Blog Assignment #7: The Stuff Films are Made of

Blog Assignment #7: The Stuff Films are Made of

Smoking has an interesting history in the United States, so it is only fitting that it has had an even more interesting history in American film. In the 1960's tobacco reform was in its infancy. There was some, but not very widely available knowledge as to the carcinogens in cigarettes. The surgeon general did not give out a formal warning to the American public until 1964.

Changing the smoking culture was difficult. A habit as addictive as smoking could not be wiped away overnight, in fact it still has not been eradicated, only severely reduced. It is easy to picture smoking still being allowed in public places, but with its toxic chemicals, being edgy and daring.

My generation looks at cigarettes with disgust. There are only a handful of my peers who actually tolerate being around cigarette smoke, much less actually partake, but when I watched the blonde girl smoke during George's monologue to the class, I was captivated. Tom Ford contextually brought back the sex appeal of tobacco in this scene. There is a slight phallicism in the scene, but even more interesting is the pleasure derived from watching her. She is very photogenic.

Although it made me uncomfortable, I would imagine the scene with Carlos is supposed to have the same effect on the homosexual audience. I could still see a phallic element, but since George is enjoying a cigarette with Carlos, the scene ends up being much more inviting. The sexual undertones are subdued in favor of camaraderie between the two characters.

In these two scenes, Ford has shown us that the cigarette has made lasting impacts on American culture. Few films are able to incorporate what is now considered a "gross" habit with the elegance it had in the first half of the 20th Century. It takes a lot of work to erase the numerous anti-smoking PSAs I have seen growing up, but Tom Ford seemed to do just that in his film.

Blog Assignment #5: Melancholia & Mourning: the Death of Cinema

Blog Assignment #5: Melancholia & Mourning: the Death of Cinema

Melancholia opens like a masterpiece. I would be captivated by this montage as a standalone short film, but it also serves as an incredible introduction to the Lars von Trier's narrative.

In an extended sequence, von Trier summarizes his entire film with a Kubrick/2001: A Space Oddysey flair. The music is uncannily similar to "Blue Danube". It reinforces the notion that this film is an "epic" and seeks shake up the world of science fiction cinema.

The idea of emulating other directors to advance film seems contradictory, but it is a great commentary on what many academics would call "the death of cinema". In Melancholia I can see a longing for the filmmaking of previous generations. The "slow" transitions in the montage allow the spectator to really scrutinize each shot and utilize a cinephiliac  approach. Other elements, such as the CGI are cutting edge and embrace the digital age.

Cinema hasn't died, but finding "films" in the "movie" business has become increasingly difficult. Lars von Trier is trying to attract the cinephiles and the average movie-goer in Melancholia. The foreshadowing through the initial scene neatly summarizes what would have been considered too "avant-garde" for Hollywood. Major casting (Kirsten Dunst, Kiefer Sutherland, etc.) engages the everyday moviegoer and television watcher. CGI does not carry the film, but it provides an intriguing aesthetic.

On the other hand, the sheer darkness, subdued acting, and slow pace give Melancholia a greater purpose than the box office charts. Lars von Trier has an uncanny ability to extend a film's content without actually making it longer. The initial sequence was 8 minutes, but felt like 30. Each half could have stood alone as a narrative. 

In Melancholia film became an immersive experience again. Even though it felt long, I watched every frame and was not ever compelled to pull out my cell phone or take a bathroom break, something that modern movies have tended to bring out in the audience. Even with technology, film can't die as there will always be "purists" of the cinematic experience and cinephiles to appreciate them.

Blog Assignment #4: Like a Shooting Script, but for an Essay

Blog Assignment #4: Like a Shooting Script, but for an Essay

1) Main Argument: Although both are heavily respected and have their merits, I believe that formalism has a more appropriate place in film analysis and theory because elements of a film a heavily interconnected and continuity is extremely important in understanding its contribution to cinema. This is especially true in the film Psycho.

Background:

Claim: The Ideological film approach relies on analysis of a shot in context of the subsequent one to bring out its true meaning. In comparison, the Formalist approach looks at the context of scenes in relation to the entire film to bring out meaning.

Support: "The Dramaturgy of Film Form" by Sergei Eisenstein and Film as Film by V.F. Perkins

Which one?

The Formalist Approach

An entire film is something to be celebrated. Each individual scene makes (or at least should make) a contribution to the overall effect of the piece. Films that mold to Ideological Film theory do not evoke a lasting connection with the audience like those that are adept in the Formalist approach.

Support: Shower scene in Psycho, Film as Film, and "Psycho" by Robin Wood

Film Analysis:

I feel that this shower scene in Psycho has a lasting effect on the film throughout, not just on the shots that occur before and after. Ideological film theory does have value in this montage, but more important is how it affects the overall body of the work.

Support: Analysis from the scene.

Blog Assignment #2: Plato's Cave or the Trick's On Us?

Blog Assignment #2: Plato's Cave or the Trick's On Us?

Before class today, I thought Midnight in Paris was merely a film that celebrated fantasy and longed for a return to a "Golden Age". After today's lecture I've come to realize that Allen had much more interesting intentions. The film really is a criticism of the Institutional Mode of Response of Hollywood, by creating a film that fit perfectly into it.

In my screening notes I argued that Owen Wilson was cast as a typical stupid but lovable character that the audience was supposed to sympathize with while watching him lose and subsequently find love. Much of it felt nostalgic and fantastic. I was captivated by the representations of Dali, Hemingway, Picasso, and Stein. It was like a literary Disney Land.

Then after lecture I remembered my first Woody Allen screening, The Curse of the Jade Scorpion. I actually watched it at the theater so I must have been around eight or nine years old. I hardly remember  the plot, but I did think it was just a "weird" movie, although there were pretty big actors in the film (Dan Aykroyd, Charlize Theron). Most of the audience seemed to agree. There were boos and complaints throughout the credits. The film itself and the reactions received were very unlike the film I had just seen this past week.

In comparison, neither me or my eight year old self would call Midnight in Paris weird at all. After having learned about his stylistic tendencies, the movie was almost too "normal". The cast is relatively famous (Wilson, McAdams, Bates, Brody, even Bruni in her own right). Continuity editing is very well utilized and IMR is heavily followed. Many critics seem to agree, as the film is being nominated for the Academy Awards, SAG, etc. Many of these institutions appreciate the classic cinematic "allure" of cinema, awarding films such as The King's Speech, Titanic, and Rocky. These films sparked human desires more than they embraced the unique techniques of cinema.

I feel that Allen decided to follow these Hollywood conventions with the intent of sewing the deeper elements of his previous films in a more subtle way. He wanted most viewers to see the love story and fantasy and disregard real world implications. Even though the setting is Paris, the film fails to place itself in the real world. The reality is, a character like Gil would never even fall in love with a character like Inez. She stands for everything he hates. The clash between them is even worse than that of Paul and Madeline in Masculin Féminin. The women around Gil really only act to advance the plot of the film and to satisfy the Academy and those who wanted a Romantic Comedy.

The film's real gem is its critique on classic Hollywood fantasy. Allen purposefully cast Wilson, whose laid back "West Coast" style would better disregard the deeper moments in the film than an "East Coast" intellectual. It allows for many of Allen's key arguments to fly right over the heads of the general audience. I feel that much of the dialogue in the past is also just "fluff" to satisfy a general audience. The characters of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Stein play too perfectly into Gil's ideals of them to be realistic. There is no conflict between them as I'd imagine there should be.

The most important scene in the film is where Gil converses with Salvador Dali, Man Ray, and Luis Buñuel, the surrealists of the period. I feel that these are the artists Allen would identify best with of the period after having watched some of his other films. This is the first group to which Gil confesses the truth of his time travels into the 1920's. Interestingly enough, Man Ray reacts without surprise to which Gil replies "But you're a surrealist, I'm just a regular guy!" This is as blatant as Allen can get without ruining the facade of Romantic Comedy. Films from those like Allen and Godard are too "abstract" to get any attention from the mainstream, but we watch bland Romantic Comedies and Summer Action Flicks without complaint.

Allen really did play a great trick on my. The use of fantasy, famous actors, and the promise of love clouded my analysis of the film overall. Deeply sewn into the film is a critique of the same elements its audience has come to love.