynch’s leering is juxtaposed against a marching army of black soldiers, eliciting fear of a black takeover of traditionally white properties. For Stoneman, the mulatto character of Lynch represents a bridge for race relations, but Griffith suggests his (and possibly all mulattos) motivations are animalistic and devious. In the wake of Lynch’s sexual intonations, Elsie’s delicacy is amplified through the lingering shot.
“’The little Colonel’ relates a series of outrages that have occurred.”
Ben Cameron sits in his home with his father and friends. A candle burns in the foreground, representing the smoldering hatred of the White southerner during Reconstruction.
The title card reads “The case was tried before a negro magistrate and the verdict rendered against the whites by the negro jury.” A crowded courtroom scene establishes the shift in power. An all-black jury and a black magistrate free a black man accused of a crime – the white victim’s family looks despondent. The camera iris focuses on the magistrate, yelling fervently. The ‘not guilty’ verdict polarizes the courtroom. The whites and the ‘faithful’ blacks are outraged by the verdict. The black defendant shakes hands with the jury. The scene exudes collusion and injustice.
We cut back to the Ben Cameron relating the story. We cut to the exterior of the courthouse, where black soldiers treat the white victim’s family with hostility. We cut to a shot of soldiers brutalizing an old man. These black soldiers are clearly villainous.
The title card reads, “Even while he talks, their own faithful family servant is punished for not voting with the Union League and Carpetbaggers.” The “faithful” family servant’s only discernable characteristic is his steadfast loyalty to the Cameron’s. Having voted against the Unionists, two deceitfully friendly blacks lure the servant to the woods. Several black soldiers ambush the servant. The soldiers bind him to a tree and lash him for his faithfulness. We fade out.
We cut to the servant’s quarters, where an elderly black man searches for his friend. When the elderly man stumbles upon the black soldiers beating the servant, he intervenes. A soldier murders the old man in cold blood. The soldiers all run away in cowardice. We cut back to Ben Cameron relating his stories. We see clearly from these cuts that Griffith is employing parallel editing. The iris closes in on Cameron, who dramatically stands, as though he has reached his breaking point. The camera cuts to the servant, beaten and bewildered, he runs from frame. We cut back to the Cameron’s. The stories deeply move the group, and they stand together, unified by their disgust.
The title card reads, “The faithful soul enlists Dr. Cameron’s sympathy.” We cut to Dr. Cameron, Ben’s father finding the servant in the woods. We cut back to the Cameron home. The servant relays the events to Ben Cameron, who looks furious. The candles blaze in the foreground.
These scenes shockingly suggest that blacks are incapable of dispensing justice properly. The black magistrate, while only briefly portrayed, comes across as a zealot. All the black Union soldiers are portrayed as cowardly, vicious torturers. We infer that blacks are duplicitous from the way the servant was lured into an ambush. Though Griffith doesn’t cast the servant under the same evil light as the other blacks, his is still one-dimensional. His defining characteristic seems to be an acceptance of his place in the old Southern hierarchy.
Perhaps the most disturbing element of this sequence is the technical craftsmanship. The innovative use of symbols to create subtext makes the film potent propaganda. Carefully staged scenes, clever set and costume design, and innovative editing techniques made the film’s simplistic views entertaining and digestible. “The Birth of a Nation” was a new form of entertainment propaganda in 1915. This is exceptionally disturbing, considering that these are not the film’s most cartoonish and unbelievably racist stereotypes. That award goes to the scene that caps the election sequences:
“The riot in the Master’s Hall. The negro party in control in the State House of Representatives, 101 blacks against 23 whites, session of 1871. An Historical Facsimile of the State House of Representatives of South Carolina as is was in 1870. After photograph by ‘The Columbia State.’”
Documentary Film and Fictional Technique from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
April 22, 2010 – Bunker Hill Community College
VMA 115 – History of the Moving Image – Professor Pastel
Writing Assignment #3 – Documentary
In a 2-3-page paper, address the following questions:
Use several specific examples from two of the following films to answer the questions below: Nanook of the North, Triumph of the Will, The Plow That Broke the Plains, Salesman, Don’t Look Back, High School, Our Daily Bread, Roger and Me:
1. Explain how a documentary film can use fictional techniques, yet claim to represent ‘reality.’
2. Identify some of those fictional techniques, using specific sequences from the film(s). That is, describe a particular sequence from a movie and explain how it uses fictional techniques to make its point.
3. Explain how a documentary film is different from a fictional narrative – i.e., why should we trust what that what it shows is “true” to reality as opposed to being merely “made up?”
The documentary form has existed since the birth of the motion picture camera. The Lumière brothers’ early footage was captured on location using real people. Their early film La Place des Cordeliers à Lyon captured an unstaged street scene, and can be considered one of the first documentaries. Over the past century, attempts to document reality have changed radically. Advances in technology and technique have resulted in a variety of documentary styles, calling into question the definition of the word “documentary.”
Documentary films often employ fictional techniques. Manipulative editing, staged shots, manipulated audio, scripted narration, overlaid graphics and music – many of these techniques can be found in documentaries. How can fictional techniques be used in a documentary engaged with reality and truth?
Capturing reality is the conceit of documentary film. Since reality can never be truly replicated by film (or any medium), the term documentary can apply to approximations of reality. Both fictional and documentary films employ “lies” in order to tell “truth.” Raw footage and audio is edited into a watchable length, with emphasis on dramatic structure. Since people edit the footage, the editing choices have authors and points of view. So if a documentary cannot be reality, it certainly can represent reality. It can be representative of the filmmakers’ perspective.
Our Daily Bread presents reality with a distinct perspective. Shots of workers eating lunch punctuate a sequence of pigs being slaughtered, gutted, and cleaned. The filmmakers carefully chose this juxtaposition as a dramatic device. The viewer is given the imagery to contemplate. While the presentation of the imagery is crafted, the imagery itself captures actual events.
Nanook of the North contains many staged events. Robert J. Flaherty accentuated the Inuit lifestyle’s romance and danger and presented in it as documentary. Staged events are a staple of narrative film. It was reported that Nanook was not the subject’s real name. Nyla was not Nanook’s real wife. Events were photographed with direction from Flaherty: Nanook was instructed to use traditional Intuit hunting weapons, as opposed to guns. His igloo was clearly constructed to accommodate film equipment. The filmmaker’s intended to accurately portray a vanishing lifestyle. But unwieldy technology and a hostile environment forced planning and staging. Many critics feel these staged scenes, presented as truth, disqualify the film from true documentary status.
Michael Moore’s Roger and Me unapologetically borrows many fictional techniques. Scripted voice over, the juxtaposition of soundtrack music over imagery, the inclusion of overlapping audio – these are just a few elements Moore borrows from narrative film. Yet the film is curiously considered a documentary over Nanook of the North. This can be attributed to the inclusion of Moore within his own film. Moore is very much a part of the story. Because of this, scenes that may otherwise appear staged are not; the stager is a part of the scene he is staging. Nanook’s Flaherty and the filmmakers hid their presence. As a result, their footage can be considered misleading.
Roger and Me follows a three-act structure, which is commonly found in fictional narrative. During the climactic speech by Roger Smith, the film cuts between footage of Sheriff Fred Ross evicting a family on Christmas Eve. Used to illustrate hypocrisy, this ironic intercutting leads the viewer to believe these events happen simultaneously. Narrative film often stitches together shots taken at two different times. In The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, Sam and Frodo rest on their journey to Mordor. This scene contains a two-shot of the characters talking. The shots were taken two years apart from each other, but are edited together seamlessly. Both documentary and narrative film can structure time and continuity, regardless of reality.
The Maysles Brothers’ Salesman is a documentary in the style of direct cinema. The film contains no omniscient narrator, but contains a scene in which Paul’s monologue is used as narration. Paul drives through Miami, talking about his fellow salesmen, while the scene cuts to each of the men he describes. This editing clarifies and describes each of these men from Paul’s point of view. This technique borrows from fictional narrative while sustaining its “truth,” or exclusive use of shot footage.
Earlier documentaries, such as The Plow That Broke the Plains, use narrators to tell their stories. Narrated documentaries can be accepted as “true,” as they deal with facts and true events. But such films contain staged footage, and while their content may be taken from actuality, the film itself is not true. It is illusion that deals in truth.
Salesman contains a flashback device: Paul sits on a train, heading back from a sales conference. The film overlaps audio, cutting to the actual sales event. This flashback is fictional narrative a device. It also reveals the filmmaker’s intention to present reality subjectively. There is no way to know what Paul was thinking about during that moment. But the filmmakers suggest he thought about his conference. They use images of Paul to smoothly transition through time. The filmmakers suggest that Paul probably thought back on the conference during his trip home. Since the assertion seems likely, the many viewers may accept this editing manipulation. Some viewers adhere to strict definitions, such as cinéma vérité purists, and do not consider this technique valid when portraying “reality.”
In Salesman, the Maysles Brothers goal is to represent reality truthfully. The film is shot as objectively as possible. The brothers acknowledge that the camera’s presence affects behavior, but they keep interference to a minimum, photographing subjects just as they are. In editing, the presentation of their material is highly crafted. The Maysles and Charlotte Zwerin elected Paul’s salesman character as the film’s through-line. Focusing on Paul gave the movie conflict – his failure to sell reveals his humanity, and sets him apart from the others.
Reality is filtered by the filmmakers’ involvement. The documentary film cannot capture objective reality, but it can represent the subjective reality of the filmmakers. The Maysles Brothers do not equate truth with rigid accuracy in their films. There are frequent breaks from actuality in The Plow That Broke the Plains. The film was designed as propaganda, and does not capture objective reality. It portrays actual events and issues through the filmmakers’ subjective crafting. The audience determines the truthfulness of the film.
When viewing documentaries, audiences should not accept that what they see as entirely true. Documentaries deal with the topic of truth and reality, but they themselves cannot be objective. Footage can be staged. Audio can be dubbed. Time and space can be manipulated and presented as truth. It is critical for viewers to gain awareness of documentary technique while absorbing content. Without this awareness, viewers may be easily manipulated.
This is a major difference between fictional narrative and documentary: Fictional narrative does not claim to be true. It is deliberately manipulative, which is part of the unspoken agreement between audiences and filmmakers. Most sane people watch fictional works with the knowledge that they are not real. There is vast diversity among documentary styles, but documentary generally attempts to portray real life events in a dramatic context. Documentary can strive for objectivity in presenting truth and reality, but is ultimately subjective, like narrative film.
Mise-en-scène, Montage, and the Unique Language of Film
by Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
Mise-en-scène refers to the visual design of a film. A narrative film’s visual elements can include lighting, set décor, costume design, props, blocking, spatial relationships, scene composition—Mise-en-scène is how these visual elements work together to tell the story. Every visual element designed for narrative film is considered mise-en-scène. Even non-narrative films, such as documentaries, can be said to have a certain degree of mise-en-scène. This arrangement and design expresses aspects of the characters, themes, and story that are necessarily in dialogue.
Consider the “Night Visitor” scene of Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. The character Cesare has entered the bedroom of Jane Olsen. The mise-en-scène of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is not realistic at all – it reflects the state of mind of the storyteller, Francis. As Francis relates the story, the mise-en-scène accents the emotional subtext. Cesare is a dark and threatening character. He lurks in the shadows, his features obscured in darkness. Obfuscation reflects Cesare’s inhumanity–he has no free will or personality of his own. He is a dark figure carrying out evil deeds at his master’s behest.
Jane lays asleep in her bed. White pillows and lace coddle her. This décor suggests a virginal and vulnerable character, unaware of impending danger. This image directly conflicts with the threatening Cesare. He emerges from the shadows towards her. The set design behind Cesare is sharp and angular. There are several dagger-like shapes jutting overhead. Cesare walks underneath these sinister shapes, implying his murderous intentions. The actor’s blocking (or pre-ordained path) to Jane continues underneath the dagger-shapes, shapes which aim at the defenseless Jane.
The abstract set design of this scene illustrates the inner-workings of not only Jane and Cesare, but of Francis. Given the larger context of the story, these threatening and off-kilter images reveal Francis’ hidden desires relative to the story he tells.
The hostile décor services the scene’s twist: The audience dreads that Jane will be murdered, an assumption derived from visual clues. But as Cesare is dumbstruck by Jane’s beauty. Jane is spared, despite momentum built from visual evidence to the contrary. In this case, the mise-en-scène serves both character and plot. Conflict is what creates tension and interest in the scene. Conflicting imagery and subverted expectations are rooted in the mise-en-scène.
The early silent classics are rife with groundbreaking examples. In the 1922 German Expressionist film Nosferatu by F. W. Murnau, Count Orlok approaches the character of Thomas Hutter late at night. The scene is filled with a sense of dread. The room is dark – the lighting on Hutter is minimal and sharp, drawing long, unsettling shadows. A clock on the wall sounds. The clock itself features a skeleton, a symbolic representation of death. It casts a strong shadow on the wall. A fearful Hutter moves towards the door. The light source is low and strong, again casting stark shadows on decrepit walls. The room is almost a tomb – it gives the sense of impending death. And like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, there is dagger-like imagery in one shot. The long, pointed door hinge of Hutter’s room is aimed directly at his heart.
The terrified Hutter opens the door, revealing Count Orlok, standing alone in darkness. His morbid wardrobe, sinister makeup, and shadow make an ominous creature. The wide shot dissolves into a medium close-up, which further accentuates the Count’s hideous appearance. This mise-en-scène strongly suggests Orlok’s evil intentions. Hutter is unable to escape. The coffin-shaped door swings open, implying supernatural elements at hand. There is nothing but darkness on the other side. In lingering on this darkness, Murnau emphasizes Hutter’s dread. When Orlok enters the room, he is eerily backlit. From Hutter’s point of view, he is framed within the doorway. Orlok looks like a corpse in a coffin. This imagery further underscores the feeling of impending death.
The mise-en-scène from these scenes imply impending doom. But visual design can be used to accent any emotional kind of subtext. Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon contains fines examples of mise-en-scène reflecting the inner states of a character. The character of the Woodcutter experiences guilt over a murder he witnessed. The Woodcutter paces back and forth during the final act of the film. Torrential rains reflect his inner turmoil–both the storm and his heart are raging. The burnt ruins of a temple serve as shelter, but the ruins also imply a sense of moral corrosion or destruction accompanying his guilt and shame. He is dressed in the humble attire of a Woodcutter, but the ragged costume may also imply his character, or even his conscience. Mise-en-scène is essential in creating films with depth beyond the narrative.
Russian filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein was one of the world’s earliest film theorists — his ideas and opinions have influenced generations of filmmakers and critics. Eisenstein believed montage to be the essence of filmmaking. Eisenstein wrote extensively on montage, including the books The Film Sense, and Film Form: Essays in Film Theory. Film Form contains the essay ‘A Dialectical Approach to Film Form,’ in which Eisenstein outlines his approach to the film montage.
In the essay, Eisenstein defines conflict as an inherent characteristic of art. For Eisenstein, art’s social mission and nature is strongly defined by conflict, or dynamic tension, within the art. It is through this Dynamism that new ideas are formed. According to Eisenstein, true art contains multiple ideas, ideas that exist in opposition to one another. The inherent value of the work comes from the clash of these ideas. The collision of two existing ideas yields a third, new idea. This is not unlike the nuclear fusion of atoms to create new elements.
Eisenstein applied this concept of Dynamism to film theory. Montage is a form of Dynamism wherein two or more independent shots are juxtaposed to create a new idea that did not previously exist. This new idea or feeling is born out of conflict, and is independent of its constituents. Viewers would be able to bridge seemingly disparate shots with logic of their own creation.
In this way, filmic storytelling largely depends on the viewer synthesizing ideas from what is presented. The filmmakers direct the viewers’ synthesis by controlling the constituent shots. Interestingly, the viewing experience differs from person to person — it can be argued that no two individuals ever see the same film. But skilled filmmakers can carefully direct this Dynamism through the mise-en-scene and editing process, strongly influencing viewer synthesis.
Eisenstein defined five distinct methods of montage. They are metric, rhythmic, tonal, overtonal, and intellectual montage. Metric montage is the editing of separate shots based on their duration. In this style of montage, the number of frames in each edit is consistent and independent of content. In rhythmic montage, shots are edited together with both duration and content in mind. This is a more complex form of montage, and incorporates both visual and auditory content to create dynamism. Tonal/overtonal montage is even more complex, incorporating emotionality of the content to create new meaning. Intellectual montage is the fusion of shots to create abstract or intellectual meaning from sound and imagery.
In Akira Kurosawa’s film Rashomon, metric montage is used during the Woodcutter’s walk through the forest. The successive shots of the sun through the trees, the close-up of his ax, the frontal tracking shot, dolly shot, and tilt are all relatively similar in duration. Furthermore, these shots are set to a bolero score, which makes the cadence of each cut measurable.
The later clairvoyant sequence illustrates rhythmic montage. During the transition to this sequence, the film cuts from the Woodcutter relating the story to quick shot of a fallen icon, soaked by torrential rains. The shot cuts to a close-up of the icon, and then quickly cuts to the metallic rattling of a ceremonial staff. The shot quickly cuts to the clairvoyant shaking the staff, and tracks her for a few seconds before cutting to a wide overhead shot. This final shot holds for a few moments, establishing the new setup. Each shot varies in length, but serve to bridge both time and space using impactful imagery.
The use of symbols in this sequence, such as the icon and staff, prepare the viewer for the supernatural elements to come. This association of iconography with the supernatural story elements can be considered intellectual montage – the viewer can extrapolate the source of the mystic’s power from the juxtaposition of ancient religious iconography.
The sequence also functions as tonal montage. The content of the shots suggest a dark, mystical mood. The forces of nature (torrential rains), the religious icon, and the soundtrack’s ceremonial drum chants, when juxtaposed, create a sense of otherworldliness. This tone helps the viewer accept the fantastic notion of a clairvoyant channeling the dead, moving the story forward. When viewers bridge these conflicting images and sounds, they infer logical conclusions for the clairvoyant’s abilities.
The Uniqueness of Film
The moving image has radically changed the art landscape of the 20th and 21st centuries. Up to the invention of the motion picture, synthesis of imagery and sound existed in theater, dance, and other performance art. But the introduction of film expanded the realm of art in all directions.
Film can be visceral (Halloween), or it can be intellectual (The Seventh Seal). Film can be lyrical (Days of Heaven), or it can be crass (Old School). Film, like literature, can relate a narrative in real time (Nick of Time), or it can span millennia (2001: A Space Odyssey). Film structure can create and play with both space and time in interesting ways – Koyaanisqatsi used various time-lapse techniques juxtaposed with music, resulting in a film that presents an unusual perspective on the world.
Film can use symbols to communicate subtext. Unlike the symbolism in literature, film symbolism has direct visual impact. The burnt out landscape of Rashomon adds extra layers of meaning to the film’s narrative. The visual destruction emphasizes thematic elements and heightens emotion. Rain can be used as a symbol, in Rashomon, perhaps as an emotional storm. In this respect, film symbolism is like painting. Visual stimulus can be frantic and surreal, like the seizure-inducing finale of Man with a Movie Camera. But film can also utilize sound to convey symbolism – In Citizen Kane; the sound of a screaming woman underscores a shot of a character. The scream represents the unspoken internal emotions of the character. The use of sound as symbol often accompanies visual cues. The combination of both visual and audio symbolism, when used expertly, can have great dramatic or comedic impact.
Citizen Kane uses a non-linear structure to tell the tale of a publishing tycoon’s life and death. The editing transports the viewer through time, correlating events from different eras with the emotional life of the protagonist. We are able to see long-term consequences juxtaposed with their causes, regardless of how much time separates them. A newsreel montage is used in the film to describe Kane’s public life. Citizen Kane utilizes a wide variety of media techniques to reveal plot and character. The use of radio-styled voice acting following the newsreel montage illustrates this point. Editing unites these multiple styles into one coherent piece, furthering film’s ability to communicate, advancing the art of storytelling.
Technology has given us the ability to more or less capture live events on film or video. The documentary format can capture objective reality and present it subjectively. Man with the Movie Camera is one such film; it presents objective reality in a subjective context. When using the technique of montage, objectively captured footage can be used to create tone, rhythm, and meaning. The editing of successive images creates a sense of surrealism in the film. There are several techniques used, such as double exposure and reflected imagery. These amplify the movie’s surrealist tone.
Documentaries can attempt more objectivity. Relatively recent documentaries, such as Crisis or High School attempt to accurately capture reality. These 1960’s films have no omniscient narrator. This gives them greater sense of impartiality. The conflicts presented still comment on the human condition, but are captured with minimal fabrication. The true fabrication occurs in editing.
Regardless of how impartial the filmmakers try to be, they are still manipulating the actual events for the viewer. In this way, real life can be viewed through different prisms. The documentary Salesman presents four individuals through the prism of the filmmakers. Reality may have been very different for the each salesman, but the film presents each of the narratives with deliberation. The film gives each of the salesmen an arch, which is subjective. Through careful editing, these real-life characters become symbols, character studies that speak to their time and place.
Each of these filmmaking techniques advances storytelling and expression. Film has the unique ability to combine multiple techniques and methods within a single piece. That is something most other media cannot accomplish. A painting has no soundtrack, nor does a book. A symphony doesn’t present us with a visual image of a mountain range. Ballet dancers cannot freeze in midair, a theater cannot give us one man magically playing eight instruments at once. But the moving image has the amazing ability to incorporate and recombine techniques from across the landscape of art.
Early Contributors to the Language of Film
Thomas Edison. American inventor Thomas Edison shares credit with W.K.L. Dickson for development of the earliest motion picture camera, Kintographthe. Edison also patented the Kinetoscope, (a peep-hole viewer), which served as an early form of presentation and distribution for short film. Edison Studios financed and produced hundreds of short films. Though Edison was not a filmmaker, he was the employer of the earliest American filmmakers, and is the earliest archetype for the studio systems.
The Lumière Brothers. French brothers Auguste and Louis Lumière were filmmaking pioneers and technological innovators of film projection and film cameras. They are closely associated with the invention of the Cinematograph, one of the earliest film cameras – a camera that also projected the film. The brothers implemented perforating film to advance it through camera and projector. They also developed early color photography. The Lumière brothers favored location shooting and capturing live events in real settings – it could be said that they created the world’s earliest documentary footage.
The Lumière brothers first film was titled “La Sortie de l’Usine Lumière à Lyon,” which depicted real workers leaving Lumière family factory. This super short is considered the first filmic motion picture ever made (clocking in at a brief 46 seconds).
George Méiliès. French magician and filmmaker George Méiliès pioneered the use of special effects in film, as well as developed many early narrative techniques. His vaudevillian approach to cinema is termed the “Cinema of Attraction.” His use of multiple exposures, editing, dissolves, and manipulation of time in film received sensational responses from the public. His subject matter was often fantastic, such as 1902’s “Le voyage dans la Lune,” which depicted a spaceship hitting the moon in the eye. In “L’homme Orchestra,” Méiliès used multiple exposures to create the illusion he was playing seven different instruments at once. He may have been the first filmmaker to link independent shots together to further the story.
Edwin S. Porter. An American filmmaker who worked out of Patterson, NJ, Edwin S. Porter was an early pioneer of American cinematic technique. Porter was in the most famous cinematic pioneer from Edison Studios during the early Twentieth century. He developed many cinematic techniques for narrative film, including the linking of several shots to develop story, similar to Méiliès. Porter explored abstract concepts in his films, such as states of mind. In 1903’s “The Life of an American Fireman,” Porter used a double exposure to create a dream within the film. In 1906’s “The Dream of a Rarebit Fiend,” Porter used multiple exposures to create a state of drunkenness. Porter also developed the dissolve as a cinematic transition. He pioneered continuity editing in his films, which incorporated both indoor and outdoor shots into one seamless story. Porter developed the editorial technique of cross-cutting; showing simultaneous events in different locations. While not utilized in 1903’s “The Life of an American Fireman,” crosscutting was used in his most famous work, “The Great Train Robbery,” also shot in 1903.
D.W. Griffith. American film pioneer D.W. Griffith was most remembered for creating the first feature length motion picture, 1915’s “The Birth of a Nation.” Griffith worked on shorter films several years prior to this, and developed much of the cinematic language still used today. In 1911’s “The Lonedale Operator,” Griffith used close-ups with a wrench being mistaken for a gun. The insert was a cinematic technique that directed emphasis. He pioneered many uses of the frame in visual storytelling. He employed symbolism and other literary techniques in his films, used the camera iris to direct audience focus, and used a moving camera to create dynamism. He further developed the crosscut, which moved the view through cinematic time and space. Griffith differentiated cinematic acting from stage acting, eliciting more realistic performances from his actors. “The Birth of a Nation” despite being criticized for it’s racist attitudes, was a huge financial success – the first blockbuster. His follow-up film, 1916’s “Intolerance,” was an attempt to address the prejudices of “The Birth of a Nation.” Both films re-created historical events and captured spectacle, defining the costume epic as a cinematic genre.
Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
VMA 115 – History of the Moving Image
April 13, 2010 – Bunker Hill Community College
Montage and Juxtaposition in “Battleship Potemkin” – Odessa Steps Sequence, from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
VMA – 115 History of the Moving Image
Prof. Douglas Pastel, Bunker Hill Community College
Writing Assignment #2 – Montage/Juxtaposition/Sequence
Pick a short sequence of about 10 shots from Battleship Potemkin or Man With a Movie Camera and discuss in detail how it illustrates what the “camera eye” together with editing show that no other medium or human perception can see.
The Odessa Steps Sequence (47:37 – 48:02)
During “The Odessa Steps” sequence of Sergei Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin, a civilian crowd runs down the staircase from Cossack gunfire. Among them, a small boy runs down the staircase with his mother. Cossacks shoot from the steps above. In the panic, the boy is shot. He falls. His mother continues in the chaos. Bleeding, he calls out to her. The mother realizes her boy is gone. She stops and turns into the crowd. She sees her boy. He reaches out his hand, then collapses. The mother stands against the oncoming mob, her face aghast. The mob kicks and tramples the boy’s lifeless body.
This short sequence opens with a tracking shot. We dolly alongside the mother and boy as they race down the stairs. The shot begins nearly static – trimmed right to the moment the camera begins to move. This camera movement stirs fervor. The camera descends to the bottom right, keeping mother and son centered amidst the crowd. It is as though we are running alongside them. This is a very dynamic shot with strong vectors.
The vectors transition smoothly as the shot cuts to the blazing Cossack guns. The gun barrels fire to the bottom right; they serve as index vectors. The spatial geography is clear with these two cuts. The Cossack faces are obscured. This static low angle shot is anonymous and menacing. We draw a direct connection between the gunshots and the fleeing mother and son.
Matching vectors, we cut to a static medium shot of the running son and mother. The boy collapses on the stairs, splayed out center frame. His mother continues running, unaware her boy has fallen. Since the cut is juxtaposed against the gunfire, we know immediately he is shot in the back. The image is impactful within the film’s context: an innocent boy falls victim to brutal political violence.
A new cut maintains the descending vectors. We return to our original tracking shot: the camera dollies alongside the mother running down the crowded stairs. The rushing camera dolly gives us a sense of urgency. The panic overwhelms her awareness. She doesn’t realize her son is gone.
We quickly cut to a static close-up of the boy. Blood streams down his face. Blinded, he screams for his mother. This is the first shot of the sequence not adhering to the right-descending vectors. This gives this insert a jarring feel, as we cut back to the original tracking shot.
The camera dollies alongside the mother running, descending vector. She realizes her son is gone. She slows to a halt, as does the camera movement. The crowd descends around her. She turns around. We cut on the turn. This creates a natural in/out point for the next shot.
We cut to close-up of the mustachioed mother. Harbor behind her, she turns and faces camera. She looks away from escape back towards violence. The mother’s face widens horrified. She sees her son!
We cut back to the static close-up of the bloody boy. He reaches out for his mother, screaming. He collapses, dead!
We quickly cut to a close-up of the mother horrified. She raises her hands to her head! This reaction shot emphasizes the impact of the boy’s death. The cut happens quickly, but the mother’s shock amplifies the blow.
We cut to an extreme close-up of mother. Her eyes widen. She is helpless, mortified. She calls out to her son. This shot fuses his death with parental empathy. Each close-up is larger and more affecting.
We cut to a wide shot of stampeding crowd. The camera crosses the 180-degree line and flips vectors. We are jarred, uncomfortable. The hysterical crowd pours down the steps. People shove brutally, more people are shot and fall beneath stampeding feet. This cut-away emphasizes chaos surrounding the dead boy.
We cut to static close-ups of the boy’s lifeless torso. Feet step over. We cut to a second close-up of the bloodied body. A man’s foot steps directly on the hand. The hand moves reflexively! Is the boy still alive? By suggesting the boy may still be alive, these quick inserts make the scene more appalling. The terrified mob tramples his limp body.
We cut back to the mother’s horrified face. This extreme close-up delivers horrendous shock and empathy. We are given a full-frame of facial expression. Juxtaposed with the confusion of the mob and violent imagery, this close-up mirrors our own disgust at the events. We empathize with the expressive mother against the faceless, violent hoard, and unknowingly succumb to some brilliant propaganda.
This sequence demonstrates film techniques that circumvent certain limitations of human perception (sans acid). Within the context of the scene, we are able to change our point of view. Instead of perceiving an event from one specific perspective, we jump around to multiple viewpoints. We are not limited by the physicality of the camera itself. Our “camera eye” can be placed in a raging mob without being stampeded.
A film can observe details that are otherwise overlooked, or juxtapose to unrelated images or scenes to create new context. A film can bolster or downplay emotions with close-ups. Reaction shots effect and define how emotions are perceived. Human perception is limited spatially – it is difficult to observe multiple individuals with only two eyes. Film can manipulate time. In addition to changing frame rates, editing can manipulate time in a way human perception does not. As we cut back and forth between mother and son, are we watching simultaneous reactions broken into two parts? Or are we seeing the characters in real time?
Film can strongly illustrate psychological drama and the inner workings of characters. Film narrative can be reliable or unreliable, linear or fractured. With spatial and temporal restrictions lifted, filmmaking gives people new ways to tell stories as well as share experiences, emotions, and observations.
Scene Breakdown: “The Seven Samurai” – Heihachi’s Funeral, from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
Film as Art
Week 09 – Choosing Shots to Tell the Story, Assignment 9
By Michael McVey – April 22, 2010
Bunker Hill Community College – Charlestown, MA
Watch The Seven Samurai. Choose one scene and list each shot in it.
Identify what kind of camera angle was used (such as a wide shot, medium shot, close-up), any camera movements (dolly, pan, zoom, tilt), and a description of the action occurring in the scene (the movement of the actors, and so forth).
The Seven Samurai – Heihachi’s Funeral
The samurai bury Heihachi after he dies during a raid. The farmers and samurai mourn his loss. The wild Kikuchiyo galvanizes the village with Heihachi’s flag. At that moment, bandits attack that village.
Low-angle, Long shot of the hillside. Encircled by villagers, the samurai bow before Heihachi’s grave mound. The wind blows.
Low-angle, Medium long shot of samurai. This a zoomed shot at the same angle – the samurai perform the burial ritual.
Low-angle, Medium long shot of Kikuchiyo, framed left. This is an even closer view, same angle. The camera tracks Kikuchiyo as he plunges Heihachi’s sword into his grave, then sits, despondent.
Return to Low-angle, Long shot of the hillside. The samurai and farmers kneel before Heihachi’s grave mound.
Medium, Low-angle shot of Kambei and Gorōbei, with Heihachi’s sword in the foreground. The two samurai speak of Heihachi and the hard times to come.
Medium, Low-angle shot of Rikichi and the farmers kneeling at the grave. As the farmers mourn, Rikichi breaks down and hugs the dirt, crying in despair. His actions accidently lead to Heihachi’s death. The camera pans left, following Rikichi as he snaps.
Return to Low-angle, Medium long shot of Kikuchiyo, framed left. Kikuchiyo yells at Rikichi to stop crying. The camera tilts as he stands.
Low-angle, Long shot of the hillside. Kikuchiyo yells at everyone to stop crying. He runs down the hillside.
Medium long shot, panning right to left, tracking Kikuchiyo. Kikuchiyo runs through the village.
Long shot to Medium, tracking the movement of Kikuchiyo run through the village and into the samurai’s quarters. The camera pulls back as Kikuchiyo enters the building and pans left as he grabs Heihachi’s flag, then scrambles outside.
Long shot, low angle. The camera tilts up as Kikuchiyo climbs the thatched roof.
Wide shot with Samurai in the foreground, and Kikuchiyo on the roof in the distance. Kikuchiyo plants the flag in the thatched roof. The samurai see the flag and turn towards it.
Close-up on Heihachi’s flag. The flag stands tall, waving in the fierce wind.
Return to Low-angle, Long shot of the hillside. The farmers and samurai all turn to the flag.
Medium shot of farmers. The male farmers jockey for position, fixing eyes on the flag.
Return to Close-up on Heihachi’s flag. The flag waves.
Medium shot of farmers. The female farmers look on, teary eyed.
Extreme close-up of flag. The camera tilts down on the flag’s symbols.
Medium close-up of farmers. Tears roll down the farmer’s cheeks. One farmer kneels in the foreground, the others stand in the background, mourning.
Return to Low-angle, Long shot of the hillside. The village stands together, staring at the flag.
Return to Extreme close-up of flag. Again, the camera tilts down on the flag’s symbols.
Medium shot of Kikuchiyo on the roof. Kikuchiyo sits, cradling himself under the flag. Something in the distance suddenly alarms him.
Wide shot of the distant hills. Bandits on horseback gallop over the horizon.
Return to Medium shot of Kikuchiyo on the roof. Kikuchiyo alertly stands and runs to the roof’s edge as the camera pans left, tracking him. He announces the bandit arrival to the village. “Goddamn! Here they come!”
A Scene from “Casablanca” – Rick Helps the Bulgarian Couple, from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
Film as Art
Week 08 Logical Storytelling, Assignment 8
By Michael McVey – April 21, 2010
Bunker Hill Community College – Charlestown, MA
Watch Casablanca. Chose a scene and identify what the hero wants. Choose one scene from the movie and describe what it is about by using Mamet’s method of analysis in one short paragraph. (What does the hero do in this scene to try and get what he wants?)
Casablanca: Rick Helps the Young Couple
About an hour into Casablanca, Rick helps a young Bulgarian couple desperate to reach America. Rick’s objective in the scene is to quietly facilitate the young couple. He needs to keep his help secret, to maintain his reputation. Rick does not want to see the newly wed Bulgarian girl forced to trade sexual favors for an exit visa. Rick sympathizes with the couple’s predicament – he does not want them to experience the pain of a compromised relationship. There are a few steps Rick takes to accomplish his objective.
Rick needs to secretly secure money for the couple’s exit visas. Rick enters the room and makes contact with the roulette dealer – a dealer who works for Rick. Rick straddles up to the young Bulgarian man. He advises the man to bet on 22. Rick needs to communicate with the dealer to fix the game. Rick repeats himself so that the dealer hears. The dealer correctly interprets Rick’s tone and look: roll a 22. The dealer rolls 22, and the man collects. Again, Rick advises the man to bet on 22. The dealer understands Rick’s unspoken orders. The man bets and wins. Rick succeeds in getting the Bulgarian couple enough money to exit Casablanca.
Rick’s second objective is to keep the whole affair quiet. Rick tells the man to cash out his chips and leave permanently. The man complies. Rick asks the dealer how they are doing? The dealer replies that they are down a couple thousand, and he winks knowingly. Since the other witnesses and participants work for Rick, the transaction remains secret. The Bulgarian woman approaches Rick and hugs him gratefully. This jeopardizes Rick’s objective of keeping his sentimental actions quiet. Rick coolly ends the hug and tells the woman her husband is “just a lucky guy.” He downplays the potentially emotional scene, keeping the whole affair quiet. Reputation intact, Rick succeeds in both helping the couple and maintaining secrecy. This scene is very efficient in handling Rick’s objectives. His goals are clear without being obvious. Rick’s true character is revealed, and the scene becomes more emotional by having characters conceal their emotions.
A Scene from Danny Boyle’s “Sunshine” – Kaneda’s Decision, from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
Film as Art
Week 07 – Planning the Mise-en-Scene, Assignment 7
Bunker Hill Community College – April 8, 2010
Watch Sunshine. Choose one scene from the movie and describe the entire mise-en-scene (everything that you can see and hear, including the actors’ movements, costumes, lighting, sound, set, camera angle, and shot-size).
Scene – Full Sunlight, Kaneda’s Decision
A powerful, low tone sounds as we open on an extremely wide aerial shot of Icarus II’s heat shield. The camera sweeps over the vast field of metallic panels. Yellow, orange, and red fires glimmer on the distant horizon. The looming sunlight slices through the darkness, racing towards our characters, Kaneda and Capa. The electronic crackle and shimmer of the heat interweave with the film’s score. An ethereal chorus sustains an ominous, almost mystical chord.
We cut to Kaneda, Captain of the Icarus II. As he stands in his unwieldy, gold-plated space suit, the camera dollies in from a low medium shot to a close-up. A critical heat shield panel closes slowly on frame left. We see the reflective glow of the approaching sunlight glisten across his helmet. Behind him, there is nothing but the cold, empty void of space. The feminine, computerized voice of Icarus updates the ship’s status: “89% of shield in full sunlight.”
We cut to an extreme close-up of Kaneda’s eyes, the interior of this helmet. His eyes absorb the approaching sunlight. The fiery horizon is reflected across the screen, refracted through his helmet’s small slot. The sunlight intensifies before him, from soft orange to a severe yellow. Kaneda’s eyes widen, his breath quickens. The electronic score sounds like a submarine buckling under the pressure; low-frequency droning underlies the soundtrack.
We cut to an extreme close-up of Capa’s gloved hand. He too dons a gold-lined protective suit. We track Capa’s hand as he installs a mechanical device inside a broken heat panel. The low-frequency soundtrack continues.
We cut to an extreme close-up of the dark interior of Capa’s helmet. His face is strained and sweating on the left of the screen. On the right are small electronic displays – one of Kaneda’s helmet interior and the one of the Icarus’ bridge. We are able to see through the helmet slot to the exterior, where Capa installs the component. Capa breathes heavily. Subtle electronic beeps and whirs complement the droning soundtrack.
We cut to a low, wide shot of the dark exterior. Kaneda is maneuvers in the zero-G over to Capa from screen right to left, and we pan slightly to follow. As Capa toils, the sunlight’s orange aura silhouettes the open heat panel. A work lamp floats in the mid-ground. Kaneda’s static radio communication to Capa punctuates the intense score: “Capa, go back. I can finish this.”
We cut back to the previous interior close-up of Capa’s helmet. Capa responds to Kaneda, and we hear his unfiltered voice echo within the cramped helmet: “Please, I can do this.”
We cut to the interior of Kaneda’s helmet. The shot is a close-up, a mirror shot of Capa’s helmet interior. Kaneda’s face holds the right of the frame. Through his helmet slot, the burning yellow glow strengthens. The in-helmet displays flicker ominously with static as Kaneda broadcasts his final order: “Go.”
We cut to an exterior medium shot. At this moment, John Murphy’s score cues a swelling adagio. Capa and Kaneda slowly pass each other in zero-G, their bulky-suited bodies parallel with the heat shield’s surface. As they pass each other, the soundtrack drops out and lets the score emotionally supplement the fateful decision.
We cut back to the previous interior close-up of Capa’s helmet. “Capa returning to airlock. Do you copy?”
We cut to a grand, sweeping aerial wide shot of the set piece. It is a stark contrast to the dark interior of Capa’s helmet. The frame is filled with the overwhelming orange and yellow glow of the sunlight. Lens flares add to the FX shot’s effectiveness and realism. The sunlight dances like a fire in the distance. The shimmering sounds of an electronic inferno rise as we push past Capa and Kaneda, who are dwarfed by the scale of Icarus’ heat shield. While Capa has covered some distance to the shield’s edge, it is insignificant compared to the distance left to travel. Unheeded by Icarus, Capa restates his question: “Capa returning to airlock. Do you copy?” The camera rotates as it flies by, keeping Capa and Kaneda center frame. As our angle changes, the background becomes the icy emptiness of space, and the sounds of the fire fade. The voice of the ship’s pilot Cassie responds: “Copy, Capa. Hurry.” The shot illustrates the enormous distances between the men, the shield’s edge, and the devastating heat approaching them. The score swells as the camera pulls back, the two men barely visible. The camera begins to shake violently, as we break into the red sunlight’s threshold. The voice of Icarus updates: “91% of shield in full sunlight.”
A Scene from “The Terminator” – Sarah Connor Watches Reese’s Interrogation Tape, from Skiffleboom.com
Film as Art – Bunker Hill Community College
Week 04 – Character and Dialogue, Assignment 4
February 25, 2010
Sarah Connor watches Kyle Reese’s interrogation tape.
Examine a scene where dialog is used and answer the questions:
1) How is character revealed through the actions they take?
On a television monitor, a tape plays: Kyle Reese sits handcuffed to a chair while Dr. Silberman questions him. The camera pans left to reveal Sarah Connor watching the tape, along with Dr. Silberman, Lieutenant Traxler, and Detective Vukovich.
Silberman sits front and center, amused by Reese’s outlandish tale. He laughs at the tape with Vukovich. Both men seem oblivious to the anxiety-wracked Sarah, who nervously chews her fingernails. Traxler gives them both a look of disgust—Silberman and Vukovich are insensitive to Sarah’s mental state.
We cut back to Reese on the monitor, explaining his circumstances. The handcuffs and questioning agitate Reese. He seethes with frustration—he is not convincing anyone with his bizarre story… except maybe Sarah. We cut to close-up of Traxler, tensely chewing gum. We cut to close-up of Sarah. She looks scared.
As Reese explains, Silberman pauses the tape. He tells everyone in the room how brilliant Reese’s elaborate story is. He clearly does not believe Reese. This inappropriate action demonstrates the Silberman’s egotism. He is too thrilled with career prospects to consider the murders, and their effect on Sarah. He resumes the tape.
Reese reaches his limit Silberman’s questioning. He realizes Silberman is not in any position to help him. Reese silences him and pleads directly to the camera. He warns about the Terminator to anyone who will listen. Officers attempt to subdue Reese. His fervor suggests he truly believes his mission is to protect Sarah. The fear in Sarah’s eyes suggests she may believe him.
The doctor stops the tape and apologizes. He realizes that he should not have exposed Sarah to Reese’s fear-inducing rant. The doctor shows a fleeting moment of responsibility. He is not a very good doctor if he is oblivious to Sarah’s nerves. Sarah asks Dr. Silberman if Reese is crazy. The doctor assures her Reese is insane. Traxler and Vukovich show Sarah some body armor. They explain the Terminator is likely a man wearing such protection. Traxler gives Sarah the armor so she can feel the weight. He is assuring. Vukovich explains how PCP may have been used to inhibit pain, but before he can tell an anecdote, Traxler gives him the armor to put away. Vukovich has clearly had a lot of experience, but Traxler is focused on nurturing Sarah back from her anxiety.
Traxler warmly suggests Sarah lie down and get some rest. He covers her with his jacket. He is protective and paternal. He assures Sarah of her safety, and she falls asleep, completely exhausted from the ordeal.
2) Are large chunks of information spilled out all at once or is it parceled out?
The information is parceled out. The time travel exposition is well handled. It feels natural—Reese responds to questioning because it is his best option to protect Sarah, given his situation. Scene is written to explain back story while revealing character. Protecting Sarah is Reese’s only concern. He tries to be convince Silberman, but his story is just too surreal for the doctor.
By framing the Reese/Silberman conversation as a pre-recorded tape on a monitor, we are able to focus on the reactions of the observing characters. We get the exposition, but we also see Sarah’s emotion state.
Traxler and Vukovich split assurance duties. The perceptive Traxler is clearly the better man for the job, as Vukovich seems insensitive. They divide up the rationalizations between them, helping calm Sarah. The Dr. Silberman’s dismissal of Reese’s story also helps Sarah relax.
3) How does the writer parcel the information? –Are the speakers saying exactly what is on their minds or are they using subtext getting at what they want to say by being indirect?
At first, Kyle Reese answers the line of questioning in an effort to win allies. When he realizes that his efforts are going nowhere, Reese screams exactly what is on his mind—Sarah is going to die unless the Terminator is stopped.
Dr. Silberman explains the intricacies of Reese’s “delusion,” but is more occupied by the possibilities of his career advancement. He sees great personal opportunity, and at one point, he refers to it as a career case.
Vukovich doesn’t say much, but it is clear he is a man of experience. His attempts at anecdotes allude to this. His insensitivity to Sarah’s emotional state is characteristic of a someone used to dealing with death and murder.
Traxler’s measured, collected manner of assuring Sarah reveals sensitivity. He is a thoughtful, empathic man who has her best interests at heart. He understands how traumatic the experience must be, and brings her a few steps closer to tranquility.
Sarah Connor is a nervous wreck. Her face and body language suggest she may believe Reese. She asks questions looking for support. The doctor and police officers assure her of her safety. She is too exhausted to process any more information. She accepts Traxler’s comforting words and falls asleep.
Storyboarding a Western Film, from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
Film as Art
Week 02 Direct Conflict, Assignment 2
February 9, 2010
“Place two characters in a scene of direct conflict. … Use dialogue as needed, and resolve the scene. Minimum length: 2-3 pages” (Hall, 12). All scripts are written in the present tense. Write what you can only see and hear. Post your assignment using EasyEdit (copy and paste from Word, but keep a back-up of your file).
For ease, just use this format:
Description of action in present tense.
Description of action
Untitled Western – by Michael McVey, Bunker Hill Community College, 2010.
“American Beauty” – Identifying the Throughline, from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
Film as Art
Week 10 – Identifying the Throughline, Assignment 10
Michael McVey – Bunker Hill Community College
April 27, 2010
Watch American Beauty. Identify the super-objective of a central character and describe this character’s throughline in detail.
American Beauty tells the story of Lester Burnham, played by Kevin Spacey. Lester is a middle-aged, unhappy suburbanite. He feels his American life is a joyless chore, and sets out to reclaim happiness. Lester’s pursuit of happiness is his super-objective.
The opening scenes establish Lester’s ennui. He has strained, distant relationships with his wife Carolyn and daughter Jane. The gay couple living next door, Jim and Jim are the only “normal” people Lester knows. Lester hates his job. At work, Lester is largely unappreciated, and is in danger of being let go by his undeserving superior Brad. Quitting this job will become one of Lester’s sub-objectives. At home, Carolyn is hypercritical and unsympathetic to Lester’s plight. She perceives him as a loser. Jane hides behind a wall of sarcasm.
Lester attends a local high school basketball game. His daughter Jane cheerleads. Lester sees Jane’s friend Angela, and is immediately smitten. Angela becomes the object of Lester’s desire, and he begins fantasizing about her.
Lester steals Angela’s number from Jane’s bedroom. He calls Angela, but hangs up immediately when Jane exits the shower. This is Lester’s first step towards his super-objective. He awkwardly attempts to contact Angela to begin a relationship – Lester associates having Angela with happiness. Sleeping with Angela becomes a critical sub-objective for Lester’s super-objective.
Later, Lester and Carolyn bicker at a party. When Carolyn flocks over to local real estate magnate Buddy King, Lester makes an awkward, honest comment. This embarrasses Carolyn, and Lester further embarrasses her with a protracted kiss in front of Buddy. Lester starts to cut loose a bit, taking another step towards his super-objective.
Lester’s young neighbor Ricky approaches him at the bar. Ricky and Lester retire outside for some recreational smoking. Lester enjoys himself and makes a connection with Ricky. He admires Ricky’s self-control and perceived freedom. Lester begins defining his super-objective based on some of Ricky’s qualities.
Jane brings Angela over to her house. Aware that Lester is fixated, Angela decides to flirt with him. Lester quickly falls into a semi-erotic fantasy. Later, Lester overhears Angela talking about him with Jane. She playfully teases Jane about her dad’s fixation. Lester hears Angela mention that he would be sexy if he worked out. Later, Lester goes into the garage, finds some weights, and works out in the buff. He is clearly motivated to get fit. Lester equates his fitness with Angela’s attraction. Fitness becomes a sub-objective, as it may result in attracting Angela, culminating with Lester’s super-objective.
Carolyn catches Lester masturbating during a nighttime fantasy. Lester defends his right to masturbate, as his wife does not service him. They argue about their mutual sexual frustration, and Carolyn brings up divorce. Lester quickly turns the tables on her, ending the argument. Lester seizes control from Carolyn and does not back down from her criticisms. This fosters the self-control needed for Lester to achieve his super-objective.
Lester starts running with Jim and Jim. He goes over to Ricky’s to buy weed. Getting high is a new sub-objective for Lester – it helps him to relax and enjoy life. Lester fondly recalls his youth to Ricky: flipping burgers, partying and having sex. Later, Lester smokes a joint in the garage while lifting weights. When Carolyn confronts him on his new social deviance, he retorts, telling her to leave. Lester’s exercise, habitual pot use, and devil-may-care attitude reflect his efforts pursuit of happiness (through irresponsibility).
Lester writes a sarcastic and biting performance review. Brad tries to fire Lester, but Lester counters by threatening blackmail and sexual harassment. Lester refuses to be a victim, turning the tables on his thankless employers. Lester gets a year’s salary as a severance package, and triumphantly leaves. Lester separates himself from the working rabble, gaining a degree of freedom.
Later in the evening, Lester eats dinner with his wife and daughter. Lester and Carolyn bicker, and Jane is forced to listen. When Jane tries to leave, Lester exerts authority, and Jane sits back down. Carolyn rants hysterically, refusing to quit. Again Lester exerts himself, smashing a plate against the wall. This silences Carolyn. Much of Lester’s earlier misery stemmed from his passivity. In this scene, Lester works on the sub-objective of reclaiming his familial authority. Lester exhibits more self-control, and he moves towards his super-objective.
Lester enjoys the spoils of his severance by purchasing a 1970 Pontiac Firebird. He also buys several toys. When Carolyn berates Lester yet again, Lester defuses her through compliments. He makes a move on her, and we sense a happier past. But before he can round second base, Carolyn breaks the mood, afraid Lester might spill beer on the couch. Lester cannot overcome the sub-objective of salvaging his family life. His wife’s obsession with material objects and appearances hurts their relationship. He gets angry with her material worship and chases her away. Despite acquiring material objects for himself, Lester is not happy.
We flash forward to Lester running through the neighborhood. He looks much happier and healthier. While Lester makes a health shake in his kitchen, he learns Angela will be sleeping over. Jane is embarrassed by her father’s obvious attraction to Angela, and shares her disgust. Lester calls his daughter a bitch, just like her mother. This hurts Jane, and she leaves. Lester still struggles with the sub-objective of normalizing his family relationships, which prevent him from obtaining his super-objective.
Later, Lester catches Carolyn having an affair with Buddy King. At the drive-thru Burger joint Lester works, Lester surprises the cheating couple. Carolyn sees Lester has been working a menial job, but Lester finds the work invigorating; there is little responsibility. Lester calmly dismisses Carolyn and Buddy. By cheating on Lester, she has relinquishes any authority over him. From his perspective, Carolyn’s transgression is liberating. Instead of feeling remorse or anger, Lester puts her affair in context of his super-objective. Not able to resolve his sub-objective with Carolyn, Lester is inadvertently given the liberation he needs to continue towards independence and self-control.
After Lester buys more pot from Ricky, Angela and Jane run into him in the kitchen. Angela flirts with Lester. Repulsed, Jane runs from the room. Lester flirts back, but Angela is clearly nervous, and goes to find Jane. Lester’s object of desire, seemingly the key to his super-objective, runs away from him.
Later, while working out in the garage, Lester is confronted by Ricky’s father, Colonel Fitts. The Colonel has mistakenly confused the relationship between his son and Lester. Thinking Lester is a homosexual, the repressed Colonel Fitts kisses Lester. Stunned, Lester gently rebuffs his advances. Overwhelmed, the Colonel stumbles into the rainy night. Lester’s calmly handles the awkward situation, suggesting comfort in his own skin. This grace suggests Lester is ever closer to realizing his super-objective.
Lester goes for a beer in the kitchen, and encounters Angela, sitting alone. She tells him about her fight with Jane, revealing to Lester that she thinks him sexy. Lester and Angela get intimate, and they begin kissing. Lester is within moments of having Angela, the catalyst of his super-objective. Lester takes off her clothes, and as they are about to make love, Angela tells Lester she is a virgin. At first he think she is joking, but he quickly realizes that Angela is sincere. In that moment, Angela stops becoming a fantasy and becomes a person to Lester. He covers her with a blanket and comforts her. In this moment, Lester embraces responsibility.
Throughout the film, Lester sheds the coils of societal expectation. Irresponsibility felt like the key to Lester’s super-objective of happiness. Ultimately, Lester balances out his selfish impulses with genuine care for others. He breaks through his lustful delusions to see an inexperienced, frightened teenager before him, and he gives her comfort and affection. Lester and Angela sit in the kitchen, where Angela eats. Lester asks her about Jane. Angela tells him that Jane is in love. This touches Lester. For the first time in the film, Lester is genuinely interested in his daughter. He is a father reborn. Angela asks how Lester feels. Lester replies “great.” It is this moment that Lester achieves his super-objective. He feels genuine happiness for the first time in ages.
Angela leaves the room for a moment, and Lester is murdered. His body lies on the table, a smile etched on his face. Even though the scene is bloody, there is a poetic beauty in Lester’s smile. Moments before his death, Lester discovers that honest love and affection for others is essential to happiness. Lester recovers from his journey of irresponsibility and realizes that happiness requires balance between selfishness and selflessness. His final moments are happy: Lester attains his super-objective.
Movie Review: “Five Minutes of Heaven” from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
Five Minutes of Heaven
By Michael McVey
Originally Published in the Irish Emigrant, August 31, 2009
“Trouble with me is I’ve got all the wrong feelings.” – Joe Griffin
There is a moment in Five Minutes of Heaven when the main character, Joe, is presented with a choice: He can open a door and confront his brother’s murderer – a man who waits willingly for him, three decades after committing the act. Or, Joe can exit out another door, avoiding the possibility becoming a murderer himself, but continuing to live with unbearable anger and guilt imparted to him those 30 years ago. And while the plot of the new film Five Minutes of Heaven may be driven by choices like this, the film itself is really about consequences.
The story begins in 1975 Northern Ireland. The film quickly establishes a sense of time and place by using powerful, and violent archival footage. It transitions into a fictional narrative based on a true account – the killing of Catholic teenager Jim Griffin by 16-year-old Protestant Alistair Little. The murder is made all the more shocking, as it is witnessed by Jim’s younger brother, Joe Griffin.
We cut to present day Ireland, where Griffin and Little are grown men, both en route to a television shoot. Little (Liam Neeson) spent 12 years in prison for his crime and, since his release, has been a tireless proponent of a reconciliation program, designed to help those who’ve committed violent crimes take responsibility for their past. Griffin (James Nesbitt) has since married and raised a family, but is deeply scarred by the murder. We sense his bloodlust brimming below the surface. As the TV crew plans to record the meeting, we get more than a “slight” sense that this looming confrontation may not go well.
Guy Hibbert’s script is an interesting construct – the film’s first act deals with real-life events and characters, and then proposes a fictional “what-if” scenario for the confrontation. The real life Griffin and Little have never actually met, though they gave the filmmakers their consent for this fictional narrative. Bringing an outsider’s perspective to the material, German director Oliver Hirschbiegel took particular pains not to judge the politics of the characters, while still acknowledging the complexity of the conflict. We are presented with several questions…Why do we dehumanize our enemies? How does violence affect families? Is primal instinct stronger than principle?
The filmmakers cast actors James Nesbitt and Liam Neeson against their actual backgrounds – Nesbitt was raised in the Coleraine area of Northern Ireland, and Neeson in Ballymena, County Antrim. Both actors create sincere portraits of men dealing with the consequences of violent acts. Nesbitt injects several humorous touches into his moving portrayal of the anxiety-plagued Griffin. Using voice-over, the film’s excellent sound editing weaves in and out of Nesbitt’s internal dialogue, adding extra dimensions to his performance. Neeson’s gravitas are put to good use, particularly during an interview scene (shot in one long take) that reveals deep seated guilt and uncertainty. Both lead actors create believable characterizations, steering the film away from the pitfalls of heavy-handed symbolism.
Five Minutes of Heaven is disciplined in revealing information to the viewer, and with naturalistic lighting and handheld photography, it succeeds in maintaining a realistic tension throughout. Several touches of humor add levity when needed, including a few well placed barbs at the television industry’s “sensitivity” to its subject matter. While Griffin and Little seem destined to confront each other, the outcome’s uncertainty is played for maximum effect.
The film is straightforward and dialogue heavy, but that is not a criticism. The lead performances by Nesbitt and Neeson, the intensity of the scenario, and the insight of the screenplay make for a compelling drama. Without offering any earth-shattering revelations or solutions, Five Minutes of Heaven makes convincing arguments for reconciliation, using the simplest and purest of reasons.
Movie Review: ”District 9″ from Michael McVey, Skiffleboom.com
By Michael McVey
This is why I go to the movies. Co-writer and director Neill Blomkamp’s debut film is an outstanding amalgam of documentary-style realism,thought-provoking constructs, and lots of hardcore, bloody action. Independently produced by Peter Jackson, the film delivers these elements in the guise of science fiction. And like all great sci-fi, the world of District 9 is a prism through which we see our own selves today.
The premise: 28 years ago, an alien ship arrives suddenly over Johannesburg, South Africa. Despite having advanced technology, the alien inhabitants are malnourished refuges, like worker bees without a queen. Unable to return home, they are met with open hostility from a fearful populace and segregated from human society in a crime-ridden slum called District 9…
The filmmakers make bold choices with casting, languages, locations, narrative structure – all of which succeed in creating something truly original. We feel the world the characters inhabit,just as we feel the characters plight, right up to the jaw-dropping, killer climax.
While not perfect (and definitely not for all tastes), this is an incredibly entertaining film. It features first-rate FX, liberal doses of intense action, and it has a lot on its mind – it is great in the way “Mad Max” and “Aliens” are great. This may end up being my favorite film of the year.