Contempt-“A Cloud of Unawareness” David Brown
4/21/09
Seminar in Cin.
In the film Contempt, it seems that the love triangle between Camille (Brigitte Bardot) Paul (Michel Piccoli) and Jeremy (Jack Palance) is a subtle metaphor for the decaying film industry. In this film Godard equates failed filmmaking with a failed relationship. He also notes how the two inevitably intercede to destroy one another. It’s almost as if Godard is stating to the audience that films are so contemptible because no one examines in close detail the production aspects that mare a production; just as no one learns from past filmmaker’s mistakes. Godard’s critical stance against passive audiences who merely are indifferent is that they should be indignant towards flawed filmmaking. His feeling is that audiences, and filmmakers, have to study why a production went wrong in much the same way that relationships go wrong. If people are so hungry for the latest tabloid gossip, in terms of what infidelities are going on in the film world, surely they can be as interested on how these celebrities affect the productions that they are in; many times by the infidelities that they are having. (The casting of Brigitte Bardot is perfect, because at that time she was the tabloid goddess.)
Godard’s study of why a production falters stems from the confines of Jeremy’s (the producer’s) way of making a movie, which involves usury and lying. The great amounts of usury and lying on Jeremy’s part actually makes everyone who has to be intrinsically involved with his production have a mistaken view of reality, which ultimately makes that individual lose their integrity. This process begins with Paul’s being bind to the production by signing a contract to do the film; any protestation on Paul’s part will be flawed and illogical because he’s binded by the contract. When Lang, the personal artist, mentions the importance of culture, Jeremy states: “When I deal with culture I get out my checkbook.” Jeremy’s checkbook is his way of eradicating personal vision. Once Jeremy writes out that check, it becomes much easier for Paul to follow Jeremy’s orders.
Jeremy’s rationale for hiring Paul is so he can obtain his wife from him. Really, that is Paul’s job on this movie; no wonder he loses his integrity. He begins to lose his artistic creativity and begins to get distracted. Camille talks about this in a digression about the man who got distracted by an ass; this is in reference to Paul’s being distracted by his suspicions that Camille is sleeping with another man. This is all Jeremy’s fault, which is just another representation of Jeremy’s power in destroying artistic creativity/relationships.
It seems that Godard is arguing that the main creators on the film sets involved with big productions always intrinsically lose their personal vision because they try to mimic, in order to impress, the big hotshot producer producing the international enterprise. It’s almost as if Paul is not consciously aware that he slowly is resembling Jeremy more and more. He’s becoming the vulgar creative male personality, and this is represented by his wearing of that hat throughout the film, and by how he treats women. The audience is aware that this man used to have integrity. Yet, the audience never sees the true Paul in this film. In some strange way, Godard (and Camille) are criticizing Paul more than anyone else in this film because he is the French artist with integrity that sells out. At least Jeremy is consistent in his vulgarity.
There really is no basis on the producer’s part for making a solid production of the story of Odysseus; it might as well be titled what Camille calls it: the movie about the guy that swims. Camille should not be criticized for her indifference to art. After all, Paul’s definition of art is looking at old artwork and finding the nudity stimulating. He trashes antiquity by hitting the ancient nude female object in the flat in the private parts. This is a metaphor for the old dying way for making movies being destroyed by artist’s distraction with mundane sexual affairs. It’s almost as if the artist becoming a crass individual (Paul becoming Jeremy) destroys a filmmaker like Lang’s control over his personal vision.
Camille wants to escape from this barbarity by becoming indifferent to the processes of art. In one scene in a movie theatre, Jeremy finds it intriguing that Camille has no opinion on what should be done about the production. The camera then pans over to Camille’s face as she indifferently watches the screen with the rest of the audience. She wants nothing to do with this production; hence, she has an indifference towards movies and moviemaking.
Camille is a tragic character because she can’t love Paul anymore. She’s well aware that Paul is losing his independence and whoring for the industry. She’s also well aware that he’s the ultimate hypocrite because he wants Camille to remain the way she was, i.e., in love with him. However, he’s not the same man anymore. Camille has an indifference to filmmaking not because she’s vain or lacks integrity, but because the process is so destructive towards relationships. Camille could very well be a metaphor for the indifferent film audience that Godard has empathy with yet criticizes. He has empathy for Camille/the indifferent film audience because they are powerless, yet he also criticizes them because they don’t properly get out of their situation. In a scene in the flat, Camille deplores to Paul that she won’t go meet him and Jeremy (at this point in the film the two sexist prigs); yet she moves around in circles and keeps repeating the line, almost as if she were trapped. She eventually does go meet them.
This sense of constrictedness (and of the main characters being trapped in the confines of Jeremy’s will) is felt in the tiny flats in the film. I find it ironic and humorous that these “fancy” flats that everyone sells their souls to live in are so constricting and unpleasant. This is a representation of Jeremy’s deceitful nature. It appears to these characters that once they sell their soul to Jeremy they will have free will over their lives; that selling their soul is all in the name of making a movie. A perfect representation of this: When Paul is typing away at the script, Camille walks under a ladder, which is a symbol of bad luck.
The way in which the camera constantly moves horizontally from left to right or right to left resembles, in many ways, a tennis match between the figures in the frame. It’s ironic that the people involved in a big production like this can never connect; how are they supposed to have their film connect with their audience in anyway? Their situation is so deplorable that all they can do is fight at one another. Camille’s going with Jeremy at the end of the film is her way of escaping from this constricting area, where everyone’s losing their integrity and individuality.
In the next to final scene in the movie, Godard continues to employ his visual indication of the contradictory nature of Camille. Jeremy’s vulgar red car color matches his sweater perfectly. This man will never change in anyway. Yet, Camille’s sweater in the scene is blue. The color contrasts against Jeremy’s vulgarity; yet Camille is losing her will against this man. Once the truck hits the car and kills the two, their bodies are facing against one another. If these two had not had the language barrier to obstruct conversation, they would have been the ones arguing in the film. Yet, on a multinational production such as this, it’s the people who speak the same language that have contempt for one another. This is the ultimate tragedy in Godard’s eyes. His feeling is that similar cultures (represented by Camille and Paul) should band together (or in Camille and Paul’s case, stay in their relationship), and make films together (like the New Wave group) and not lose their vision just to receive a higher budget for their production. (In the case of Camille and Paul, they should have never been won over by Jeremy.)
Camille’s only escape from Jeremy’s will (almost as if he were an evil creature out of Greek myth) is through death. The shot before the accident, showing Jeremy’s driving very rapidly from the left side of the frame to the right side of the frame, is very similar to the shot where Paul violently pulls Camille, once they have left Jeremy’s villa. Paul’s violent movement, in order to get him and Camille out of the presence of Jeremy and his production, is an example of Paul’s violent protestation against Jeremy’s way of making movies. Yet, Paul’s movement is ultimately rapt, and intense to the point of dissipation. The same sorts of movements happen when Paul becomes violent towards Camille, in the flat. Camille’s rapt decision to leave Paul also ends through violence. These protestations of Jeremy’s way of doing business are faulty, because once Paul signs that contract to write the script for the film (just as Camille decides to get in that car with Jeremy), both of them are ensnared in the confines of Jeremy’s will; escaping that will ultimately proves fatal for both of them. The rapid escape that both characters try to attempt in this movie is the delusion from the truth that Lang (the old pro who’s used to this way of making movies) does not believe in. Lang’s sentiment is felt in one of his last lines at the end of the film: “One has to begin what one starts.”It’s interesting that Contempt was the only high budget multinational film that Godard ever made, and yet this is the film that represents his stance against high budget multinational filmmaking. Perhaps Godard’s reflexive way in which to tell a story is the best way in which to write a critique against the film industry, because it allowed him to experience the situation firsthand. The fact that Godard kept his integrity throughout the filming of Contempt was his way of signaling to other filmmaker’s that there is indeed hope in the film industry; one has to be merely wary of the situation and not give in easily.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The Simplest Means
David Brown
3/24/09
Seminar in Cinema Studies
Surrealism is one of the most interesting qualities inherently used to great effect in certain films. It’s that slightly off feeling in a Lynch film or a Bunel film that gives an audience member a sense that they have been witnessing a strange view of reality; an almost dream like view that lacks conventional dramatic structure and logic. Perhaps these filmmakers learned a thing or two from one of the greatest surreal directors: Jean Cocteau. Cocteau was a playwright, and therefore knew more about dramatic structure than Bunel or Lynch. However, this didn’t mean that his films were not unconventional. I’d argue that the best way to depart from convention is to first know how to properly tell a conventional story, and then completely imbue that story with unconventional traits. These traits would not seem arbitrary in the slightest, because they would naturally be contingent upon the story being told on screen. For instance, in Jean Cocteau’s Orpheus (1949), even though it doesn’t necessarily make conventional sense that Orphee (Jean Marais) can’t look at his wife Eurydice (Marie Dea) or else she will die, it seems to not be an arbitrary element in anyway extrinsic from the story either. I can’t think of many other filmmakers who posses that quality of surrealism. It’s no wonder that Cocteau is termed a classical avant-gardist.
Possibly, the elements in Orpheus fit so well in place because the movie is based on the classic Greek myth of Orpheus, and how he lost Eurydice. However, Cocteau has elaborated on that myth in adding the final section involving Orphee’s second chance at getting Eurydice back from the dead. The one stipulation is that Orphee is not allowed to look at her ever again; if he does she dies for good. Cocteau takes this dramatic scenario that should be depressing, and makes it comic. This is highly strange thematically for a dramatist to do, because it’s not the normal route for a story like this to take. It’s comic because both parties decide to continue to live with one another. It gets to the point where Heurtebise (Francois Périer), death’s chauffeur of all people, has to constantly remind Orphee to be careful about staring into the mirror, for fear that he will see his wife. (This could be construed as a metaphor for a marriage falling apart, considering that Orphee is falling in love with Death (María Casares).) However, all of this is made comic rather than tragic, and this is an example of Cocteau’s genius. As a filmmaker, he takes his pretentious artistic ideas and magically makes them unpretentious. This feat is a major moment in art. It’s almost as if a Bohemian avant garde artist finally figured out dramatic construction and consequently had no more stumbling blocks in which to trip over.
At some moments, Orpheus resembles a surreal marital comedy. I think the juxtaposition of these elements works because the film has a structure in which to base its wild ramblings on. I’m sure Cocteau wanted to experiment with juxtapositions of surrealism and normality or banality for this film. In order to do that successfully, Cocteau had to have some kind of structure for his dream like film, or else it wouldn’t make any sense to an audience; and what better structure is there other than the Greek myths?
I think the other element that makes Orpheus such an effective surreal film is the fact that it has such a low budget. Usually, one would presume that a low budget would limit a filmmaker from being creative, particularly if their film has many special effects in it. It appears that nothing daunted Cocteau. If anything, he was probably spurred on by having a limited budget. The constrictions probably allowed Cocteau to experiment in highly unconventional ways, and this fit his unconventional avant garde style. For instance, no filmmaker would ever think of showing the entrance to another dimension by simply putting two people in reverse when they walk. However, this effect works, particularly since it’s in slow motion. This effect is what makes the film dream like; it’s not simply an effect because its adds to the movie’s premise. The same could be said for showing Orphee leap into and out of the mirror in order to get to the other dimension, or the way in which he enters through the mirror (Cocteau uses a water effect.) There’s a statement being made in that special effect, and that is that one doesn’t know which side of the mirror is more real. We all could be living in a non-real universe, and the reflection of that reality could be the real reality. (It seems that The Matrix used this idea as well.) Thank heavens Cocteau doesn’t state this pretentious idea outright; it’s merely hidden in the film. It’s this element of grace and ease with which Cocteau presents his ideas, almost as if they were hidden away in special effects, that is truly commendable. He makes the artistic process look as easy as a skip and a frolic, and this is what is lacking from a Lynch or a Bunel.
There’s a line in Orpheus where at the beginning of the film, Orphee says to Heurtebise, “Astonish me!” That’s Cocteau’s way of showing the relationship between the artist and his audience, and how an artist first and foremost is a type of ring master, and not a deep intellectual thinker. (That part for Cocteau came second.) An artist, in Cocteau’s estimation had to truly pleasure an audience, and he correctly learned that one doesn’t do this by simply making deep statements about society. Doing so would show one’s limitations, particularly one’s lack of a budget. Rather, Cocteau felt that filmmaker’s have to primarily dazzle their audience, especially visually. This working method is an example of what separates Cocteau from other low budget filmmaker’s and artists with lack of funds. Cocteau felt that one has to find a way to make their audience enthralled, or else there is no point in showing their vision to an audience. In other words, he felt that an artist should not be daunted in anyway; if an artist is talented he can accomplish anything. This is the magic element of Cocteau’s working process. He makes everything he does look so effortless. His film Orpheus is an example of pulling a rabbit out of the hat. Transposing a Greek myth to French Parisian life in the 40’s is a daunting task enough. However, doing this on a limited budget is even more daunting, and yet Cocteau pulls off the miracle.
3/24/09
Seminar in Cinema Studies
Surrealism is one of the most interesting qualities inherently used to great effect in certain films. It’s that slightly off feeling in a Lynch film or a Bunel film that gives an audience member a sense that they have been witnessing a strange view of reality; an almost dream like view that lacks conventional dramatic structure and logic. Perhaps these filmmakers learned a thing or two from one of the greatest surreal directors: Jean Cocteau. Cocteau was a playwright, and therefore knew more about dramatic structure than Bunel or Lynch. However, this didn’t mean that his films were not unconventional. I’d argue that the best way to depart from convention is to first know how to properly tell a conventional story, and then completely imbue that story with unconventional traits. These traits would not seem arbitrary in the slightest, because they would naturally be contingent upon the story being told on screen. For instance, in Jean Cocteau’s Orpheus (1949), even though it doesn’t necessarily make conventional sense that Orphee (Jean Marais) can’t look at his wife Eurydice (Marie Dea) or else she will die, it seems to not be an arbitrary element in anyway extrinsic from the story either. I can’t think of many other filmmakers who posses that quality of surrealism. It’s no wonder that Cocteau is termed a classical avant-gardist.
Possibly, the elements in Orpheus fit so well in place because the movie is based on the classic Greek myth of Orpheus, and how he lost Eurydice. However, Cocteau has elaborated on that myth in adding the final section involving Orphee’s second chance at getting Eurydice back from the dead. The one stipulation is that Orphee is not allowed to look at her ever again; if he does she dies for good. Cocteau takes this dramatic scenario that should be depressing, and makes it comic. This is highly strange thematically for a dramatist to do, because it’s not the normal route for a story like this to take. It’s comic because both parties decide to continue to live with one another. It gets to the point where Heurtebise (Francois Périer), death’s chauffeur of all people, has to constantly remind Orphee to be careful about staring into the mirror, for fear that he will see his wife. (This could be construed as a metaphor for a marriage falling apart, considering that Orphee is falling in love with Death (María Casares).) However, all of this is made comic rather than tragic, and this is an example of Cocteau’s genius. As a filmmaker, he takes his pretentious artistic ideas and magically makes them unpretentious. This feat is a major moment in art. It’s almost as if a Bohemian avant garde artist finally figured out dramatic construction and consequently had no more stumbling blocks in which to trip over.
At some moments, Orpheus resembles a surreal marital comedy. I think the juxtaposition of these elements works because the film has a structure in which to base its wild ramblings on. I’m sure Cocteau wanted to experiment with juxtapositions of surrealism and normality or banality for this film. In order to do that successfully, Cocteau had to have some kind of structure for his dream like film, or else it wouldn’t make any sense to an audience; and what better structure is there other than the Greek myths?
I think the other element that makes Orpheus such an effective surreal film is the fact that it has such a low budget. Usually, one would presume that a low budget would limit a filmmaker from being creative, particularly if their film has many special effects in it. It appears that nothing daunted Cocteau. If anything, he was probably spurred on by having a limited budget. The constrictions probably allowed Cocteau to experiment in highly unconventional ways, and this fit his unconventional avant garde style. For instance, no filmmaker would ever think of showing the entrance to another dimension by simply putting two people in reverse when they walk. However, this effect works, particularly since it’s in slow motion. This effect is what makes the film dream like; it’s not simply an effect because its adds to the movie’s premise. The same could be said for showing Orphee leap into and out of the mirror in order to get to the other dimension, or the way in which he enters through the mirror (Cocteau uses a water effect.) There’s a statement being made in that special effect, and that is that one doesn’t know which side of the mirror is more real. We all could be living in a non-real universe, and the reflection of that reality could be the real reality. (It seems that The Matrix used this idea as well.) Thank heavens Cocteau doesn’t state this pretentious idea outright; it’s merely hidden in the film. It’s this element of grace and ease with which Cocteau presents his ideas, almost as if they were hidden away in special effects, that is truly commendable. He makes the artistic process look as easy as a skip and a frolic, and this is what is lacking from a Lynch or a Bunel.
There’s a line in Orpheus where at the beginning of the film, Orphee says to Heurtebise, “Astonish me!” That’s Cocteau’s way of showing the relationship between the artist and his audience, and how an artist first and foremost is a type of ring master, and not a deep intellectual thinker. (That part for Cocteau came second.) An artist, in Cocteau’s estimation had to truly pleasure an audience, and he correctly learned that one doesn’t do this by simply making deep statements about society. Doing so would show one’s limitations, particularly one’s lack of a budget. Rather, Cocteau felt that filmmaker’s have to primarily dazzle their audience, especially visually. This working method is an example of what separates Cocteau from other low budget filmmaker’s and artists with lack of funds. Cocteau felt that one has to find a way to make their audience enthralled, or else there is no point in showing their vision to an audience. In other words, he felt that an artist should not be daunted in anyway; if an artist is talented he can accomplish anything. This is the magic element of Cocteau’s working process. He makes everything he does look so effortless. His film Orpheus is an example of pulling a rabbit out of the hat. Transposing a Greek myth to French Parisian life in the 40’s is a daunting task enough. However, doing this on a limited budget is even more daunting, and yet Cocteau pulls off the miracle.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Night Of the Living Dead
I love George Romero's Horror films. Here's a director that not only has great talent at scaring an audience, but also is very politically oriented in the Horror visions that he's showing an audience. What Romero depicts in his films is his prescient fears concerning the direction that this country is headed in. What better way to show those fears then in a Horror film? The Horror framework allows Romero to make his political statements acute to an audience.
His films are not didactic in anyway. Rather, Romero’s films serve as great entertainment. His films are successful attempts at properly scaring an audience, and then making that audience think for a change. It's the interim moments of making an audience squirm where Romero utilizes his social commentary on a given situation. He has a given system of shocking an audience into expectancy and then sharing his criticisms of American existence to that audience. Romero has been well aware since he made his first film The Night of the Living Dead, that the Horror framework hooks an audience member towards the director's argument. An audience member is never bored in a Romero film upon seeing acts of American consumerism, or American sexism, ect. Rather, the audience is experiencing the director's thesis viscerally.
Night of the Living Dead is a masterful Horror film because of the simplicity in which events occur in the movie. For instance, the plot of the film falls into place very easily, which ultimately makes the implications of the film very realistic. The movie doesn’t announce itself in anyway like most Horror films. It begins very innocently, and then thematically becomes more terrifying as day turns into night and more and more zombies start appearing. This structure is highly realistic for a Horror film mainly because so little happens. There isn’t much of a plot or explanation as to why the dead are coming back to life. The television broadcasters are as befuddled as the characters trapped in the house. This attitude of confusion creates a realistic sense of a panic stricken culture. Usually in Horror films, even after the main characters learn why something is the way it is, they still are panicking. In Night of The Living Dead, no one has any answers. This is what makes the film have an authentic sense of dread.
Romero’s political statements in this film are actually very general. Yes, of course, the film deals with the concept of racism. However, the overall arching question that Romero posits to the audience is, what leads to racism? Romero’s answer is a nervous culture. Acute nervousness, in Romero’s eyes, leads to ineffectualness and mental lack of clarity. This is no more apparent then in the actions of Harry Cooper (Karl Hardman), who gets many of the main characters killed in the film. He is so wound up by the onslaught of the zombies outside that he becomes the metaphor for the crazed alarmist culture that Romero fears American citizens are becoming. (The informative tv doesn’t help his state in anyway.) In the movie, he constantly berates Ben (Duane Jones), and yet Ben is right in stating that no one should hide in the basement. Cooper’s lack of mental clarity is what is making him make all the wrong selfish decisions. It’s ironic, and somewhat humorous, that Cooper is trying to protect his daughter, and yet she is a zombie. The zombie metaphor is Romero’s way of addressing his concerns over society’s becoming a brainless culture.
Really, Night of the Living Dead is the ultimate example of the effectiveness of nondescriptness; of having a low budget and using unknown actors. These elements simply make the film creepier. As stated before, the film doesn’t announce itself like other Horror films. It doesn’t initially appear phantasmagorical in terms of its look. Rather, the film has a realistic appearance of nondescriptness; especially the opening cemetery scene. The Horror elements, like the sociological elements, creep up on the audience. The setting of Pittsburgh helps. Here’s a sleepy city basically reawakened by zombies. It’s a city rarely shown in movies; an unknown territory that makes the film have a more original look. If only young Horror filmmakers learned Romero’s attributes! They should try their hand at black and white sometime. Young Horror filmmakers should also come up with original ideas that have something to do with their feelings on society. The Horror framework, as evidenced by Night of the Living Dead, is the perfect framework in which to do so. These young filmmaker’s wouldn’t even have to switch genres in order to make more “serious” socially conscious “message” movies.It’s amazing to consider that Romero already established his directorial style in his first film. For instance, when Ben (Duane Jones) relates to Barbara (Judith O’Dea) about how he felt terrified and powerless upon first encountering the zombies, his soliloquy, as it were, is being told to her just after a frightening moment occurred in the film. Ben’s soliloquy is political in nature. The zombies that Ben mentions are representations of white racist men who set out to kill black men. I feel that the implications that these zombies are brainless individuals, is a statement on Romero’s part, in relation to how murdering racists are not intelligent individuals. Is it a coincidence that the human pact that “accidentally” kills Ben at the end of the film, for fear that he’s a zombie, resembles the zombies in the movie? I think not. It’s Romero’s depiction of human hatred guised in human carelessness that makes Night of the Living Dead a truly terrifying movie.
His films are not didactic in anyway. Rather, Romero’s films serve as great entertainment. His films are successful attempts at properly scaring an audience, and then making that audience think for a change. It's the interim moments of making an audience squirm where Romero utilizes his social commentary on a given situation. He has a given system of shocking an audience into expectancy and then sharing his criticisms of American existence to that audience. Romero has been well aware since he made his first film The Night of the Living Dead, that the Horror framework hooks an audience member towards the director's argument. An audience member is never bored in a Romero film upon seeing acts of American consumerism, or American sexism, ect. Rather, the audience is experiencing the director's thesis viscerally.
Night of the Living Dead is a masterful Horror film because of the simplicity in which events occur in the movie. For instance, the plot of the film falls into place very easily, which ultimately makes the implications of the film very realistic. The movie doesn’t announce itself in anyway like most Horror films. It begins very innocently, and then thematically becomes more terrifying as day turns into night and more and more zombies start appearing. This structure is highly realistic for a Horror film mainly because so little happens. There isn’t much of a plot or explanation as to why the dead are coming back to life. The television broadcasters are as befuddled as the characters trapped in the house. This attitude of confusion creates a realistic sense of a panic stricken culture. Usually in Horror films, even after the main characters learn why something is the way it is, they still are panicking. In Night of The Living Dead, no one has any answers. This is what makes the film have an authentic sense of dread.
Romero’s political statements in this film are actually very general. Yes, of course, the film deals with the concept of racism. However, the overall arching question that Romero posits to the audience is, what leads to racism? Romero’s answer is a nervous culture. Acute nervousness, in Romero’s eyes, leads to ineffectualness and mental lack of clarity. This is no more apparent then in the actions of Harry Cooper (Karl Hardman), who gets many of the main characters killed in the film. He is so wound up by the onslaught of the zombies outside that he becomes the metaphor for the crazed alarmist culture that Romero fears American citizens are becoming. (The informative tv doesn’t help his state in anyway.) In the movie, he constantly berates Ben (Duane Jones), and yet Ben is right in stating that no one should hide in the basement. Cooper’s lack of mental clarity is what is making him make all the wrong selfish decisions. It’s ironic, and somewhat humorous, that Cooper is trying to protect his daughter, and yet she is a zombie. The zombie metaphor is Romero’s way of addressing his concerns over society’s becoming a brainless culture.
Really, Night of the Living Dead is the ultimate example of the effectiveness of nondescriptness; of having a low budget and using unknown actors. These elements simply make the film creepier. As stated before, the film doesn’t announce itself like other Horror films. It doesn’t initially appear phantasmagorical in terms of its look. Rather, the film has a realistic appearance of nondescriptness; especially the opening cemetery scene. The Horror elements, like the sociological elements, creep up on the audience. The setting of Pittsburgh helps. Here’s a sleepy city basically reawakened by zombies. It’s a city rarely shown in movies; an unknown territory that makes the film have a more original look. If only young Horror filmmakers learned Romero’s attributes! They should try their hand at black and white sometime. Young Horror filmmakers should also come up with original ideas that have something to do with their feelings on society. The Horror framework, as evidenced by Night of the Living Dead, is the perfect framework in which to do so. These young filmmaker’s wouldn’t even have to switch genres in order to make more “serious” socially conscious “message” movies.It’s amazing to consider that Romero already established his directorial style in his first film. For instance, when Ben (Duane Jones) relates to Barbara (Judith O’Dea) about how he felt terrified and powerless upon first encountering the zombies, his soliloquy, as it were, is being told to her just after a frightening moment occurred in the film. Ben’s soliloquy is political in nature. The zombies that Ben mentions are representations of white racist men who set out to kill black men. I feel that the implications that these zombies are brainless individuals, is a statement on Romero’s part, in relation to how murdering racists are not intelligent individuals. Is it a coincidence that the human pact that “accidentally” kills Ben at the end of the film, for fear that he’s a zombie, resembles the zombies in the movie? I think not. It’s Romero’s depiction of human hatred guised in human carelessness that makes Night of the Living Dead a truly terrifying movie.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Heat
Fastidious Crime
2/26/09 The main difference between the film Heat and other action or heist films is that Michael Mann’s film is much slower paced.
This is actually not a negative element in anyway. On the contrary, the fastidiousness on the filmmaker’s part adds to the tension in the movie. If the audience didn’t know all the details of the characters in the film’s lives, then they wouldn’t be able to understand the psychology of those characters. In other words, the audience wouldn’t be nervous for the characters well being. This is analogous to real life; we worry for the ones that we know and care about. The ingeniousness of the film comes out of the fact that Mann shows the audience, in great detail, both the lives of the LAPD police department and the group of criminals that they are going after. There’s an amazing lack of moral accusation on the part of Michael Mann, particularly for an action filmmaker, and this is because Mann likes to keep the situations in his films complex to the point of tension.
The film involves two groups: a sector of the LAPD Robbery-Homicide Division run by Lieutenant Vincent Hanna (Al Pacino), and a group of criminals run by Neil McCauley. These are not your typical cops and robbers. Both groups are the experts of what they do. This premise, devised by Michael Mann, is exciting because of the prospect of what would happen if the Homicide Division ran into these criminals. This is not Bonnie and Clyde; here both sides are true opponents. This ultimately makes it difficult for the audience to discern which side is going to win the fight. The film is like an elaborate boxing match; the audience decides who they want to root for. Mann does not disappoint; he builds on this basic idea by constantly introducing more and more story elements ultimately to create a basic tapestry of mid 90’s L.A., in terms of its crime and law element.
The film does not merely consist of an antagonistic fight; there’s psychology and complexity added to the equation as well. What’s startling in the film is how similar the two factions really are. What the audience sees in these two, and what ultimately
makes the action scenes in this film much more than mere action scenes, is that both Hanna and McCauley lead a very sad existence away from their “jobs”. They lead sad home lives because they love the thrill of what they do, and therefore, cannot truly get attached to their loved ones. Successfully carrying off a heist (McCauley) and capturing criminals (Hanna) is what they love. This element makes the action scenes thrilling for an audience member to witness, because for the longest time the film merely shows how miserable these characters lives really are. Therefore, the bank heist scene is cathartic for both the characters and the audience. (It’s one of the greatest moments in 90’s cinema.)
That and the scene between DeNiro and Pacino are breathtaking scenes. The heist is complex in terms of its editing and shot composition, whilst the conversation scene is very simple. It consists merely of cutting back and forth between over the shoulder shots of DeNiro and Pacino. The fact that these two acting titans are in a scene together is amazing enough. What makes the moment even better is that the movie these two appear in is rich and complex in its own right. Heat is not just an excuse to put these two in the same film. Heat would have been an interesting film without them. However, the fact that these two complement the movie in such a rich way adds wonders to Mann’s statement on the conflicted intermingling of law and crime. Both of these characters respect for one another (just as DeNiro and Pacino the actors respect one another) is an example of a conflicted relationship, because they have to ultimately hunt one another down (just as one actor has to compete with the other actor in terms of giving the better performance.) These two respect what they do more than anything else.
These two characters are very remote from the people around them, but they have to be in order to be successful at what they
do. As McCauley says to one of the men who works with him, by the name of Chris Shiherlis (Val Kilmer), “You wanna be making moves on the street, have no attachments. Allow nothing to be in your life that you can’t walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you spot the heat around the corner.” Hannah says something very similar when he states to his wife Justine (Diane Venora), in regards to his having to be detached emotionally, “I preserve it because it keeps me sharp, on the edge, where I need to be.” Yet, there is a subtle difference between those two sentences, and that’s apparent in the style in which they are delivered.
Because of his occupation, DeNiro’s character is more careful and restrained in his mannerisms, compared to Pacino’s character. (This creates a very fresh take on dialectical acting between the two titans.) This subtle difference between the two is
analogous to how Pacino’s character is moral, and DeNiro’s is not. It’s that subtle difference that creates the conflict between the two, and basically results in the premise of the movie.
That heat around the corner that DeNiro is talking about is what makes the film suspenseful. While watching the film, the audience knows in the back of their minds that these two will have a showdown. In its staid visual imagery and high concentration on the warrior’s code, Heat is very reminiscent of a Japanese Samurai film. The difference here is that these Samurai are in nicely fitted suits.
The suits are not the only components that make the film look breathtaking. There’s also the great cinematography by Dante Spinotti. He lights the DeNiro side of the story in a very different way from Pacino’s side of the story. McCauley’s nightmare, which he relates to Hannah, is that he’s drowning in his sleep. This is supposed to represent McCauley’s morality catching up to him. It’s his realization that his way of doing things is flawed. Spinotti lights DeNiro’s sections in a very crisp blue, almost as if the actor were drowning. Hannah tells McCauley that he has nightmares about sitting at a banquet table with all of the people that he could not save. This morbidity on Hannah’s part is reflected in the dark lighting that surrounds Pacino throughout the film. Both of these forms of lighting engulf the two actors/characters. It’s an aesthetic form of constriction; a metaphor for the lack of freedom that these two have because of the love for what they are talented at. This statement is really what the film is all about, and it wouldn’t be felt as acutely if it weren’t for the look of the film.
This is what makes Mann’s films so special, and what ultimately separates him from the amateurs. (The same could be said of DeNiro and Pancino’s acting. In fact, all of the acting is fascinating in the film.) It’s this kind of attention to detail that I miss from movies in this day and age.
2/26/09 The main difference between the film Heat and other action or heist films is that Michael Mann’s film is much slower paced.
This is actually not a negative element in anyway. On the contrary, the fastidiousness on the filmmaker’s part adds to the tension in the movie. If the audience didn’t know all the details of the characters in the film’s lives, then they wouldn’t be able to understand the psychology of those characters. In other words, the audience wouldn’t be nervous for the characters well being. This is analogous to real life; we worry for the ones that we know and care about. The ingeniousness of the film comes out of the fact that Mann shows the audience, in great detail, both the lives of the LAPD police department and the group of criminals that they are going after. There’s an amazing lack of moral accusation on the part of Michael Mann, particularly for an action filmmaker, and this is because Mann likes to keep the situations in his films complex to the point of tension.
The film involves two groups: a sector of the LAPD Robbery-Homicide Division run by Lieutenant Vincent Hanna (Al Pacino), and a group of criminals run by Neil McCauley. These are not your typical cops and robbers. Both groups are the experts of what they do. This premise, devised by Michael Mann, is exciting because of the prospect of what would happen if the Homicide Division ran into these criminals. This is not Bonnie and Clyde; here both sides are true opponents. This ultimately makes it difficult for the audience to discern which side is going to win the fight. The film is like an elaborate boxing match; the audience decides who they want to root for. Mann does not disappoint; he builds on this basic idea by constantly introducing more and more story elements ultimately to create a basic tapestry of mid 90’s L.A., in terms of its crime and law element.
The film does not merely consist of an antagonistic fight; there’s psychology and complexity added to the equation as well. What’s startling in the film is how similar the two factions really are. What the audience sees in these two, and what ultimatelymakes the action scenes in this film much more than mere action scenes, is that both Hanna and McCauley lead a very sad existence away from their “jobs”. They lead sad home lives because they love the thrill of what they do, and therefore, cannot truly get attached to their loved ones. Successfully carrying off a heist (McCauley) and capturing criminals (Hanna) is what they love. This element makes the action scenes thrilling for an audience member to witness, because for the longest time the film merely shows how miserable these characters lives really are. Therefore, the bank heist scene is cathartic for both the characters and the audience. (It’s one of the greatest moments in 90’s cinema.)
That and the scene between DeNiro and Pacino are breathtaking scenes. The heist is complex in terms of its editing and shot composition, whilst the conversation scene is very simple. It consists merely of cutting back and forth between over the shoulder shots of DeNiro and Pacino. The fact that these two acting titans are in a scene together is amazing enough. What makes the moment even better is that the movie these two appear in is rich and complex in its own right. Heat is not just an excuse to put these two in the same film. Heat would have been an interesting film without them. However, the fact that these two complement the movie in such a rich way adds wonders to Mann’s statement on the conflicted intermingling of law and crime. Both of these characters respect for one another (just as DeNiro and Pacino the actors respect one another) is an example of a conflicted relationship, because they have to ultimately hunt one another down (just as one actor has to compete with the other actor in terms of giving the better performance.) These two respect what they do more than anything else.
These two characters are very remote from the people around them, but they have to be in order to be successful at what theydo. As McCauley says to one of the men who works with him, by the name of Chris Shiherlis (Val Kilmer), “You wanna be making moves on the street, have no attachments. Allow nothing to be in your life that you can’t walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you spot the heat around the corner.” Hannah says something very similar when he states to his wife Justine (Diane Venora), in regards to his having to be detached emotionally, “I preserve it because it keeps me sharp, on the edge, where I need to be.” Yet, there is a subtle difference between those two sentences, and that’s apparent in the style in which they are delivered.
Because of his occupation, DeNiro’s character is more careful and restrained in his mannerisms, compared to Pacino’s character. (This creates a very fresh take on dialectical acting between the two titans.) This subtle difference between the two isanalogous to how Pacino’s character is moral, and DeNiro’s is not. It’s that subtle difference that creates the conflict between the two, and basically results in the premise of the movie.
That heat around the corner that DeNiro is talking about is what makes the film suspenseful. While watching the film, the audience knows in the back of their minds that these two will have a showdown. In its staid visual imagery and high concentration on the warrior’s code, Heat is very reminiscent of a Japanese Samurai film. The difference here is that these Samurai are in nicely fitted suits.
The suits are not the only components that make the film look breathtaking. There’s also the great cinematography by Dante Spinotti. He lights the DeNiro side of the story in a very different way from Pacino’s side of the story. McCauley’s nightmare, which he relates to Hannah, is that he’s drowning in his sleep. This is supposed to represent McCauley’s morality catching up to him. It’s his realization that his way of doing things is flawed. Spinotti lights DeNiro’s sections in a very crisp blue, almost as if the actor were drowning. Hannah tells McCauley that he has nightmares about sitting at a banquet table with all of the people that he could not save. This morbidity on Hannah’s part is reflected in the dark lighting that surrounds Pacino throughout the film. Both of these forms of lighting engulf the two actors/characters. It’s an aesthetic form of constriction; a metaphor for the lack of freedom that these two have because of the love for what they are talented at. This statement is really what the film is all about, and it wouldn’t be felt as acutely if it weren’t for the look of the film.
This is what makes Mann’s films so special, and what ultimately separates him from the amateurs. (The same could be said of DeNiro and Pancino’s acting. In fact, all of the acting is fascinating in the film.) It’s this kind of attention to detail that I miss from movies in this day and age.
Friday, December 19, 2008
McCabe and Mrs. Miller
The brilliance of a film like McCabe and Mrs. Miller is that it is indeed a revisionist Western, and yet it’s very undefined in terms of the point that the director Robert Altman is trying to put across to the audience. For a Western, the film is very artsy. It’s almost as if the director were saying, in a situation like the one in this film, where’s the beauty and mystery in the material? Altman infuses those qualities in not necessarily the plot (what plot?) but more in the details; in the way the actors convey their character traits through improvised dialogue and “gimmicks” like the way McCabe (Warren Beatty) mutters to himself in times of crisis. Those times of crisis are basically present throughout the whole duration of the movie, and yet there is such a calm tone present throughout; a tone of almost trippy elliptical confusion on both the characters and the audience’s part.
For a non-mainstream art film, McCabe and Mrs. Miller is about as unpretentious as a film can be. (It’s over before you know it.) Altman loves his characters that inhabit this town, and makes us the audience come to love them as well. I think this is because all the actors here are fully inhabiting shantytown characteristics. It’s great seeing Julie Christie gussied up a bit, because she becomes more ethereal in the process. (The same can be said for Warren Beatty-I think the beard helps bring out his eccentric side). I think Altman’s theory on beauty is that beauty is more defined when it is submerged and hidden. McCabe and Mrs. Miller is an art film with low-down humor. (The cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond is so evocative, it’s almost as if Carvaggio shot the movie in the muck.)
McCabe and Mrs. Miller is highly ambiguous personal filmmaking. McCabe’s wanting to have complete control over the whorehouse is always being thwarted by business men who want to take over the property. They eventually threaten his life if he doesn’t give in. McCabe is not allowed to make he deal in the way that he deems fit, and before he knows it the ground crumbles from underneath him. (That man who is experiencing inner turmoil and muttering under his breath might as well be Robert Altman.) This is a metaphor for Robert Altman’s wanting complete artistic control over his films and being thwarted by the movie business executives financing his endeavors. The fact that this thesis is highly ambiguous is the way that it ought to be. The meanings are hidden and submerged in the work in order to not get in the way of the audience’s enjoyment of the film. Altman’s way of telling a story cinematically is analogous to how a beautiful tree is covered in rain. (One of the shots in the film.) Ironically today’s audience may be so unused to this apparent negligence that they may not respond to the film at all. I feel that this makes the work even more mysterious.
The way that the town is depicted, gives an audience member a wonderful sense of the geography of Presbyterian Church. An audience member is aware of the places that are safe and not safe to traverse in, like in any other town, only those emotions are made more drastically vivid. Every detail is wonderfully elaborated here. The whorehouse is so playful and fun that ultimately you the audience member want to take residence there. It’s a place to stay warm from the harsh cold elements outside (both literally and metaphorically.) Each character that enters Presbyterian makes the town more interesting, and one begins to know the town like the back of their hand. Every single inhabitant has their own wonderful quirkiness. Eventually, the audience feels that we are taking up residence in this town, and that’s because we can imagine what it would be like once we have left it. We can imagine what goes on away from our prying eyes. The audience get this sense because we merely overhear or see certain events and miss others. This creates expansiveness of imagination; creates curiosity and frustration and interest in this town, almost as if it were a real place. We want that to be preserved by McCabe; we are both worried for the town and also are worried for McCabe’s well being. There’s freedom in the filmmaking here, because it seems as if real humans take residence in Presbyterian. What can be suggested or merely guessed at is what makes an audience member watching these characters love them exponentially. That sense of discovery might as well have died with McCabe.
For a brief period of time, McCabe and Mrs. Miller are the movers and shakers of the town. The film’s tone is tenuous because of McCabe and Mrs. Miller’s grip that they have on Presbyterian, which is constantly dissipating. The couple’s doom is written in the wind, and the two of them want to try to forget this sad fact. All of these plangent qualities are felt in Leonard Cohen’s evocative music. The songs in this film both portend the future and make one enjoy the present.
I feel that McCabe and Mrs. Miller is one of the most romantic films ever made, and that’s because we don’t really see the intimacy between the two protagonists. Their love can only be left to our imaginations, and besides, unrequited love is the most romantic kind of love presented on the screen because it’s of a tragic nature. (All though I do think they sleep together.) The fact that we can imagine what their relationship was like is a blessing rather than a curse. The void in their relationship is the entire film; because of this McCabe and Mrs. Miller has a wonderful feeling and tone to it that can only be accurately described as Canadian provocative. In the end, the town turns their back on McCabe, and it’s great that this isn’t stated outright. In other words, it’s not made depressing in anyway, much like how the personal feeling in the work is not stated outright. Altman does not want his audience to despair, but rather to enjoy the surroundings of the film. It’s great that the audience has hope for McCabe by the end of the film, and hope in his relationship with Mrs. Miller. We do not want them to be forgotten or lost; and yet they are.
For a non-mainstream art film, McCabe and Mrs. Miller is about as unpretentious as a film can be. (It’s over before you know it.) Altman loves his characters that inhabit this town, and makes us the audience come to love them as well. I think this is because all the actors here are fully inhabiting shantytown characteristics. It’s great seeing Julie Christie gussied up a bit, because she becomes more ethereal in the process. (The same can be said for Warren Beatty-I think the beard helps bring out his eccentric side). I think Altman’s theory on beauty is that beauty is more defined when it is submerged and hidden. McCabe and Mrs. Miller is an art film with low-down humor. (The cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond is so evocative, it’s almost as if Carvaggio shot the movie in the muck.)
McCabe and Mrs. Miller is highly ambiguous personal filmmaking. McCabe’s wanting to have complete control over the whorehouse is always being thwarted by business men who want to take over the property. They eventually threaten his life if he doesn’t give in. McCabe is not allowed to make he deal in the way that he deems fit, and before he knows it the ground crumbles from underneath him. (That man who is experiencing inner turmoil and muttering under his breath might as well be Robert Altman.) This is a metaphor for Robert Altman’s wanting complete artistic control over his films and being thwarted by the movie business executives financing his endeavors. The fact that this thesis is highly ambiguous is the way that it ought to be. The meanings are hidden and submerged in the work in order to not get in the way of the audience’s enjoyment of the film. Altman’s way of telling a story cinematically is analogous to how a beautiful tree is covered in rain. (One of the shots in the film.) Ironically today’s audience may be so unused to this apparent negligence that they may not respond to the film at all. I feel that this makes the work even more mysterious.
The way that the town is depicted, gives an audience member a wonderful sense of the geography of Presbyterian Church. An audience member is aware of the places that are safe and not safe to traverse in, like in any other town, only those emotions are made more drastically vivid. Every detail is wonderfully elaborated here. The whorehouse is so playful and fun that ultimately you the audience member want to take residence there. It’s a place to stay warm from the harsh cold elements outside (both literally and metaphorically.) Each character that enters Presbyterian makes the town more interesting, and one begins to know the town like the back of their hand. Every single inhabitant has their own wonderful quirkiness. Eventually, the audience feels that we are taking up residence in this town, and that’s because we can imagine what it would be like once we have left it. We can imagine what goes on away from our prying eyes. The audience get this sense because we merely overhear or see certain events and miss others. This creates expansiveness of imagination; creates curiosity and frustration and interest in this town, almost as if it were a real place. We want that to be preserved by McCabe; we are both worried for the town and also are worried for McCabe’s well being. There’s freedom in the filmmaking here, because it seems as if real humans take residence in Presbyterian. What can be suggested or merely guessed at is what makes an audience member watching these characters love them exponentially. That sense of discovery might as well have died with McCabe.
For a brief period of time, McCabe and Mrs. Miller are the movers and shakers of the town. The film’s tone is tenuous because of McCabe and Mrs. Miller’s grip that they have on Presbyterian, which is constantly dissipating. The couple’s doom is written in the wind, and the two of them want to try to forget this sad fact. All of these plangent qualities are felt in Leonard Cohen’s evocative music. The songs in this film both portend the future and make one enjoy the present.
I feel that McCabe and Mrs. Miller is one of the most romantic films ever made, and that’s because we don’t really see the intimacy between the two protagonists. Their love can only be left to our imaginations, and besides, unrequited love is the most romantic kind of love presented on the screen because it’s of a tragic nature. (All though I do think they sleep together.) The fact that we can imagine what their relationship was like is a blessing rather than a curse. The void in their relationship is the entire film; because of this McCabe and Mrs. Miller has a wonderful feeling and tone to it that can only be accurately described as Canadian provocative. In the end, the town turns their back on McCabe, and it’s great that this isn’t stated outright. In other words, it’s not made depressing in anyway, much like how the personal feeling in the work is not stated outright. Altman does not want his audience to despair, but rather to enjoy the surroundings of the film. It’s great that the audience has hope for McCabe by the end of the film, and hope in his relationship with Mrs. Miller. We do not want them to be forgotten or lost; and yet they are.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Sicko
Sicko is a depiction of how the American health care system is a shambles. Michael Moore’s film shows, especially the American middle and lower class who are the ones that suffer the most from this situation, what the health care system is like in the rest of the world. The results are shocking and against our favor. In places like France and England, and even a place like Cuba (!), going to get an operation costs nothing. There is a wide margin here between the freedoms that foreign citizens in countries other than the U.S. receive in terms of free health care, compared to the health care prices here. The form of incense that Moore as a filmmaker transposes onto the audience come from the fact that doctors can and do live very comfortably financial lives in those countries; what’s the excuse for H.M.O.’s to be jacking up the health care prices here? The answer can only be greed and heartlessness. One has to be heartless if they do not perform a life saving operation on someone, just because they receive benefits from H.M.O. companies. That gonzo journalist Michael Moore, as always, stays true to his form of filmmaking (by falsifying facts and making certain individuals, like in the case of this film doctors, appear to be fools) and yet this time the gonzo journalism theatrics seem to be justified because of the imperative importance of this particular topic. How can one not joke in amazement over the fact that many of the firefighters who helped in the relief effort of 9/11 can be better treated medically (many have breathing issues) over in Cube (where Moore takes them) than in their own homeland? It’s a sick joke, and yet its reality. That joke has an underside of deep human caring and concern over the whole American health care situation and the people being affected by it.
I already knew that our health care system was a mess. Who doesn’t; everyone is affected by the enormous amount that one has to pay in order to have an operation and everyone implicitly knows the greed of the insurance companies. What I didn’t know was what initiated this mess. I learned from this film that John Ehrlichman convinced Richard Nixon to create a care system based on the belief that hospitals should give less care to their patients in order to obtain a greater profit. However, its one thing to already know something; it’s quite something else to actually see some of the worst examples of how innocent people are being affected by the high costs in health care. This is almost like fully exploring your feelings and concerns, which are in themselves highly upsetting emotionally. I feel that the reason Moore shows you cases like the one involving a retired couple who loses their home because of the expenses that they paid for dealing with multiple heart attacks and cancer (not to mention the many deaths that result from the insurance companies heartlessness), is to make you, the audience member, strife with anger against the system, so much so that we as a society cannot not deal with the high cost of health care anymore and, thus, ultimately try to fight the system in order to abolish this problem. This is what kept my interest not only during the movie, but long afterward as well. It’s a film that stays with you, and how can it not? The problem that’s in this film is always present in our daily lives. Moore ultimately wants that problem to go away. Moore’s desperate need to ultimately vanquish this problem is what makes him a successful director; his actually deeply caring about the people being affected by this, i.e. the audience. We are not left out of the implications of this film like we were in Moore’s other movies.
The filmmaker’s relationship to those being filmed is very interesting. He, like the audience, is incredulous upon finding out how affordable it is to just plain live, not let alone survive, in Europe and other foreign countries in the U.S. His relationship to the victims is entirely different. It’s almost one of care and consideration and great calm; examples of reassurance that this system will not last forever and something will be done about the situation.
One particular scene in the film that reflects the spirit of the movie is when Moore learns that in France, everyone is allowed six months paternity leave along with paid leave if they are facing a grave illness. Even though this is a minor scene, and really has nothing to do with the health care system, it shows the caring that is generally allocated to European citizens which is something that is not felt in America. It really is a shock to the system when an American audience hears this. Why doesn’t the government care about us over here?
The socio political context of this film is one of the system being rigged. Here’s an example: ex-congressman Billy Tauzin’s saying to Congress that they must pass a senior-citizens drug bill. Once Congress does, Billy Tauzin makes millions lobbying for drug companies. What kind of example does this illicit behavior set for this country? There is a plangent quality to this film, because it simply appears that in this country the poor and middle class lose and lose only. This is felt in the people being interviwed’s behavior, in the way the film is edited, the way it is shot, the narration, ect. Yet, there is also uplift as well, which is the ultimate American spirit. Moore does not want anyone in this country, this includes the insurance bigwigs, to forget what this country was based in: care for everyone along with voicing of one’s independence. Moore wants us to change the system and to not let us forget that we can.
I already knew that our health care system was a mess. Who doesn’t; everyone is affected by the enormous amount that one has to pay in order to have an operation and everyone implicitly knows the greed of the insurance companies. What I didn’t know was what initiated this mess. I learned from this film that John Ehrlichman convinced Richard Nixon to create a care system based on the belief that hospitals should give less care to their patients in order to obtain a greater profit. However, its one thing to already know something; it’s quite something else to actually see some of the worst examples of how innocent people are being affected by the high costs in health care. This is almost like fully exploring your feelings and concerns, which are in themselves highly upsetting emotionally. I feel that the reason Moore shows you cases like the one involving a retired couple who loses their home because of the expenses that they paid for dealing with multiple heart attacks and cancer (not to mention the many deaths that result from the insurance companies heartlessness), is to make you, the audience member, strife with anger against the system, so much so that we as a society cannot not deal with the high cost of health care anymore and, thus, ultimately try to fight the system in order to abolish this problem. This is what kept my interest not only during the movie, but long afterward as well. It’s a film that stays with you, and how can it not? The problem that’s in this film is always present in our daily lives. Moore ultimately wants that problem to go away. Moore’s desperate need to ultimately vanquish this problem is what makes him a successful director; his actually deeply caring about the people being affected by this, i.e. the audience. We are not left out of the implications of this film like we were in Moore’s other movies.
The filmmaker’s relationship to those being filmed is very interesting. He, like the audience, is incredulous upon finding out how affordable it is to just plain live, not let alone survive, in Europe and other foreign countries in the U.S. His relationship to the victims is entirely different. It’s almost one of care and consideration and great calm; examples of reassurance that this system will not last forever and something will be done about the situation.
One particular scene in the film that reflects the spirit of the movie is when Moore learns that in France, everyone is allowed six months paternity leave along with paid leave if they are facing a grave illness. Even though this is a minor scene, and really has nothing to do with the health care system, it shows the caring that is generally allocated to European citizens which is something that is not felt in America. It really is a shock to the system when an American audience hears this. Why doesn’t the government care about us over here?
The socio political context of this film is one of the system being rigged. Here’s an example: ex-congressman Billy Tauzin’s saying to Congress that they must pass a senior-citizens drug bill. Once Congress does, Billy Tauzin makes millions lobbying for drug companies. What kind of example does this illicit behavior set for this country? There is a plangent quality to this film, because it simply appears that in this country the poor and middle class lose and lose only. This is felt in the people being interviwed’s behavior, in the way the film is edited, the way it is shot, the narration, ect. Yet, there is also uplift as well, which is the ultimate American spirit. Moore does not want anyone in this country, this includes the insurance bigwigs, to forget what this country was based in: care for everyone along with voicing of one’s independence. Moore wants us to change the system and to not let us forget that we can.
RIZE
The narrative being told in the film of RIZE, is one that deals with how exactly a community rises above restrictions like poverty and even death. It’s not so much that the groups that dance in the poor areas depicted in this film become more economically rich because of their dance skills. Rather, they become more psychologically enriched from what they do, which in a sense is emoting through dance rather than through violence. The dance communities in RIZE emote their frustrations as well as their sadness.
I feel that the filmmaker was very successful in connecting the situations that these people as a poor community encounter, with that of dancing in order to get rid of their frustrations through art. If this connecting method on the filmmaker’s part didn’t occur, then the audience wouldn’t quite understand why it is so important that this community have a need to dance; the importance is that the dance is the means by which the community stays together as a functioning unit, no matter what the circumstances are. I know see not only how a community like the ones in poorer parts of California cope, but I’ve learned for my own needs how to cope; how to energize myself so that nothing negative affects me. Really, that’s what the communities in RIZE do; everything for them is a mindset.
The filmmaker’s successes were the fact that they got such good footage; footage that someone like myself never has seen before because I don’t live in any areas were krumping and the like is done. Te dance footage is simply exhilarating; what’s amazing is that the footage remains exhilarating even after the audience learns of certain deaths in the neighborhood. Krumping prevails over anything. I was also amazed that the interview footage was so good. These dancers tell you exactly what they meant to convey by their dance moves; something that other more “professional” dancers have a very hard time of conveying. Maybe it’s so easy for these dancers to express themselves because what they are experiencing is genuine and is a very urgent need, rather than a means to simply show off and gain prestige. Also, the great interview footage may have to do with the ease with which the filmmaker’s have with these individuals. He almost seems to be one of them, and the joking that both interviewer and interviewee partake in is very refreshing to hear because poorer individuals, especially in movies are never depicted at ease in any way which is somewhat insulting.
One particular scene that depicts the movie’s spirit for me is when the man who has started these dance contests learns that his house has been broken into. At first he is overwrought with emotion; he can’t believe that someone would rob the home of a man who is not only a good man at heart, but wants to spread his cause as well. One of his friends says to him that he shouldn’t worry; this is merely one more indication that he should move on to bigger and better things with his cause. There is something so realistic about this moment; these are two human beings actually having a conversation with each other in a movie and one is so not used to this that they may be overwrought with emotion as well. It also depicts what this film is all about; overcoming one’s repressions and feats of sadness in order to live and spread your cause-make your individual mark. The clown man’s cause is actually coming back and helping him out as well, which is the ultimate sign that his cause is important. The film aesthetically is very musical. I felt as if each and every shot was edited to the great pulsating dance beat that these individuals listen to. I wanted to start to dance like them; even though I knew that I ultimately just didn’t have their talent. Some shots are very raw and beautiful much like the spirit of these people.
I feel that the filmmaker was very successful in connecting the situations that these people as a poor community encounter, with that of dancing in order to get rid of their frustrations through art. If this connecting method on the filmmaker’s part didn’t occur, then the audience wouldn’t quite understand why it is so important that this community have a need to dance; the importance is that the dance is the means by which the community stays together as a functioning unit, no matter what the circumstances are. I know see not only how a community like the ones in poorer parts of California cope, but I’ve learned for my own needs how to cope; how to energize myself so that nothing negative affects me. Really, that’s what the communities in RIZE do; everything for them is a mindset.
The filmmaker’s successes were the fact that they got such good footage; footage that someone like myself never has seen before because I don’t live in any areas were krumping and the like is done. Te dance footage is simply exhilarating; what’s amazing is that the footage remains exhilarating even after the audience learns of certain deaths in the neighborhood. Krumping prevails over anything. I was also amazed that the interview footage was so good. These dancers tell you exactly what they meant to convey by their dance moves; something that other more “professional” dancers have a very hard time of conveying. Maybe it’s so easy for these dancers to express themselves because what they are experiencing is genuine and is a very urgent need, rather than a means to simply show off and gain prestige. Also, the great interview footage may have to do with the ease with which the filmmaker’s have with these individuals. He almost seems to be one of them, and the joking that both interviewer and interviewee partake in is very refreshing to hear because poorer individuals, especially in movies are never depicted at ease in any way which is somewhat insulting.
One particular scene that depicts the movie’s spirit for me is when the man who has started these dance contests learns that his house has been broken into. At first he is overwrought with emotion; he can’t believe that someone would rob the home of a man who is not only a good man at heart, but wants to spread his cause as well. One of his friends says to him that he shouldn’t worry; this is merely one more indication that he should move on to bigger and better things with his cause. There is something so realistic about this moment; these are two human beings actually having a conversation with each other in a movie and one is so not used to this that they may be overwrought with emotion as well. It also depicts what this film is all about; overcoming one’s repressions and feats of sadness in order to live and spread your cause-make your individual mark. The clown man’s cause is actually coming back and helping him out as well, which is the ultimate sign that his cause is important. The film aesthetically is very musical. I felt as if each and every shot was edited to the great pulsating dance beat that these individuals listen to. I wanted to start to dance like them; even though I knew that I ultimately just didn’t have their talent. Some shots are very raw and beautiful much like the spirit of these people.
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