Saleh Bakri and Tarek Copti star in the short film Dog Days directed by Eyas Salman
The short film Dog Days (2009) opens with an aging father calling for his son as they walk up the street in Nazareth. Abu Noor hands his son his case to carry and then walks past him up the hill, complaining and cursing. When he asks if Noor has finished his homework, the young man replies that he has been finished with school for eight years.
“Really? Good! Why don’t you have a job then?” the father asks, ignoring the fact that unemployment for Arabs in Israel is high.
As the film (written by Tamer and Eyas Salman) continues to unfold, we see Noor consumed by the expectations of his father and frustrations of the life of young Palestinians in Israel. These are the Arabs who didn’t leave the country when the modern State of Israel was created in 1948.
Father and son share a lonely existence in a flat on the bottom floor of a building. Noor spends his days caring for his father and taking care of the house– doing dishes, waiting on his father, and hanging laundry diminishes his masculinity in a traditional patriarchal culture. He flirts with a neighbor woman by offering her a glass of water as she walks by. Their roles have been reversed; she is independent and heading somewhere while he is tied to house and family.
Noor’s sense of self is also erased by his obligation to care for his father. In Palestinian culture, it is still common for families to care for the elderly at home rather than putting them in nursing homes; this is partially due to economics, but it is largely cultural–family is the most valuable thing a person can have and older people are valued members of the community.
As Abu Noor’s memory weakens, his demands get worse and Noor becomes paralyzed by the constant demands. Their lives are an endless loop of the mundane. Noor hears his father’s voice in his dreams: “Come. Sit. Take. Bring. Sit. Go. Wait. Move.”
For Noor, his father becomes not only a burden, but also a reminder that his life is continually put on hold. Abu Noor tells a story about taking private music lessons in Haifa as a young man and being questioned by the military. While the military commander let him go, Abu Noor gave up music. His point is that life has always been hard for the Palestinians and that Noor’s generation isn’t suffering anything new. But, Noor hears a different message. His father was about the same age as Noor when he gave up his dreams. Noor hasn’t even allowed himself to dream, but after his father tells his story, Noor decides he must change his life even if his father pays the price.
In a few short minutes, the film shows the shifting attitudes of young Palestinians–young men and women who are seeking lives and identities of their own, lives not completely tied to family, land, and tribe.
Tarek Copti, who plays Abu Noor in the film, speaks eloquently about the importance of both identity and filmmaking for Palestinians. “…so cinema is a very important art for us as Palestinians. It’s a window we see the world through.”
Saleh Bakri says he is interested in playing roles that are character-driven rather than mechanical. He is the son of actor-director Mohammad Bakri and, like his father, has chosen projects that give dignity to the Palestinians. He describes working on projects with Israeli and Palestinian groups and being interested in the story they can tell together.
The film’s director Eyas Salman was born in Nazareth and studied filmmaking at Tel Aviv University. He has written and directed several short films and recently edited the feature film Omar, directed by Hany Abu-Assad and featured at 2013 Cannes Film Festival.
The short interview clips in the article are from the Doha Film Institute website. “In ‘Work in Progress,’ the first ever video portrait collection of iconic and emerging filmmakers and actors from the Middle East, Marian Lacombe joined her sister Brigitte Lacombe to travel the world through film.” The whole site is worth spending time on and exploring the stories of different filmmakers and actors from around the world.
Justin Bartha and Catherine Zeta-Jones in The Rebound
This week, the class is watching The Rebound, a 2009 romantic comedy starring Catherine Zeta-Jones (Sandy) and Justin Bartha (Aram). When the film was released it met with lukewarm reviews. While the two lead characters were lauded for being likable and well acted, most critics balked at the fact that the film doesn’t really explore the possibilities of the main set-up: the May-December relationship between Aram and Sandy.
While the film has a lot of predictable moments and doesn’t really make the most of either the comedic moments or the exploration of the relationship between Sandy and Aram, it avoids cheap humor at the expense of their age difference. Rather than portraying Sandy like a stereotypical “Cougar,” she is portrayed as hesitant to pursue Aram or anyone else. At first, her focus is simply on rebuilding her life and taking care of her children as they start over in the city.
Sarah Kershaw’s “Rethinking the Older Woman-Younger Man Relationship” describes the rise of the Cougar in American popular culture and talks about the reality of relationships between older women and younger men. In her article, Kershaw describes a generation of independent women who no longer seek marriage as a way of being provided for. If they seek a marriage at all, it is done from a more level playing ground where they enter a relationship with their own money, careers, and experience. Younger men find them attractive, Kershaw says, because these women have power, are attractive, have sexual experience and a liberated attitude toward sex (younger women may fear an unwanted pregnancy or being used for sex).
When comparing these relationships to the Older Man-Younger Woman relationships, there is a different dynamic. When the man is older, Kershaw’s research indicates, he is seen as a source of money and stability; he also has the potential to father children with a younger woman, whereas the older woman is often post-menopausal and children with the younger man are not usually part of the picture.
Reading Kershaw’s article, one may wonder if these women are doing as men have been doing for generations—having flings where sex is for enjoyment rather than procreation and they get an ego boost from being with a younger, energetic person who finds them attractive.
The Rebound shies away from those issues for the most part. There are the forced jokes from Aram’s friend and Sandy’s co-workers, but the pair don’t spend much time thinking or discussing the impact of their age differences. When they finally do address it during Sandy’s pregnancy complications, Sandy sends Aram on his journey of self-discovery, which disrupts the narrative in an unnatural way.
As you watch the film, think about ways in which gender roles are reversed—there is the obvious switch of Aram being the nurturer while Sandy is the breadwinner. Sandy has an avid interest in sports that she turns into a career. What are some of the others you notice?
Older Men-Younger Women on the Silver Screen
Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall
In film pairings, the Older Man-Younger Woman is more common, so common age difference was often overlooked. For example, there was a 25-year age difference between Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall when they met on the set of To Have and Have Not; the pair was a popular couple onscreen and off. There was a 21-year age difference between Johnny Depp and Keira Knightly when the pair kissed in Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest, which Depp says bothered him.
Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn in Charade.
Cary Grant was concerned about propriety and turned down several roles as a romantic lead when he was in his 50s. At 59, Grant did agree to take the lead in Charade opposite Audrey Hepburn (34), but expressed so much discomfort that the filmmakers changed the screenplay so that Hepburn’s character was the one who did the romantic pursuit.
Grant was one of Hollywood’s most popular romantic leads and remained charismatic and attractive throughout his career. Audiences still enjoyed his performances as a leading man, but he expressed discomfort with the image of a much older man wooing a younger woman. In reality, he did marry Dyan Cannon when he was 33 years her senior and eventually retired from acting to devote himself to raising their daughter.
Some things to think about
Kershaw’s article suggests that there is growing acceptance of the Older Woman-Younger Man relationship. What do you think? What is pop culture’s role in this acceptance (if any)? Is Kershaw’s assertion that the Demi Moore-Ahston Kutcher marriage made people look at these relationships in a new way. Is the Older Man-Younger Woman still considered (more) acceptable?
My Name is Khanwas a crossover success for Indian film director Karan Johar. The film is set in America and has a large amount of English language content. For many Americans, this film served as an introduction to Indian cinema and two of its biggest stars—Shah Rukh Khan (also billed in some films as Shahrukh Khan), who plays the lead character, Rizvan Khan, and Kajol, who plays his wife, Mandira.
The film tells the story of an Indian man with Asperger’s Syndrome in post-9/11 America who takes his wife’s challenge to “go tell the president who you are!” seriously and makes a journey that takes him on a cross-country tour of the U.S. as he tries to meet the president and explain that he is not a terrorist. It also a story about a mixed marriage as Khan is Muslim and Mandira is Hindu (as a bit of trivia, Shah Rukh Khan is Muslim and married to a Hindu in real life; Kajol is Hindu).
Some critics have compared the film to Forrest Gump and there are definitely parallels between the two films, such as Khan’s and Forrest’s journeys which put them in the path of people and events that make the news; the way both men change the people they encounter; and the quests they embark upon.
My Name is Khan will seem familiar in some ways to American viewers because of the similarity to Forrest Gump and some parts of film narrative and production are common to both Indian and American cinemas, such as the use of flashbacks and the use of close-ups to convey the characters’ emotions and responses.
There are also some aspects that are much more typical of Bollywood: the length of the film, the use of melodrama, musical numbers to extend the narrative, choreographed crowd scenes, and using the camera to revolve and swirl around characters to convey a sense of emotional distress.
Bollywood elements of the film
Melodrama is one of the staples of Indian cinematic narrative. Plot (and often overly theatrical acting) weighs more heavily than characterization. In My Name is Khan there are several events that move the plot forward and which may seem too predictable or too heavy-handed to American viewers, such as the deaths of Mark and Sameer. Khan’s arrest, beating, and release from prison are another example. Any of these events on its own might work in a typical American film, but all of them together pushes the limits on the American viewer’s ability to suspend disbelief. In Indian cinematic tradition, the use of melodrama is expected—the characters usually have every single crutch or support device ripped away from them over the course of a film so that when there is resolution in the end, the viewer has a sense that the character has overcome absolutely all odds to reach victory.
What makes the melodrama of My Name is Khan palatable for American viewers is Shah Rukh Khan’s acting. He refrains from doing overblown acting through most of the film and is usually very believable as Khan, stuck inside his mind and unable to process the unspoken emotions and responses of other people. Shah Rukh Khan lets the slightest flickers of expression around his mouth and eyes tell the story as Khan makes discoveries and realizations about the world he encounters.
While American movies use music in their soundtracks and sometimes have characters who sing snippets of a song in a scene, Hollywood movies generally don’t use songs to advance narrative unless the film is a Musical. In Indian cinema, musical numbers are expected in almost every genre. While there are no big dancing numbers in My Name is Khan, there are a few places where a song is used to move the story along. A song starts when Madira cuts Khan’s hair and turns into a montage of the pair falling in love. The closest we get to an all-out song and dance routine is during the memorial service at the church where Mama Jenny and the congregation sing “We Shall Overcome” and Khan joins in.
An example of a more typical musical number in Indian cinema is this piece from Mission Kashmir:
In the film, the two characters in the scene were childhood friends who haven’t seen each other for years; the man, Altaaf, has been groomed to be a terrorist and he originally plans to use the woman, Sufiya, to gain access to a TV station where she works. Here, he fakes his way into a performance she is doing of a song that is sometimes played on the night a Kashmiri bride-to-be is painted with henna. At the end of the performance Sufiya has a flashback to her childhood and singing the song with Altaaf; she recognizes him and they are reunited.
Many of the post-9/11 events in the film are designed to show the anti-Muslim sentiment in America at the time (and which is still lingering). Again, some of these incidents fall into the realm of melodrama: for American viewers, it is hard to buy the idea that Reese and Sameer would be best friends for seven years and then Reese would suddenly stop speaking to Sameer after his father dies in the war in Afghanistan. The other kids at school believe Sameer is a Muslim, but surely his best friend would know Sameer’s true character (and that he is Hindu).
American viewers might also be thrown off by the overlapping events and subplots in the film—as Khan makes his way across the country, new characters and situations are introduced and the film goes back and forth with these scenes and the larger story of Khan’s journey.
‘There are only two kinds of people in the world’
The character of Mama Jenny is interesting in light of our previous discussion of the representation of blacks in Hollywood films. In My Name is Khan, Mama Jenny is close to the stereotypes of a Mammy character and what Spike Lee calls “the magical, mystical Negro,” a character who has special spiritual, healing, or magical abilities. Mama Jenny’s spirituality and generosity are supposed to show that Khan’s mother’s assessment of people was right; his mother told him religion doesn’t really matter, that there are two kinds of people in the world: good and bad. Mama Jenny is supposed to be a “good” one. While the intent of the character is good, the characterization may be flat and stereotyped to American viewers when they see Mama Jenny in her big skirt and head-wrap that are eerily similar to Aunt Jemima’s or her life in a ramshackle cabin that is eased by her involvement in her church. This type of portrayal is so common in the films and TV shows that America exports, the representation is picked up and reproduced in other cultures.
The film tries to show that Khan’s mother was right about the two types of people in the world by contrasting Mama Jenny with the woman at the fund-raiser who tells Khan it is “for Christians only” and by showing different types of Muslims over the course of the film. We are shown Khan and his mother, his brother, and his sister-in-law as “good” Muslims. Khan is shown praying in several and his sister-in-law wears the hijab, but we don’t get much perspective on what they think or believe—again, this is where plot and action take precedence over fuller character development. In contrast, the “bad” Muslims are shown in the mosque inciting one another to violence.
By the end of the film, we don’t get too deep into any of the characters, which may seem odd to American viewers who are used to films that often follow the literary expectation that a character must grow in some way or change perspectives by the end of the film. Part of this may be a cultural difference: in America, there is much focus on “the individual” and we expect a certain amount of depth and motivation to explain a character’s actions. In other cultures where family and group take precedence over the individual, storytelling may focus on actions and consequences of events rather than an individual’s unique understanding of those events.
Film Terminology
Diegetic Sound—the sounds a character can hear on screen, even if the source is not visible (e.g. birds chirping or music playing on the radio). Non-diegetic sound is not implied to be part of the character’s environment (e.g. narration or music that swells in the background during a suspenseful scene). The music that plays when Mandira cuts Khan’s hair is non-diegetic; when Khan, Mama Jenny and the congregation sing “We Shall Overcome,” it is diegetic sound.
Flashback—interrupting chronological sequence by injecting scenes of earlier events unfolding.
Melodrama—the use of extravagant theatricality and the predominance of plot or physical action over character development.
If it’s a film class, why is there a picture of a bunch of musicians? Well, this week we’re talking about race in Hollywood and focusing specifically on African Americans in film. This week, the students in the class read a chapter about how the Civil Rights Movement impacted American society and popular culture in the 1960s.
The representations of blacks in Hollywood films was historically full of stereotypes (the domestic, the fool, the threat) or, just as troubling, notable for a complete absence from the screen. We’ll get to those ideas in a few minutes.
Now about that photo. It’s not the one I would like to have at the top of this post. The one I would like to have hasn’t been taken. See the man with the clarinet and the man with the guitar in the center of the photo? They are Charlie Gabriel and Del McCoury. Gabriel is one of the members of the Preservation Hall Jazz Band and McCoury leads the bluegrass ensemble that bears his name. The two bands recorded an album, American Legacies, in 2011 and occasionally do performances together.
The two bands recently did a concert at the university and there was a moment before the show started that I would have captured had I been able to photograph the performance: before the stage lights went up, Charlie and Del walked out on stage together holding hands. Two men so full of talent and love for their music supporting each other as they took the stage–the gesture was a small, human, and completely beautiful moment. With Charlie being 80 and Del in his 70s, I kept thinking about how unlikely that gesture would have been at the start of their careers–even if they had no personal qualms about race, the society around them and the audiences in the 50s and 60s would have.
A sampling of how the two groups’ styles blend well together, bringing together two uniquely American sounds:
Now, let’s look at the movies.
African Americans & the Film Industry
The early American film industry operated similarly to the music and theater fields—often, there were separate productions for black and white audiences. From about 1915-1950, more than 500 race films were produced for black audiences. While most of these films were financed and scripted by whites, a handful were made by black filmmakers. Unfortunately, many of the films have been lost and only about 100 remain.
Filmmaking pioneer and author Oscar Micheaux
An early pioneer of cinema, Oscar Micheaux, worked for Lincoln Motion Picture Company and advertised that the company’s films were scripted and produced entirely by African Americans. The 1920 film Within Our Gates, written and directed by Micheaux is the oldest surviving film made by an African American director. The film tells the story of a black woman who travels north to raise funds for a school in the South. Along the way, she discovers secrets about her family history, which sets the stage for racial violence that culminates with the lynching of a black man. Micheaux’s films and books often depicted the accomplishments of blacks in the face of adversity. Some critics complain about the overwrought acting and limited production values in Micheaux’s work, but his films were often more concern about the message than the delivery, and are worth viewing to see his ideas about politics and societal roles.
After Micheaux, there were very few black filmmakers in America until the late 20th century and the rise of the Blaxploitation movies. From the 1930s to the late 1950s, the African American presence in Hollywood films is limited to secondary roles. One thing I ask students to consider when they’re thinking about this era is how it would feel to never see reflections of your “self” on screen. What message would it send to continually see only white people in leading roles and portrayed as successful? For nearly 40 years, black audiences did not see their lives reflected back through popular movies. (Other minority groups have a similar treatment in Hollywood films; often those representations don’t show up on screen until an independent filmmaker has success with a film that shows the world his or her community; once larger studios see that there is an audience for the material, more films with a bigger budget follow.)
Sidney Poitier helped both black and white audiences envision African Americans in dignified positions.
In the late 1950s and into the 1960s, Sidney Poitier broke through the American color barrier and delivered performances that helped Americans begin to envision blacks and whites as equals. The Defiant Ones, A Raisin in the Sun, Blackboard Jungle, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, In the Heat of the Night, and A Patch of Blue allowed Poitier to play a wide range of roles from the comedic to the romantic and the dramatic. At the height of his career Poitier placed an emphasis on dignity, delivering his performances with measured emotion that emphasized wit and intellect. He gave white audiences a different vision of African Americans and their potential.
By the 1970s, though, the reserved performances of Poitier gave way to films that bubbled with anger and frustration at unjust situations and a racist society. In 1971, Melvin Van Peebles hit big with his independent film Sweet Sweetback’s Baadasssss Song as did Gordon Parks with Shaft (Note: These trailers are graphic and contain adult language). These films, with an emphasis on the gritty urban scenes, the drug trade, violence, revenge, and stylistic editing and funky soundtracks opened the doors to a new generations of black filmmakers as well as opportunistic low-budget imitations by studios trying to cash in.
Charles Burnett’s films of the 1970s and 1980s were often attempts to show realistic images of black life in America; his films do not rely on the flashy color and creative editing of the Blaxploitation era movies. Instead, they have a stark, quiet realism Killer of Sheep, My Brother’s Wedding, and To Sleep With Anger are some of his best known films.
From the 1980s to now, filmmakers like Spike Lee, Robert Townsend, John Singleton, Allen and Albert Hughes, and Julie Dash, etc., have been directing movies that depict black life in contemporary America. Critics and the film industry started noticing Spike Lee with his short films and the 1986 feature She’s Gotta Have It, but his 1989 film Do The Right Thing caught all of America’s attention for its fresh camera work, inventive dialogue, and the mix of humor, anger, and sadness that show the events that unfold in a racially mixed neighborhood on the hottest day of the year.
This week, the class watched Something New, which focuses on an interracial relationship. Kenya (Sanaa Lathan) is a successful business woman who finds herself set up on a blind date with Brian (Simon Baker). As the film opens, the audience sees she is under pressure at work to prove herself and in her personal life to find a mate. Her girlfriends try to get her to lower her high expectations—she wants a man who is educated, has a job, has good teeth, and “isn’t crazy,” which seems reasonable, but then she keeps listing requirements further narrowing the possibile candidates. When a friend sets her up on a blind date with a single landscape architect, it sounds like an good match until she sees he is white.
The film offers a glimpse into the life of an upper-class black woman; even with her accomplishments and background (coming from a family of “academics” and graduating from top schools), Kenya still has to work harder than her white colleagues to prove her worth to the firm where she is employed. The film does a frank exploration of race in America and shows both black and white views with honest, if not very subtle, scenes where Kenya and Brian explore their own expectations and values while also dealing with the opinions of family and friends.
An interesting thing about film is that it can be reflective of current societal attitudes or it can project an ideal for people to strive for. For example, many of the War films during World War II show a racially integrated military while the armed forces were still segregated in real life—desegregation of the armed forces took place in 1948. Showing a fictional unity on screen reinforced the idea of all Americans working together for the cause.
American films and TV shows featuring black characters often make a point of explaining the difference between black culture and the rest of America. On the TV show House, Dr. House (Hugh Laurie) often makes exaggerated comments about Dr. Foreman’s (Omar Epps) experiences with crime and life in a ghetto. An interesting contrast can be seen in British television shows where multiracial casts often do not discuss their backgrounds. In the crime drama Luther, lead detective John Luther’s (Idris Elba) experiences as a black man in England are not mentioned by him or other characters. Racism exists in the UK, but it is focused differently than it is the U.S. The history of slavery in the U.S. and legislative language that ignored the basic human rights of significant portions of the population still reverberate today; other issues such as economic anxieties and fears over security impact how immigrants and people of other religions are treated.
NPR did a piece on African American stereotypes in the movies that is worth listening to. Click here to listen. Professor Anna Everett makes the observation that many of the stereotypical black characters in films are not “contextualized” within a family or community; they come out of nowhere and are attached to nothing. The white characters around them impart significance and meaning to their existence within the world of the film. Actor/director Bill Duke talks about the limited roles for African Americans in Hollywood and the dilemma many face as they are torn between paying the bills and holding out for roles that go beyond stereotypical representations.
My apologies to Same Cooke for borrowing a line from “Wonderful World” for the title of this.
Don’t take this post too much to heart; it’s a musing, a passing thought, not a lecture. But, do feel free to chime in with ideas.
My youngest saw Edward G. Robinson and Joan Bennett and said, “He’s so handsome; she’s so beautiful,” and I realized he was talking about their clothes. To him, they’re “really dressed up,” but people wore suits and dresses all the time in the 1940s, not just for special occasions. My son is 6, but he’s not alone in his reading of the movies from the 1940s. Costuming sometimes throws my college students for a loop because many of them assume characters in the older movies are supposed to be very wealthy or high-class because of their clothing.
While I understand that keeping up with things like fashion and furniture trends of the 20th century might be asking a bit much of the students, it is disconcerting to have people misunderstand a movie because they don’t have much familiarity with historical events. For example, many students assumed that “the Great War” mentioned in Hugo was a reference to the French Revolution instead of World War I—I can possibly understand mixing up the two World Wars, but the French Revolution isn’t even in the same century in which the film was set. In other years, I’ve had students who wrote exam answers that described the “thriving movie industry during the Civil War’—problematic since the American Civil War ended in 1865 and the some of the first movie cameras didn’t appear for almost another twenty years; a “thriving” film industry wasn’t around until the early 20th century.
If these kinds of misunderstandings happened with only one or two students each semester, I would figure I was witnessing individual cases of people who didn’t like their history classes and did better in other subjects. But, because there are so many students lacking knowledge of history each semester, it makes me worry about what else they’re not able to put into context. To not really understand the Civil Rights Movement may leave them without an understanding of the deep social changes it brought, nor of the continuing struggle of different groups to find equality in America.
Kindergartners like my son can’t be expected to put many things into a historical context, but at what point should we have an awareness of what happened in the past or what our society was like a generation or two before our own time?
On a lighter note, I wonder what people in the future will assume about contemporary movies based on the clothing?
This week, we’re looking at the Science Fiction genre. We’ll also spend a little time thinking about Horror and Fantasy. The film the class watched was Inception; whether it is an example of science fiction is something we can debate.
First, let’s consider the three genres mentioned. They’re closely related and many films combine elements from all three. It should be noted that each genre has subgenres, such as slasher flicks, ghost stories, and monster movies under the larger umbrella of horror.
Science Fiction‑generally has imaginative, but somewhat plausible premises. As the name implies, the genre is concerned with technology and science. Classic sci-fi movies were often set in the future or outer space or focused on the consequences of scientific discovery (robots, clones, etc.) This tends to be a genre of ideas and filmmakers use it to explore philosophical ideas, such as ethics, social structure, and identity‑especially what it means to be human. Some examples of science fiction movies are: The Day the Earth Stood Still, Godzilla, Planet of the Apes, Star Wars, Aliens, Bladerunner, Frankenweenie, and The Fifth Element.
Fantasy‑usually contains supernatural or highly fanciful elements such as magic, supernatural creatures, and magical or enchanted places. Often the theme is one of good vs. evil. Some examples of fantasy films are The Harry Potter series; The Lord of the Rings Trilogy; The Dark Crystal; Ghost Busters, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe; The Wizard of Oz; The Corpse Bride, Coraline, and the Black Cauldron.
Horror‑contains unnatural or supernatural themes and elements and is designed to unsettle or frighten the viewer. The genre has roots in folklore and traditions that tried to explain death, the afterlife, and the nature of good and evil. Even modern horror tales and movies often focus on societal fears surrounding these themes. Some examples of horror movies are: Dracula, The Mummy, The Wolfman, An American Werewolf in London, The Shining, The Grudge, The Exorcist, Stigmata, Night of the Living Dead, and Psycho.
While these genres are often looked at as mindless entertainment, they often address deep issues about identity, ethics, or society. The surface may look escapist, but the images and ideas may leave the viewer mulling over the implications of what he or she has just seen. For example, we might think about mind control and personal privacy after watching Inception. If it were possible to control someone else’s dreams, should we? What ideas are truly our own? Which of our thoughts come from external suggestions?
Why are genres even necessary?
The genre system helps with marketing and distribution. It also helps in development. A screenwriter will have better luck pitching a script that fits into an understandable category like Romantic Comedy, Horror, Thriller, etc. He or she can spend less time describing “what kind of story” it is and get into a more specific pitch—how this film is different from all the other slasher flicks or which ones it is similar to so that the marketing department is likely to know which audience is likely to see it.
On the marketing and distributing end, it is easy for viewers to scroll through specific genres on a streaming site like Netflix or iTunes. Most of us know what types of movies we like and these services use broad genres and fine-tune suggestions based on what we watch, rent, or purchase. My Netflix suggestions direct me to “dark humor,” “British drama,” and “psychological thrillers,” because I’ve watched movies like Shaun of the Dead, the BBC’s Sherlock, and North by Northwest recently.
Even if you go to a brick and mortar movie theater or video store, genres are used. If you go see Bullet to the Head or Skyfall, you’ll also see previews of the action movies coming out in the next few months. If you go to a video store, you’ll find the films arranged by category, and if you’re a regular, the staff will probably make recommendations based on what you seem to like.
With the rise of independent filmmakers, the genre lines are getting more blurry, but are still used as a part of the cultural shorthand. A film like Chasing Amy might get categorized as both a romantic comedy and a gay/lesbian film because of the lesbian character.
How should we classify Inception?
Some might argue that Inception is not a science fiction film. Inception contains “dream sequences,” but many of these seem like the typical fare found in action movies even if the special effects used to indicate the dream sequences sometimes seem like the stuff of fantasy; these effects and the fantastic element are not consistently used. But, the biggest problem with labeling the film a science fiction movie is that it doesn’t seem to address any of the anxiety over technology and ethics that the typical sci-fi movie does.
Because we can’t get a real handle on the reality of the world in the film or of Cobb’s character, we aren’t given insight into what is truly at stake for him or society as a result of dream manipulation.
Others might argue that the film is a science fiction movie because of the theme of using mind control and the ethics of how that can be applied. Is there ever a time when it would be acceptable to enter someone else’s mind and place ideas there? The very thought is chilling to most people, and playing on modern anxieties about who might be monitoring us at any given time, does put the film in the realm of classic science fiction like 1984.
If you have not watched the film or are getting ready to watch it again, consider whether it has a stable structure. At first, Inception seems like a series of random events, which like a dream, change constantly without reason. But, some threads do continue to appear throughout Inception, possibly giving the film an underlying structure. At the very least, the attempt to replicate the dreamstate gives the film a series of disruptions that finally become a pattern.
Another element to think about is Cobb. Are we in his story or is he the prominent figure in the dreams of another? Do we have a reliable narrator?
Film terminology
CGI: computer-generated imagery is the use of computer graphics to create or contribute to an image used on screen. Some of the first well-known uses of CGI were in films like Jurassic Park and Toy Story. As the software becomes more affordable, more independent and smaller artists are producing film and video games using CGI.
Extreme close-up: when the camera shows an actor’s face in detail or a single object is the focus of the frame, with little or no surrounding background for context. The spinning top in Inception is an example.
(Un)Reliable narrator: the degree of truth in a narrator (or point-of-view character)’s story gives the viewer a sense of whether he or she is trustworthy. The Usual Suspects makes great use of an unreliable narrator.
Film Noir (literally ‘black film or cinema’) was coined by French film critics (first by Nino Frank in 1946) who noticed the trend of ‘dark’ and downbeat looks and themes in many American crime and detective films released in France after World War II.
These films included The Maltese Falcon (1941), Murder, My Sweet (1944), Double Indemnity (1944), The Woman in the Window (1944), and Laura (1944). These movies were a big contrast to Hollywood’s musicals and comedies. Fear, mistrust, bleakness, loss of innocence, despair and paranoia are often found in noir, reflecting the ‘chilly’ Cold War period when the threat of nuclear annihilation was ever-present. Happy endings were rare in noirs.
Women in Film Noir are usually seen as femme fatales (and, sometimes, there is an angelic ‘savior’ figure). Many critics see these portrayals as an attempt to keep women confined to expected roles, a sort of backlash against the independence women who had joined the workforce during World War II had gained. John and Stephanie Blaser’s essay, FILM NOIR‘S PROGRESSIVE PORTRAYAL OF WOMEN, argues that the femme fatale in Film Noir creates an image of the powerful and fearless independent woman.
Some characteristics of Film Noir:
disillusioned male character
femme fatale
betrayal and love triangles
gritty urban environments
rain-slicked streets
smoke, shadows, fan blades to give sense of doom
most exterior scenes are shot at night
use of horizontal patterns and light [e.g. shadows, blinds, bars on windows or prison doors]
use of low-key lighting and harsh shadows
What to Look For:
As you watch films noir, pay attention to:
dim lighting
horizontal shadows
rain-slicked streets
urban settings
femme fatales
gritty realism
camera angles that enhance sense of foreboding
The Woman in the Window
The Woman in the Window (1944) is a tale about a mild-mannered professor, Richard Wanley (Edward G. Robinson) who gets caught up in a murder/blackmail plot with Alice Reed (Joan Bennett), whose portrait is on display next door to his social club. This movie contains many of the elements of a classic Film Noir—a femme fatale, murder, intrigue, stylistic elements such as the rainy exterior shots, nighttime setting, urban location, and details that add a sense of foreboding.
The film also departs from some Film Noir traditions. For example, the male lead is not necessarily a disillusioned man or a returning war veteran; Richard Wanley is middle-aged and practical (he declines an invitation to a burlesque show and hesitates to get involved with Alice even though he finds her attractive). He might complain about boredom, but the affection he shows to his wife and son in the opening and their prominently displayed photographs indicate he is a dedicated family man. This devotion to family also prevents a love triangle from developing; the male-female relations in the film are situational rather than passionate.
The Woman in the Window also departs from Film Noir standards with its ending. The dream sequence offers up an unexpected resolution, which is in contrast with the typical Noir ending with the hero’s demise or imprisonment.
So, here we arrive at one of the debates among film scholars, critics, and fans: Is Film Noir a genre or a style of filmmaking? Does it have thematic and narrative conventions like Westerns, War, or Horror films? Or, is it a visual style made up of particular camera angles, lighting, and locations? Some suggest it is both a genre and a style.
Why should modern filmgoers care about movies that were made nearly 70 years ago? The compelling storytelling is one reason; these films tend to have plot twists and unexpected moments that keep the viewer guessing. Another reason to get familiar with the Film Noir genre is to better enjoy modern films that pay homage to Noir. Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction is often labeled a neo-Noir. Even children’s programming plays with Film Noir—the Sam Spud gag on Between the Lions is a nod to the Sam Spade films inspired by the Ellery Queen detective novels.
Fritz Lang
Fritz Lang, film director
The director of The Woman in the Window was born in Vienna, Austria in 1890. He studied graphic design and fine art in Vienna and Paris before enlisting in the Austrian army during World War I. Lang was severely injured in the war in 1916 and spent some of his convalescence writing scenes for a movie. He didn’t get a full start in the movie business until after the war. In 1918, he was sent home suffering from “shell shock,” or post-traumatic stress disorder as it is labeled today.
His background in art and anxiety related to the trauma of war often combine in Lang’s work to show a beautiful if nightmarish world. Lang is a master at establishing mood and conveying a sense of growing doom and paranoia. In The Woman in the Window, the scenes where Wanley disposes of the body and has several run-ins with possible witnesses along the way heighten the tension and Edward G. Robinson’s furtive glances around and in the mirror give the character believability.
His silent film Metropolis was the most expensive silent film of 1927. The film is an expressionistic science fiction tale of a future torn by class divisions. The 1931 film M centers on a series of child murders and vigilante justice. Both are visually stunning and images from the films revisit the mind after viewing.
Film terminology:
Exterior shot—scene taking place outside.
Low key lighting—lighting in a film that does not provide total illumination of the subject, adding to the feeling of suspense.
Points to ponder:
Do you think Film Noir is a genre, a style, or both? Why?
What are some of the characteristics of Film Noir you found in this week’s film? Would you consider this week’s film a true example of Film Noir?
Why do we, as a culture, have periods were we seem to gravitate toward certain genres? I.e. Film Noir being popular after World War II, Westerns in the 1950s, Horror in the 1970s and early 1980s and currently?
The poster for Windtalkers sends the message that the film’s story is really about the white protagonist.
The film the class is watching this week is Windtalkers, directed by John Woo. We’ll address representations of Native Americans in the film, masculinity, and some things to look for in John Woo’s directing. But first, let’s do a quick overview of the War film genre in Hollywood. We’ll use John Belton’s American Cinema/American Cultureas our main resource for discussing the genre and its place in American popular culture.
War films
War films occupy an important place in American cinema. This genre, along with the Western, helps us define ourselves as well as defines us to the rest of the world. These films often show a unified America that does not exist in reality and they often depict the idealized American man–a strong individual with high morals who will fight for his country (and, it is often implied, the underdog).
Belton writes, “The war film mediates our relationship to war, helping to prepare us for it, reconcile us to victory or defeat, and adjust us to its aftermath. The conventions of the war film continue to shape our understanding of real wars–to inspire us, on the one hand, to fight in them and, on the other, to protest against them. Though wars continue to be fought and won or lost on the battlefield, they also continue to be fought and won or lost through their representation on the movie or television screen. Images of war explain why we fight; they stage and restage war’s battles; and they attempt to explain why we won or lost” (182).
The war films made during and shortly after World War II were generally supportive of the American military and our role in the war. These films helped garner support for the war effort or depicted the actions of the soldiers involved as unquestionably heroic. While there might have been occasional references to “war is hell,” the mood is overwhelmingly supportive. The Vietnam war changed that. War films from the early 1970s on, often question American involvement in global wars and the decision making process where young men and women are sent to wars for reasons other than a direct military threat to the U.S.
Belton lists four conventions in American war films:
the suspension of civilian morality during war (i.e., killing other people is no longer considered murder during war).
collective goals take precedence over the goals of the individual (i.e., completing the assigned mission is more important than any personal goals).
there is rivalry between men in predominantly male groups and the objectification of women (i.e., many war films contain sub-themes where recruits compete for the drill sergeant’s favor during boot camp; when women appear in war films, they are often companions for the men when they have leave or are caregivers such as nurses).
the reintegration of veterans to civilized society (not all war films include this aspect, but the struggle to return to civilian life is a frequent theme in post-Vietnam war films).
Masculinity constructed
In “Men, Masculinity, and Manhood Acts,” Douglas Schrock and Michael Schwalbe discuss how masculinity is developed and studied. They provide an overview of masculinity studies in the late 2oth century and suggest studying how men interact and collaborate to build and reinforce masculine identities.
If you’re not used to thinking of gender as separate from biological sex, it may help to do some thinking about the ways in which gender is socially developed. Most of us are labeled “male” or “female” at birth based on our genitalia. That is our biological sex, and while it seems fairly cut and dry, there are intersex conditions that make even biological designations of male or female unclear—something that seems like an essential marker of identification—”male” or “female”—is not always a reliable or easy categorization to make.
Gender is different from our biological sex. Gender is how we view ourselves (and are viewed by others) as male or female*. Gendering starts early—often before we even make it out of the womb. Parents who find out the sex of their baby often share the news so well-wishers can stock up on pink or blue items. Since we are concentrating on masculinity this week, I’ll write about how social gendering happens with boys; you can think of similar examples of how it works with girls.
A more recent version: cowboy costume for sale on vegaoo.com
Early on, boys are given “boy toys”—trucks, construction toys, sports equipment, and toy swords and guns. The little boy who dresses up as a fireman or a superhero gets indulgent smiles from strangers. The little boy who slips his feet into mom’s shoes gets scolded even if he has put them on because he thinks they are a neat color or he wants to be an inch taller; adults fear the little boy will “turn gay” by putting on the shoes or playing with his sister’s Easy Bake Oven. (For whatever reason, it is more acceptable in the United States for a girl to show “masculine” traits like assertiveness and interest in “boy” things like sports.)
For American males, anything that smacks of femininity or homosexuality is forbidden and adolescent boys quickly learn to use both femininity and possible gayness as insults to regulate each other’s behavior–i.e, “you throw like a girl!” Boys who do not conform to the expected gender roles are ostracized, sometimes with tragic results.
While gender roles are shifting, there is still a lot of pressure for men to conform to narrow definitions of “acceptable” masculine behavior and presentation. Men in the U.S., are, by and large, expected to be strong, assertive, to objectify women, be rational, keep their emotions in check, etc. The problem with this narrow definition is that it excludes many types of masculinity; it assumes heterosexuality, for example, or leaves out familial cultural roots and their impact.
Many of the ways men define themselves (or are defined by society) is in opposition to the concept of Woman. Why does it seem natural to define something by what it isn’t? Are there other ways might men define themselves that isn’t dependent upon a binary?
In 2010, Esquire Magazine did a poll of American men on a wide range of topics to see how the generations felt about everything from politics to sex. Click here to see how men in their 20s and 50s responded. What might we gather about American men from the survey results? How do the two generations seem similar? Where do they seem divided on what it means to be a man in the U.S. now?
Windtalkers
Windtalkers is a 2002 film directed by John Woo. By the title of the film, we expect to hear the story of the Navajo Code Talkers who served during World War II and kept the Japanese forces from deciphering American radio transmissions. Instead, the film focuses most of the attention on Sergeant Joe Enders (played by Nicolas Cage) and his perception of the mission, including his assignment as a body guard to Private Ben Yahzee (Adam Beach).
Director John Woo uses many parts of the formula found in standard Hollywood war films: a racist soldier, a nurse with a heart of gold, a love-sick soldier, a commander who does everything by the books, a scene where the Navajo solider saves the racist, etc. Woo also presents the Japanese soldiers as a largely faceless enemy, so he can spend more time on the pyrotechnics.
Woo built his name as an action director, so it is not really surprising that the film is actually thin on story, but Windtalkers doesn’t really show his trademark almost balletic action scenes. The hand-to-hand combat is heavy on bullets, blood, and bayonets and the large-scale battle senes are full of explosions and flying bodies, but it doesn’t show Woo’s style at its best. Be on the lookout for the juxtaposition of sound and action in Windtalkers—some of the most violent scenes in Woo’s films have a light, peaceful soundtrack. To fully appreciate Woo, check out The Killer, Hard Boiled, and Face/Off.
While we don’t get much deep understanding of the Navjo Code Talkers’ story, the film is different from many Hollywood portrayals of Native American life because it takes place in the 20th century. Hollywood often relegates Native Americans to Westerns and historical dramas. In Windtalkers, we see Ben Yahzee and Private Charlie Whitehorse (Roger Willie) as men with some complexity—Ben writes letters to his son which he is forbidden to send in case they fall into Japanese hands and Charlie uses his spirituality to deal with the stress of war.
The production crew did go to the trouble to cast a Navajo speaker (Willie) in one of the lead Navajo roles; even though some of the pronunciation by other Native American actors is sometimes off, the effort to use the authentic language is still rare in Hollywood. In many Westerns from the Golden Age of Hollywood, indigenous languages are often simply made-up languages.
Adam Beach got into acting as a way to escape the rough life and his troubled childhood. Beach has used his place in the public eye to speak up about the lives of indigenous people in North America and to reach out to other young people in similar situations. Here, he speaks about being a role model:
What obligations do celebrities have to the public? Why should someone who is part of a minority culture feel obligated to speak up for their “group”?
For another perspective on the representations of Native Americans in popular culture, click here for an interview with actor, playwright, and doctor Evan Adams.
Film terminology for the week:
Close-up—a detailed view of a person or object without other context; the actor or actress may be framed so that part of their face or only their head and shoulders appear in the shot.
Jack Nicholson in The Shining. The “Here’s Johnny!” scene is one of the most iconic uses of the close-up.
Slow motion—shots of a subject photographed at faster than 24 frames per second, which when projected at a normal rate produce a dreamy or dancelike slow action; often used to emphasize mood or capture a “moment in time.”
A shoot-out from John Woo’s Hard Boiled uses slow motion to great effect to raise the tension throughout the scene:
* I am presenting this information in fairly traditional binary terms, but it should be understood that gender is complex and most people display both masculine and feminine traits because all of us are individuals and do not conform 100 percent to any stereotyped descriptions.
Myrna Loy and William Powell; the pair made several films together including the Thin Man series and Love Crazy.
Note: This blog is a virtual lecture that accompanies a film studies class, so there are references to specific readings and films the students have access to, but the casual reader might not. However, there are also general ideas about film studies and Hollywood history that don’t rely upon the texts and films.
British writer/comic Stephen Fry suggests that the difference between American and British humor comes down to self-confidence. He claims American comics’ routines hinge on a sense of optimism, while British comics celebrate their failures. Fry’s observation is interesting for the insight an outsider brings to our humor; also, he seems to be onto something.
When looking at American movies, the main character is often an underdog who has the pluck to get out of a sticky situation through wit, a little fast talk, and action. It is kind of ironic that one of the iconic comedians from Hollywood’s early days, Charlie Chaplin, was British; his Little Tramp character was the embodiment of the American myth of the everyman who can pull himself up by his bootstraps and make a name for himself. Another American comedic icon, Cary Grant, was also British; he came to the U.S. when he was 16, reinventing himself and helping Americans imagine an American man who could be urbane, witty, and sophisticated. While Grant played several types of roles throughout his career, he first hit big in screwball comedies—our genre this week.
Slapstick and anarchy
From the earliest silent movies through to today, slapstick has been a big part of American comedy.
The Marx Brothers had a special mix of wordplay and physical humor that reflected the wisecracking urban sensibilities of an evolving America where even the sons of Jewish immigrants could become world famous movie stars. The Marxes simultaneously lived the American dream and destroyed all attempts at creating any sort of institution. The brothers started out life in a poor section of New York’s upper East Side and worked the family vaudeville act into a film career that afforded them fame and wealth beyond their expectations. In their films, the Marxes poked fun at anyone or anything that attempted to impose order or assign value–higher education, socialites, government, etc., were trampled on with glee by the Marx Brothers.
The desire to destroy the institution—physical or more often, social—is a hallmark of American comedy. This brand of humor ties in with our idea of ourselves as iconoclasts and individualists. However, even with the destruction, there is usually a resolution where the institution is restored, but changed somehow and improved upon before the restoration is complete.
Movies such as Big Daddy (starring Adam Sandler) take on the institution of marriage and family. Sandler’s character, Sonny, is first presented as an overgrown kid who is selfish and destructive, belittling his friend Kevin for getting engaged. When a child (Julian, played by Dylan and Cole Sprouse) lands in his care, Sonny is forced to grow up, but he does it on his own terms—there are experiments with letting Julian dress himself and go by the name Frankenstein. He encourages the boy to urinate in public in attempt to keep him from constantly wetting his pants, but Sonny also uses a similar creative approach to get Julian to take a bath–dressing up as the father of the boy’s favorite superhero, Scuba Steve, and asking Julian to keep Scuba Steve company in the bathtub. A threat to the newly formed bond between Sonny and the boy by the court system forces Sonny to reevaluate not only his child-rearing strategy, but also his own views on marriage and family. By the film’s end, Sonny has become “normalized” into a marriage with a newborn of his own; his “improvement” to the system is introducing the ideas that each person involved in the child’s life has an impact and that men can raise well-adjusted children if given the opportunity.
Love and laughter
The battle between the sexes provides much fodder for American comedy. While the Romantic Comedy is often thought of as a genre that appeals more to female moviegoers, its foundations are in the Screwball Comedy, which had more general appeal. See the overview of the genre on Green Cine for more in-depth information about specific films, performers, and directors.
Screwball Comedies often pitted men and women against each other in conflicts that were substitutions for sexual expression. The term “screwball” was first used in the 1930s to describe the unpredictable pitches thrown by baseball players like Carl Hubbell. Movie critics adopted the term to describe the comedy films that came about in the early 1930s that revolved around unpredictable plots and zany antics between seemingly mismatched romantic partners.
Many films of the 1930s and 1940s have been labeled Screwball Comedies, including the film we are focusing on this week, Love Crazy. However, the label is often thrown at movies that simply have an element of madcap antics thrown into the mix.
For our purposes, a Screwball Comedy usually has the following elements:
A couple that is mismatched socially (one is usually from the upper class while the other is middle class), but a good match intellectually
Absurd situations or characters with secrets
Physical comedy that stands in for sex or physical affection
Rapid-fire dialogue that includes one-liners and innuendo from both parties
A series of misunderstandings that complicate the plot and prevent the couple from uniting until the end of the film
Neither party is idealized—the pair find each other irritating at the start of the film; interest often develops as the result of a challenge (there is no “love at first sight/stars-in-the-eyes” scene)
The resolution includes marriage or remarriage
Often, the middle class is idealized as virtuous in Screwball Comedies while the rich are viewed as being in need of reform (this is due in part to the original Screwball Comedies being produced during the Great Depression when audiences sought escapism and enjoyed seeing the rich get a comeuppance)
If you have done this week’s reading, you’ll note that Screwball Comedies reached their peak during the Production Code era. During this time in Hollywood’s history, the industry engaged in self-imposed censorship and graphic depictions of sex and violence (among other things) were banned. The 1931 film Scarface is considered the catalyst for the Production Code; read more details here.
Screenwriters had to develop films that would have mass-generational appeal. Keep in mind that during the 1930s and early 1940s, going to the movies was often an all-day affair where the audience saw a newsreel, comedy shorts and cartoons, the feature presentation, and possibly, a second feature as well. The movies had to appeal to everyone and offend no one.
With the Screwball Comedies, the screenwriters found ways to push the envelope and write dialogue and situations that adults would understand as intimate in nature and younger viewers would simply find funny or entertaining.
Jane M. Greene, in “A Proper Dash of Spice: Screwball Comedy and the Production Code,”* makes the case that antagonistic relationships stood in for sex during this era. She also argues that Love Crazy is not a true Screwball Comedy.
While we do see signs of the Production Code at work in Love Crazy—the Irelands have separate beds in their bedroom, for example—and Greene points to examples of how the dialogue was edited to conform to the Production Code, many elements of a classic Screwball Comedy are missing: Steve and Susan are already married when the film opens and even during the separation scenes, they do not have a physically antagonistic relationship. Their dialogue may be a bit suggestive on the night of their anniversary, but otherwise, the pair rarely exchange one-liners that hint at the sexual tension between them. Finally, the Irelands are both solidly middle class, so no tension exists over perceived social status.
Some elements of Screwball that appear in the film: There are outside forces that work to keep the pair apart (Susan’s mother, Ward Willoughby the archer, and Steve’s former girlfriend Isobel); the misunderstandings about Ward Willoughby and Pinky Grayson, as well as Steve’s masquerade as his “sister”; and the scenes where Steve is institutionalized.
If you haven’t watched Love Crazy yet, or plan to revisit it, here are some things to look for:
The performances of William Powell and Myrna Loy: the duo was paired up in several films in the 1930s and 40s, including the Thin Man series. They play off of each other well and have a natural chemistry on screen that makes them believable as a married couple. While Powell isn’t as familiar to today’s audiences as other comedic actors of his generation (Cary Grant, for example), he had a natural grace and accessibility that made him an audience favorite. Likewise, Myrna Loy had good comedic timing and sass that made her more than just another pretty face.
The use of lighting and sound to underline the lighter comedic fare: unlike in heavy drama, the lighting in the film tends to be pretty even from scene to scene. Few dramatic close-ups are used; instead, there are many medium shots which allow the audience to focus on the entire scene unfolding rather than on the emotional impact for only one character at a time.
The reinforcing of middle class values: from the set design to the etiquette in place around meal times and standards of dress, the Irelands embody 1940s middle class values.
Gender roles and expectations: We have different visions of what it meant to be a man or woman in America at the time the film was made. How are the various characters presented? What does the film tell us about how men and women were expected to behave during this period?
Somewhat related—stereotypes: We see a nagging mother-in-law in several scenes. There is also a scene where the valet at the party is presented as a wide-eyed fool; the few blacks shown on screen in this era were often cast as domestic servants who also had an air of childishness about them. Listen to an NPR segment about black stereotypes in Hollywood here.
Questions to consider:
Why are relationships such a big source of comedic inspiration?
How has American film comedy evolved over the decades (or has it)?
What do you think of Stephen Fry’s assessment of the difference between British and American humor?
Until the Production Code was replaced with the ratings system in 1968, films were regularly edited or censored to conform to the standards of the code. Have you ever watched a film that you found offensive or thought should have been edited to some degree?
Film terminology for the week:
Classical cinema–mainstream narrative cinema, roughly from the mid-1910s to the 1960s. These movies are characterized by a strong story, star, and high production values. These movies usually have a clear conflict, complications that rise to a narrative climax, and a resolution that provides closure.
high key lighting–Bright, even illumination with few conspicuous shadows; this style of lighting is associated with comedies, musicals, and other “light entertainment” genres.
medium shot--A medium shot usually shows the performer from the knees or waist up; the shot is relatively close up and includes some details of the surrounding scenery.
A medium shot from Sherlock Holmes. Director Guy Ritchie places Robert Downey Jr. in front of the crowd where he is filmed from a slightly low angle.
mise en scène–how the various elements in a frame are arranged–this includes settings, decor, props, actors, costumes, makeup, lighting, performances, and character movements and positioning. Cinematic mise en scène is both the way the action is staged and how it is photographed. Also long, un-cut, unedited and uninterrupted sequences shot in real-time are often referred to as mise en scène.
Greene, Jane M. “A Proper Dash of Spice: Screwball Comedy and the Production Code,” Journal of Film and Video 63.3, Fall 2011.
Hugo is an adaptation of the graphic novel The Invention of Hugo Cabret by Brian Selznick. Martin Scorsese and screenwriter John Logan create extra storylines or fill in the backstory of characters who make minor appearances in the book because it adds more fully to the film’s impact, but in many ways, the film uses the book’s images as a blueprint. Scorsese’s film brings to life the illustrations of the mechanical man and Hugo peering out from the clock.
In addition to being Scorsese’s first venture into family movies, Hugo is Scorsese’s love letter to the magic of cinema and to some of the pioneers in the field. Of course, the figure of Papa Georges is based on the story of French filmmaker Georges Méliès, but there are nods to inventors and film pioneers such as the Lumière Brothers, Thomas Edison, and Edwin S. Porter, as well as to some of the first Hollywood Stars, such as Buster Keaton, Douglas Fairbanks, Harold Lloyd, Charlie Chaplain, Rudolph Valentino, Mary Pickford, and Tom Mix. (The scene where the Station Inspector, played by Sacha Baron Cohen, is dragged by the train is very much in the vein of Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin.) It is important to note the film’s acknowledgement of the international roots of early cinema in the West.
Scorsese is not the only filmmaker who pays visual tribute to his predecessors–Tim Burton and Quentin Tarantino both make films that are full allusions to the movies and filmmakers that have influenced them. For example, Frankenweenie has gags and characters that are based on classic horror movies such as Frankenstein, The Bride of Frankenstein, Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Godzilla. Having a little knowledge of the history of cinema will make your viewing of their movies much more enjoyable.
This film and many of the others we’ll watch this semester try to evoke a specific era. In Hugo, there are nods to popular culture of the day with writer James Joyce and musician Django Reinhardt taking part in the café life at the station. While knowing these figures is not crucial for understanding Hugo, spotting them and knowing their role in early 20th century culture (both helped usher in Modernism to some degree–Joyce’s stream-of-consciousness was a relatively new form as was Reinhardt’s jazz guitar playing) makes the viewing experience more fun.
George Melies was one of the first filmmakers to experiment with special effects.
Scorsese knows his film history and layers it into the storyline of Hugo, enhancing Georges Méliès’ contributions to film as one of the first filmmakers to experiment with special effects and discovering the jump cut, and Scorsese also givies viewers a quick overview of the beginnings of the film industry. Scorsese does a lot of work for film restoration and preservation projects as well as movie history projects. He is a director who never forgot his childhood love of the movies, as he reveals in this Lucasfilm interview. The story of Méliès’ financial ruin and the destruction of many of his films addresses some of the concerns about film preservation while the scene where Hugo and Isabelle sneak into the movies shows the power movies can have on the viewer.
Hugo captures the early days of filmmaking and movie going in scenes where Papa Georges and film professor Rene Tabard (Michael Stuhlbarg) talk about the transition of Méliès’ career from a stage magician to one of the first auteurs of cinema.
Many of the early experiments with cameras and film technology were done in Europe (especially France); American inventor Thomas Edison saw the potential of moving pictures as an entertainment source and put money into developing not only the equipment for making and showing movies, but also in developing them as a narrative device instead of simply another way to document the world. Very early films were simply movies of people going about their business and do not have a true storyline, but Edison, Méliès, and a few others started considering ways to use film to tell a story, building studios and experimenting with editing film to create a narrative arc through visual cues.
In America, most of the early movie stars came out of the studios in Hollywood and Hollywood became known across the globe as place where movies and dreams were made.
About some of the techniques used in Hugo
Martin Scorsese image from The Hindu.
Even though Hugo is marketed as a family movie, it has all of the touches that make it a Martin Scorsese movie The film’s establishing shot takes the viewer swooping in over Paris, through the train station, up the tower to Hugo’s face peering out at the world below sets the tone for the film. It is simultaneously in past and present—the set is a recreation of early 20th century Paris done in loving detail (and based in part on Méliès’ shots of the same area of Paris), but the filming technique uses the latest technology (the film was shot for 3-D viewing using the newest cameras and editing software).
The final scene of the film shot by Larry McConkey is one long Steadicam shot, which is a technique Scorsese uses to great effect in other films such as Goodfellas and many similar tracking shots appear in Mean Streets, such as the one where cinematographer Kent Wakeford’s camera follows Charlie (Harvey Kietel) into the bar as he greets the other patrons and then takes the stage with the dancers. The painterly use of color and the soundtrack that is used as a secondary storytelling device are also similar to Scorsese’s other films. The pops of color, such as the blue in the Station Guard’s uniform and the flower stand in Hugo are reminiscent of the hand-tinting Méliès put to use in his films where only some elements in a frame were colored.
Scorsese is also known for casting relative unknowns in major parts. Both of child actors Asa Butterfield (Hugo) and Chloe Grace Moretz (Isabelle) had a couple of big budget film experiences before being cast in Hugo. Similarly, Cathy Moriarity and Joe Pesci were cast in Raging Bull without having “name recognition.” Pesci had been ready to give up on his acting career when he got the call from Scorsese to play Jake LaMotta’s (Robert DeNiro) brother Joey.
Scorsese once said in an interview that he is fascinated with violence and people who are angry. While Hugo does not have the outright violence of Goodfellas or Taxi Driver, nor the seething anger underlying Raging Bull, there are plenty of reminders that the world is not fair or full of nice people. Many of the adults in Hugo’s world are angry, violent, or unreasonable. Hugo’s alcoholic uncle, the station inspector, and at times both Papa Georges and bookseller Monsieur Labisse are all figures who threaten and scare Hugo. His uncertain status as child fending for himself is a constant source of anxiety in the film: Hugo witnesses the chase, capture, and arrest of a fellow orphan and nearly suffers the same fate.
A note on Scorsese’s crew
Scorsese gets his films to have a signature look and feel through close working relationships with some of the best in their fields, such as film editor Thelma Schoonmaker and visual effects experts Rob Legato and Ben Grossman. Hugo’s distinctive look was a team effort. Mike Seymour’s article, Hugo: A study of Modern Inventive Visual Effects has a great overview of how Hugo was filmed.
Film terminology for the week
Jump cut: an abrupt, disorienting transitional device in the middle of a continuous shot in which the action is noticeably advanced in time or cut between two similar scenes. This might be done accidentally (a technical flaw or the result of bad editing) or purposefully (to create discontinuity for artistic effect). Georges Méliès discovered the jump cut by accident and then incorporated it into his films as a special effect.
In this scene from Breathless, Jean Luc Goddard uses the jump cut to imply the length of the car ride.
Parallel editing or cross cutting: alternating two or more scenes that are usually happening simultaneously but in different locations. Edwin S. Porter is often credited with first using parallel editing.
An early example from the 1920 film Way Down East, directed by D. W. Griffith
A more modern example from The Godfather, 1972, directed by Francis Ford Coppola
Steadicam shot: a hand-held camera technique using a stabilizing Steadicam (introduced in the late 70s), developed by inventor Garrett Brown, with a special, mechanical harness that allows the camera operator to take relatively smooth and steady shots, though hand-held, while moving along with the action; the resulting images are comparable to normal tracking shots on a wheeled dolly
Scene from Goodfellas where the Steadicam is used:
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