Art Imitating Art

Earlier today I received an email from my friend John. Included in the email was a link to artist Justin Reed's website. I had never heard of this guy before now, but since many of his pieces are film-inspired I thought some of you out there might be interested in checking him out. At the site there is also a link to his blog. (It's under "News.") Some pretty cool stuff there. I hope all of you enjoy the art. Let me know which pieces you think are the best. Take care. 

A Week In Film: 3/8/2009-3/14/2009

The second week in my "A Week in Film" series has passed, and looking back on it I think it is safe to label it the official week of onscreen penis. Dr. Manhattan's giant-CGI-blue one, Peter Bretter's average-sized-white one, and everywhere on screen: penis, penis, penis. It was like some Bizarro World to the 1980s' gratuitous use of breasts. If you have not already guessed, two of the films I watched this week were Watchmen (2009) and Forgetting Sarah Marshall (2008), two penis-filled films of mild enjoyment. For the complete list of this week's "A Week in Film" features read on... Penis.

Watchmen (2009, Zack Snyder)

I am not going to go into a full plot synopsis or even a drawn out review. Instead, I am opting to address one or two elements of the film, some parts that I liked, and a few more that I didn't. Here we go.

SPOILER ALERT!!
Let me preface this by saying that I am a big fan of the graphic novel. And, after seeing the film I believe director Zack Snyder did about all he could for the screen translation of Watchmen. That is he succeeded in transcribing the graphic novel from the pages to the screen, which is what I believe was his intention. However, there is a fundamental problem with this approach: the screen is not the page. This is most noticeable in the dialogue. Comic book lines don't transition well into dialogue. They often come across as hammy, over the top. This was a major criticism of Snyder's previous project 300 (2006). Yet, he doesn't seem to have learned from the criticism. Or, maybe he just doesn't care. Perhaps in both instances he made the films he wanted to make. In Watchmen, however, I think a greater flaw was in the editing of the dialogue, rather than its writing. In many instances the dialogue ran on for one-too-many lines. 

Case in point (and I apologize for paraphrasing, but I have no notes on the film): After The Comedian has just attacked a crowd of citizens, Nite Owl asks him something to the tune of "What happened to us?" The Comedian responds, "The American dream, the people got it. It's me." Here, the dialogue is fine. A little hokey, but all in all, fine. But he continues, "I'm the American dream." Oh!! And you lost me. We got it. You didn't have to reiterate. What's that you say? That's just nitpicking, one line in an entire film. You want further proof? 

Example number two: Dr. Manhattan and Laurie Jupiter are on Mars. He has mentally sent her back in time to when she was a child. Laurie discovers during this flashback that The Comedian, the man who once tried to rape her mother is in fact her father. She is the product of her mother's "weakness" for The Comedian some years later. We pull back to the present. Laurie is now in tears. Dr. Manhattan looks at her. He says, "You see. The Comedian is your father." No shit Dr. Manhattan! You don't say. We just spent eight minutes in a flashback, the whole purpose of which to reveal this fact. But, we just couldn't put it together without you saying it. Are we really so stupid that we would forget a major reveal within the span of literally ten to twenty seconds. Dumb! Now I have to stop writing about these moments. They're starting to make me angry. I think it's about time I mention something positive. 

Probably the best part of the entire film was the opening montage of superhero history set to Bob Dylan's "The Times Are A-Changin'." This bit is great. The song sets the mood; the images look great and work perfectly with the song. All in all a nice bit of cinema and one of the best openings to a film I've seen in a long time. With that said, the incorporation of classic time-piece songs into the film quickly went awry. By the time Simon and Garfunkel's "The Sounds of Silence" rang out over The Comedian's funeral scene, it was all down hill.

I don't want this to sound as if I completely hated the film. There were some great little fight sequences complete with the slow-mo to sped-up transitioning photography that Snyder perfected in 300. And every scene with Rorchach was great, especially the stuff in prison. His mini speech to the other inmates in the prison: "None of you understand. I'm not locked up in her with you. You're locked up in here with me!" were just as badass as they were in the book. In the end, though, Watchmen is just a slightly better than average action film. The audience is kept at arms length. The story is interesting, the film looks great, but there is no attempt to bridge an emotional connection to any of the characters. Plus Dr. Manhattan's penis is a constant distraction. I don't think I will normally attach a rating to the films I write about in these "A Week In Film" sections, but my buddy John's rating of C+ seems to have hit the nail on the head. Not terrible, not great. Just slightly better than average. 

Forgetting Sarah Marshall 

(2008, Nicholas Stoller)

A quick summary of Forgetting Sarah Marshall: Two very attractive women, two rather unattractive men, and an overabundance of Peter Bretter's wang. Some funny instances, but easily and ironically a forgettable film. 

In Bruges 

(2008, Martin McDonagh)

What can I say about In Bruges? Well, it was not at all what the trailer marketed it to be. It was a much more solemn film. There is none of the screwball comedy that is so desperately sutured into the trailer. Instead, it is a tale of two hitmen, depressed about a botched job. To tell the truth, there is not a lot to say about this picture, except that I wouldn't recommend it. 

So that's that. Week two summarized in two words: mediocrity and PENIS!

Image Sources:

Dr. Manhattan's Unit

Watchmen

Forgetting Sarah Marshall

In Bruges

 

A Week In Film: 3/1/2009-3/7/2009

Stella Dallas (1937, King Vidor)

Barbara Stanwyck and Barbara O'neil embrace as mother and daughter.

SPOILER ALERT!!

A surprisingly touching woman's film staring Barbara Stanwyck as the title character, Stella Dallas is the story of Stella, a common woman with dreams of higher status. Stella is infatuated with the handsomely uncommon plant manager Stephen Dallas (John Boles). A former New York entrepreneur, Stephen has fled his past life, money, and fiance to start anew in the small town Stella calls home. The two are quickly swept up in a whirlwind romance, resulting in marriage and daughter Laurel, eventually played by Anne Shirley.

Shortly thereafter, Stella reverts to her common ways restricting her high society elbow rubbing to the upper crust's more pedestrian members. In comes gambler-to-the-rich Ed Munn, a jovial drunkard with a volatile knack for pickin' the ponies. As Stella's desire to become one of the societal elites fades, so too does her relationship with Stephen. The years pass and Stephen is spending more and more time in New York, re-establishing himself as the successful businessman he once was and reconciling relations with his former fiance Helen (Barbara O'neil). Now he only returns to visit Laurel, who is growing in to an educated, refined young woman.

As time passes, Laurel becomes increasingly drawn to the affluent world of her father. Still, she never denies her mother, who is so obviously a pariah in the country club atmosphere to which Laurel has become accustomed. This is never more evident than in the scene at the soda shop. Laurel and her boyfriend arrive at the soda shop as their friends are amusedly recalling the antics of an embarrassingly out of place woman. This woman is, of course, Stella, parading around the country club in a gaudy number complete with white fox fur and shoes with bells on them. Laurel is panicked when she finds out this woman--who incidentally has just wandered into the soda shop--is her mother. She quickly fabricates a story about a missing ornament and flees from the shop before her mother notices her.

From this scene it may appear that Laurel has denied her mother, and maybe on some level she has, but we find that Laurel's fleeing from both the shop and the country club soon after are attempts to spare her mother the embarrassment of discovery. Discovery that she is not as refined as she thinks; that she is not as accepted as she thinks; that she is in fact the butt of the joke, the ducklings in a lake of swans. Despite Laurel's efforts, Stella discovers what has happened and is faced with the realization that as long as she is Laurel's mother, Laurel will never "belong."

One day Stella goes to visit Stephen's new love Helen (soon to be Helen Dallas). She asks Helen that if she concedes to a divorce, will Helen take Laurel on as her own. Taken back by the selflessness of Stella's request, she agrees. Of course when Laurel hears that she is to live with her father and Helen now, instead of her mother, she is flattered, but promptly declines the invitation. She could never leave her mother, her mother who raised her, who now needs her. Stella must again sacrifice. When Laurel arrives home, Stella plays that she is in love with the detested Ed Munn and is about to leave for Rio de Janiero to get married. It would appear that she no longer wants her daughter. Laurel returns to her father and Helen in tears, convinced that Stella's selfless act was in fact a selfish one.

The film culminates in a heart-wrenching-final scene: Stella is watching from the streets as her daughter gets married. A police officer is attempting to usher her away from the window. "Please. Let me see her face when he kisses her," she begs. Stella watches the kiss; she is moved along, a smile slowly stretching its way across her face. Her sacrifice was not in vein; her great dream passed along to her child. A tragically happy ending.

As I wrote before, this was a surprisingly touching film. Barbara Stanwyck steals every scene. Yet O'neil is also quite good. And the two play off each other splendidly, resulting in some of the most endearing scenes in the film. Beyond the acting, the costuming is well thought out. The motif of accouterments versus classic plainness is one of the strongest and smartest indicators of status in the film. If you have not seen Stella Dallas, I highly recommend it. And, I apologize for spoiling the plot.

Sahara (1943, Zoltan Korda)

Humphrey Bogart and his motley crew of international infantry men plot their stand against the Nazi juggernaut.

I won't say much about Sahara. Only that if you are a Bogie fan, or would like to be, this is the film for you. Bogie has the traditional coolness that marks many of his more popular roles with a more readily noticeable compassion, that is often masked at the onset of other films. Sahara is a WWII buddy war film set in the Sahara Desert. Although it is often considered an American propaganda film, it's the kind of propaganda I can get behind. I mean the entire Allied forces embodied in 11 men, even an Axis buddy (the Italian convert Giuseppe), and a single American tank named Lulubelle verses 500 of the Third Reich's finest. Does that not sound good? Definitely worth a viewing.

That's all folks. My first "A Week in Film" posting complete. I hope this inspired some of you to expand your cinematic repertoire. One week, two great films. Not a bad start.

Picture Sources:

Stella Dallas: Barbara Stanwyck and Barbara O'neil embrace as mother and daughter.

Sahara: Humphrey Bogart and his motley crew of international infantry men plot their stand against the Nazi juggernaut.

A Week In Film

This is a new feature that I am trying out. The basic premise is as follows. At the moment I can only fit in a few films a week. Why not talk about them? So that's what I plat to do. Most of my entries, I assume, will be short descriptions about the films (pretty much plot summaries), but if the mood strikes me, and presuming that I have the time, I foresee critiques, reviews, and other personal insights, as well. So, that's that. On to the movies.

The Rise of Joker: A Look at Character Placement and Movement in Batman

So, finally, here is my first post. It is a paper that looks at Tim Burton's use of composition in his 1989 film Batman. Please, read, enjoy, and respond if the mood strikes you.


The Rise of Joker: A Look at Character Placement and Movement in Batman

In this paper, I will analyze Tim Burton’s use of composition in his 1989 film Batman. I will focus on the placement of characters, as well as their movements, within the frame, with the goal of proving how these elements help to portray shifts in the power and mental states of those depicted.


Jack v. Grissom: A Shift in Power

The first scene showing Jack and Grissom together, takes place in Grissom’s office, where Jack, Grissom, and other goons are meeting to discuss lowly activities. In this scene Grissom is the highest of all six subjects and is centered in the frame. This is an indication of his stature as the crime boss of Gotham City. Jack is almost the lowest in the frame of the subjects, tucked into the lower, right corner. He is the only subject located screen right of Grissom, a recurrence that can be attributed to his position as second in command. Later in this scene, when Jack and Grissom share the frame together, in a two-shot, Grissom is higher in the frame, so much so that Jack has to look up at him. Jack is again screen right to Grissom, which enforces the statement made by Grissom of Jack being his “number one guy”, a position equated with the right, such is the term right-hand man.

The next scene, in which Grissom and Jack share the frame, comes in Grissom’s death scene. In this scene Jack, who reveals his transformation into Joker, and Grissom do not typically share the frame in the same manner as they did in the first scene discussed. Instead, Burton uses a shot-reverse-shot editing structure, wherein, for the majority of the scene, only one of the characters is present in frame at any given time. In this scene, comprised of twenty-eight total shots, only six show the two ever sharing the frame, and only three of these shots are long enough for the audience to gather information of subject placement.

The first of these three shots is an over the shoulder shot which places Grissom higher in the frame, but slightly off center occupying the left side of the frame. Jack/Joker is lower in the frame, also slightly off center, but occupying the space in the right of the frame. This reinforces the power dominance of Grissom, as well as the old roll of Jack as the right-hand man.
The second shot is a reverse over the shoulder, this time placing Jack/Joker higher in the frame, while still keeping him screen right of Grissom. This shift in subject placement, which places Jack/Joker higher in the frame than Grissom, indicates the point of shifting power, reinforced by the onscreen actions of Joker, who literally steps forward to seize control.
Their final shared shot comes with Grissom dead in his chair, while the Joker looms over him, laughing. Here all that can be seen of Grissom are his legs and a single hand, which occupy the left side of the frame. The Joker again occupies the right side of the frame, by far the highest in frame of the two subjects. Joker’s position as Gotham’s new kingpin is established.


Joker and Bob: A Shift in Psychology

In the scene introducing Jack, we also see his right-hand man, a thug by the name of Bob. In this relationship Jack is the dominating character; Bob is subservient to his needs. When Jack needs protection, Bob is literally at his side with gun drawn. This relationship, much like the relationship between Jack and Grissom discussed above, utilizes the organization of characters within the frame. This part of the study, which will focus on the relationship between Joker and Bob, is not necessarily one of power. Although there are definitely underlining tones of power distribution, these scenes address more the flux in Joker’s mental state throughout the film. In this instance, Jack is strong, both powerfully and mentally. He has set an ultimate goal, that being his eventual ascent into the position as Gotham’s kingpin, a seat held at this point by his boss, Grissom.

Looking structurally at the frames of this introductory scene, we can see how these ideas are reinforced by the frame’s arrangement. The first shot of Jack and Bob is an extreme long shot. Both Jack and Bob are placed within the lower half of the frame. Neither fall within the center, but, instead, are placed slightly off center, screen left. This askew, low placement in the frame helps to establish these two characters as lowly criminals, part of the underbelly of society. The right half of the frame is cluttered with shadows and garbage, making a parallel between the subjects and the disgusting, dark objects that surround them.

With these associations now established, we also see that, although neither of the subjects is centered, Jack is much more centered than Bob. Also, he is the highest subject within the frame, despite the fact that the top of his hat only extends to the horizontal center of the frame. Jack is structurally portrayed as the dominating figure. In the next shot shared by the pair, Jack is again slightly off center, this time screen left, but is significantly higher in the frame than Bob. Their final shared shot has Jack once more as the highest subject in the frame. This time, however, he is perfectly centered, dissuading any lingering doubts of his power or mental capacity, which might have resulted from the progression of the scene’s action and/or dialogue.
Following Jack’s transformation into Joker, he is seen in a surgery office accompanied by the surgeon, who is helping to reconstruct his face. In this scene, Joker is centered within the frame in order to draw the attention of the audience to his figure, despite the fact that he all but silhouetted and his back is turned towards us. The surgeon is located off center, slightly screen right of Joker, and is higher in the frame. By comparison Joker is low. This belittling of his screen position helps to illustrate his diminished mental state and stature. It is only when Joker fully completes his transformation, cackle and all, that he raises from the chair and ascends the staircase, bringing him to the top of the screen, positioning himself as the higher of the two subjects. This is a visual cue, which alerts us, the audience, that Jack is now fully transformed into Joker, and has set off to seize his rightful place at the top.

This association, with Joker’s placement below others coinciding with scenes of weakened mental sates, can be seen again and again throughout the course of the film.
Before exploring further, though, it must be noted that Joker is an eccentric character prone to sudden changes in demeanor. This notion has already been established by the scene previously discussed, but continues to be relayed in additional scenes involving Joker and Bob.

The first of these additional scenes comes after Joker has established himself as the head crime boss of Gotham, having killed off all his rivals. He is watching a news broadcast coving the death of his latest victim, when the reporter interjects a question concerning the Batman. At this instant Joker is aggravated, having lost his press to Batman. This is the first time Joker feels failure, and as a result a short stint of depression occurs. In this scene Joker is positioned off center, screen left. Positioned directly in the center and higher in the frame is Bob. Their variance in screen positioning, gives Bob the position of power. As this is a scene, which depicts Joker’s depression at having lost his press, as well as an implied boredom, a result of having achieved his goal as the unrivalled boss of Gotham, it shows the decline in Joker’s mental stability. The positioning of the two subjects is so, that, after stating his grievance over the news broadcast, Joker must look up towards Bob in a search for inspiration as to his next goal. As if Bob was his muse, Joker resolves to establish himself as the world’s first psychopathic artist. Whereas his previous goal was motivated by greed and power, this next one is an exploration of his own insanity.

The next scene, involving Joker, has him cutting up pictures of his victims ad nauseam, dwelling in his own twisted psychosis. Bob comes along and presents him with the photographs he asked Bob to take. Bob, Joker’s long time partner in crime is the only other character present in this scene. Again Bob is higher in the frame than Joker, indicating Joker’s diminished mental state. Also, the fact that only Bob is featured in these scenes, in which Joker is truly letting himself be overcome by insanity, expresses the closeness of the pair. Inspired one more time, this time by his suddenly discovered “love” for reporter Vicki Vale, Burton has Joker rise to the top of the frame, pulling him from this manic state of cutting and placing him, once again, in a position of power.

Finally, Burton uses an inverted arrangement of this formula to express Joker’s descent from victory, in the parade scene. This scene opens with Joker atop a float being paraded down a crowded street. He is dispersing money to the masses in accordance with his plan of gassing the citizens of Gotham. His position atop the float places himself high above any other subject with in the frame. He is at his greatest point of superiority, knowing what is in store for his victims, and feeling as if Batman will be unable to stop him. But, after Batman has stolen his balloons, the source of the poison gas, Joker is struck with a blow of defeat. Here, Burton has Joker lower himself from his seat high above the crowd and his lackeys. Whereas he was formally high in the frame, now Joker is lowered, to at best equal to the other subjects around him, but lower than many. This is the point where Joker shoots Bob, ending their relationship and marking the beginning of his ultimate demise.


Conclusion

In the approach of this paper’s first section, we, as an audience, see how placement within the frame can indicate power, and relay the varying statuses of characters in a film. In the second section, we see this same technique used again to present the power held by Jack Napier, but when compared to other scenes within a film, this use of character placement can take on a deeper meaning, relaying not only power and status, but mental state as well.


--Michael Thielvoldt, 2006