Tuesday, 3 May 2011

Metaphor in Film: Representing 'truth' through 'performance' (BA Dissertation)

Abstract

Understanding how ‘metaphor’ functions within the different disciplines that make up a film – screenwriting, acting, cinematography and sound – is the fundamental purpose behind this practitioner-focused research.

Rather than discussing specific film movements, or conventions within ‘Hollywood’ or ‘art-house’ film, this research discusses the formal structure and cognitive process of film metaphor. ‘Mulholland Drive’ (2001), ‘Memento’ (2000) and ‘Naked’ (1993) are analysed for how they convey meanings through metaphor, despite their unconventional approaches to Aristotelian narrative structure. These films are seen as exemplifying the most progressive approaches in contemporary filmmaking, with regards to cinematography and sound design, plot design, and the direction of actors.

Even though ‘metaphor’ is seen as being only applicable with literary contexts, Trevor Whittock makes a compelling analysis of how metaphor can be applied to the manner in which the observer comprehends the figurative meanings in a film. This research cross-references Whittock’s theory of film metaphor, with theories on acting and performance. This approach helps to define how a film ‘performs’ to the observer, as a more insightful manner of critiquing theories of ‘representation’ and ‘expression’.
Beginning with an introduction to the concept of film metaphor, this thesis argues the problems and significance of the study. The second chapter expands on the scope and limitations of film metaphor, and how it makes up for shortcomings in the traditional theory of semiotic film theory. The third chapter details the way that film can be analysed as ‘performing’ in definable ‘modes’, in the same way as an actor. The premise that a film can be broken down into three key elements forms both the rationale behind the choice of the aforementioned three films as case studies. The conclusions reached by this research support the view that all types of ‘performance’ can create unique film metaphors. These essentially rely on an ‘interplay’ of figurative schemes. When the audience makes the connections between these schemes, they are then able to ‘read’ the ‘insight’ that the metaphor is set up to convey.

Sunday, 13 March 2011

Review of 'Life in a Day'


When I first saw the concept for 'Life in a Day', and the ever so slightly patronising 'call to action' video featuring 'Life In a Day' exec-producer Ridley Scott requesting users to get out there on July 24, 2010 and film a day their lives - I was initially underwhelmed by the concept. The brief seemed little more than a marketing gimmick on the part of Ridley Scott and his crew, especially since it was so open. All applicants simply had to do was make a film that answered the following questions: 

- What do you fear/love?
- What makes you laugh?
- What's in my pockets?

The next I heard of the project was literally hours before it was due to be live streamed over YouTube on January 27, 2011 at 8PM ET - which for me was January 28, 0100 GMT. Looking at the statistics - the final source material made from 4,500 hours of video from 80,000 videos, submitted by people from 197 countries, all shot on July 24, 2010 - it soon became a compelling enough reason to at least watch part of the final result, which is a 90-minute feature film edited by Kevin Macdonald by December 2010 (Last King of Scotland, Touching the Void). Frustratingly I can't find figures on how many people where online at the same time as me, although if the 38 million+ channel views is anything to go by, it would be safe to assume at least a couple of million where online to witness this historic cinematic event.

In some ways the experience of watching the online premiere of a film made entirely from crowd-sourced footage, gave the final film a unique resonance. Knowing how little the mini-narratives have been interfered with, as well as the fact that all the footage was from the same day, made even the most banal segments feel more immediate and poignant than any social-realistic documentary I have seen.

As a whole, the film is essentially a montage of footage that attempts to visually answer the three questions in the brief, by following the makers or their friends/spouses going about their lives. The structure of the montage is linear, so follows the passing of time over a day for each of the people shown. At various points, Macdonald blends the clips into intercut sequences, whilst throughout most of the film he explores various existential themes through the juxtaposition of relevant footage. There many stages where I was concerned the film would try to avoid tougher themes such as politics, death and violence, but then I was pleasantly surprised at how these areas were addressed. It seemed too tempting for the filmmakers to go with the 'life is good' approach, that would seem to be presenting a politically correct and controversy-free version of reality. Although 'Life in a Day' takes a positive essentialist view on life, the inclusion of negative themes is neither heavy-handed or subversively propagandist - which is something filmmakers too often resort to.

I was conscious of one aspect of the final project, which was the authorship behind the final edit itself. Whilst I didn't feel there was anything particularly 'American' about the film, I was distinctly aware of the problem of having a film where the footage is supplied from contributors around the world, but the producing team are primarily westerners. I feel that this therefore complicates the concept of a film that objectively curates the observations of people from divergent nationalities and cultures. Although there weren't any segments that stuck out as being included purely for exotic value, I wondered if there would be criticism leveled against the makers for representing certain cultures with a markedly western ideological/philosophical manner.

If such criticism is due though, I feel 'Life in a Day' was successful in not seeming to perpetuate one specific ideological standpoint, but rather it maintains an authorial distance that allows each clip to have a voice of its own. Something that's easy to take foregranted, but in terms of execution, arguably demonstrates a great skill in documentary storytelling. Primarily this skill is evident in the way that I could not switch it off, although I was so tired from long hours writing an essay, and additionally, in the way it engaged me emotionally - there are some genuinely heart-breaking as well as uplifting moments. Well worth buying for those confused by the mixed reviews.

References:
YouTube (2011) Life in a Day. Available at: http://www.youtube.com/user/lifeinaday. (Accessed 27 January 2011)
Life in a Day (2011) Directed by K. Macdonald. United States: Scott Free Productions.

Saturday, 12 March 2011

A personal take on the 'concept' album


Music appreciation has always been almost as big a part of my existence as film, however unlike the typical listener, my upbringing initially began as a pure diet of classical music, up until my late teens when I branched out into instrumental modern jazz. (My orthodox religious upbringing had prevented me from listening to secular music or watching fiction films, yet somehow 'classical' music (used in the broadest sense) seemed the only passable exception to this rule according to my parents). It was after this period that I then began an eclectic exploration that would entail trying to track down acclaimed examples of some of the many genres. Upon purchasing my first entry-level separates hi-fi system around the time of my jazz 'episode', my listening style would generally involve dedicated listening where I'm sat in darkness, enjoying an album from start to finish. Given the similarity of the listening experience to that of cinema viewing, I have therefore tended to gravitate towards albums that can be enjoyed in their entirety, rather than for a few standout tracks where the rest are mediocre 'fillers'. My most fulfilling relationships with music are generally when they provide a strong cathartic and cinematic auditory experience. As such, 'concept' albums are generally my personal preference of album - primarily because of the immersive and creatively stimulating experience they provide upon every listen.

For me the freedom of 'concept' albums is that usually the artist is already well-established enough to afford them the opportunity to release a less formula-bound and perhaps more meditative product. Just like deleted scenes on a DVD, or a filmmaker's early short films, the concept albums I've experienced seem to provide a clearer insight into the artists influences, as well as perhaps the new direction they would like to explore. It is therefore intriguing to see these albums often reviewed as pretentious or self-endulgant ( ). As a filmmaker, my penchant for the cinematic within the musical, is justified mainly by my a natural inclination for enjoying the extended narrative arc that's present within a group of tracks united by a common theme. Given my lack of rock music as a formative influence, my initial direction beyond jazz took the strangest detour into drum and bass of the mid-90s primarily due to a DJ friend of mine introducing me to the likes of Goldie and Grooverider. The initial attraction was their experimental fusion of jazz with dance, something that I also discovered later in my foray into hip-hop with 'Guru's Jazzmatazz Vol. 1'. I am always less interested in music that fits comfortably within genre convention, so am thereofore more engaged by 'alternative'/'underground' and mixed-genre albums, since these types of product are arguably less reliant on reliving or revivifying older music and more on trying to innovate. My interest in film, and my purpose as a filmmaker is much in the same spirit.

Therefore, over the last 9 years of listening exploring secular music (other than classical music as defined earlier), out of the standout 'concept' albums that have influenced me, the one that remains a perfect example of the type of music and approach I have described would be:

'The Seduction of Claude Debussy' (1999) by Art of Noise. The theme is a multi-genre piece that uses the music of my favourite impressionist composer as the influence behind an immersive and cinematic experience that features narration from John Hurt. Worth a listen on a decent sound-system in the dark with your eyes wide shut. I recently found a quote from the band describing the album as "the soundtrack to a film that wasn't made about the life of Claude Debussy."
Other notable titles that are worth mentioning in this context include: 

- Disc 1 of the 2-disc album 'Saturnz Return' (1998) by Goldie. The hour-long orchestral/drum and bass opening track 'Mother' and its follow-up 'Truth'.
- 'Drukqs' (2001) by Aphex Twin. The concept here seems to be Richard D. James's unique use of samples, synthesizer experiments, presented within what can best be described as avant-garde approach to music.
- 'Verspertine' (2001) by Björk. An example of a harmonious fusion of inventive orchestral instrumentation with electronica.
- 'Since I Left You' (2000) by The Avalanches. An entirely sample-based electronica album that doesn't sound like anything else you may have heard.
- 'Takk...' (2005) by Sigur Rós. An astounding album from a band who struggle to fit within any known genre, but are most closely aligned with progressive rock.
If a single could be a concept, then the track of choice would have to be 'Unfinished Sympathy' (1991) by Massive Attack.

Bibliography:
Booth, R. (2010) Pink Floyd score victory for the concept album in court battle over ringtones. Available at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2010/mar/11/pink-floyd-court-victory-emi-downloads-ringtones. (Accessed: 13 March 2011)
Geoghegan, K. (2010) Do music fans still love the concept of the Concept?. Available at: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment+arts-10485929. Accessed: 13 March 2011)
McCormick, N. (2009) The Return of the Concept Album. Available at:http://blogs.telegraph.co.uk/culture/neilmccormick/9668028/The_Return_Of_The_Concept_Album/ (Accessed: 13 March 2011)
Sturges, F. (2009) The Return of the Concept Album. Available at:http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/music/features/the-return-of-concept-album-1796064.html (Accessed: 13 March 2011)

Thursday, 10 March 2011

Mike Leigh Q&A (Cineworld Haywmarket, October 26 2010)


Just after completing my Analytical Essay (comparing Mike Leigh and Kathe Kollwitz), in October 26 of 2010, I was fortunate enough to attend the first UK screening of 'Another Year', along with a Q&A session with Mike Leigh himself straight afterwards. The film itself is as unique an entity as are every one of Leigh's films, mainly due to his unique collaborate creative process. I generally am always skeptical with artists when they obsess over the medium and the creative process, however in Leigh's case it isn't an obsession, merely an entirely different approach than any well-known filmmaker today. Arguably, due to Leigh's approach, he constitutes a unique brand or genre in his own right - something that one can emulate but never duplicate, primarily because of how personal and therefore secret his process with the actors is. The process itself involves the actors creating their characters from improvisations, guided and orchestrated into a story by Leigh.

It follows therefore that journalists generally spend more time and article space trying to teese out the tenants of his 'secret' process. This Q&A was no exception in terms of the audience’s questions, in-so-much that at one point Leigh himself wryly commented on how there seemed a significant lack of questions about the film they'd just seen. As I was leaving, frustrated with myself for not having a single question to ask him, I realised that it was that the sheer simplicity of his approach, and the enviable coherance displayed within every one of his films that I've seen, is completely self-evident and self-explanatory and leaves nothing lacking. 'Another Year' is justn yet another example of this.

So aside from process, what Leigh feels defines his approach is his interest in people; specifically their behavior, rituals, language, and conversation. It comes from an interest in looking at life in all its details, for which Leigh is compelled to use film or theater to try and capture and do something with. A natural compulsion to tell stories and share what you've experienced. Additionally, this interest extends beyond character to the substance of film; its visual possibilities, as well as the structure and discipline it requires. It was interesting therefore when Leigh highlighted how film is a medium that achieves something he can't achieve in theatre, and that the same applies to theater as opposed to film.

What most moved me however was his reason for never employing a scripted approach. Leigh noted how, in films from 1986 to the end of the 20s when ‘talkies’ began, it was standard to make films through improvisation and collaboration. When ‘talkies’ began, everything became ‘script-bound’. “…it’s simply a natural thing to do, to get everyone into a room, and to create something, working the actual medium itself.” Rather than writing a script, then having to find someone to fit it, which is a process of compromises that continues all the way through to post-production, and often results in a film that merely resembles the original idea. Which is why Leigh believes in a more collaborative process with all levels of crew as well as the cast. He emphasised how actors are real artists “they don’t just show up, learn the lines, and don’t fall over the furniture… but they collaborate, create… they don’t just play themseves, they’re motivate to deal with ‘life out there’, and to use their art, their medium…”. Leigh’s approach to filmmaking is not one of compromise and producing a film where “it's been interfered with”. For Leigh, his uncompromising and completely collaborate approach helps him get result he couldn’t otherwise get. Enough said!

Links:
(Please contact me directly for a link to the recording of the Q&A)
References:
LEIGH. M (2010) Question & Answer Session following screening of 'Another Year'. 12 October.
IMDB (2010) Mike Leigh Filmography: Available at:http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005139/ (Accessed: 01 August 2010)

James Ellroy Q&A (Bloomsbury Theatre, October 6 2010)


The main motivation for attending the book reading/Q&A of James Ellroy, was primarily to understand more about the great mind behind one of my favourite films, 'L.A. Confidential'. Having never been to a book reading, I was also curious to see how literary types discuss their artform and perhaps pick up on their feelings towards filmmaking given the film adaptations of his work.

From the very moment Ellroy entered the stage and began reading an opening speech, then proceeding onto his book reading, it became quickly evident that this is the type of artist who constantly exhibits a carefully crafted public persona. He introduced himself as the great high priest who was present in England - the place of his mother tongue - and at this Q&A, to kneel in prayer along with the congregation at the "kneel where prayer has proven valid".

I was quickly reminded of Lars von Trier who is famous for his provocative relationship with journalists, and tendency to make public statements and conduct interviews with a great deal of performativity that means you can trust very little of what he says despite its apparantly genuine value. Both characters have proclaimed themselves as genii, but ironically have both been heralded as such by the same media for whom they orchestrate their performance. In Ellroy's case, barely a sentence is uttered that doesn't seem sarcastic, satirical or ironic, which is especially interesting because he writes every word so that it's callibrated to how he speaks.

His latest memoir 'The Hilliker Curse: My Pursuit of Women' was discussed since it expresses a very personal journey that stems from what he believes was a curse he put on his mother, that resulted in her being subsequently murdured three months later. It then charts his relationship "romantic fixation" with the other sex. When asked if its a womaniser's confession or honest appeal to women, Ellroy candidly exclaimed that it is a "predator's confession... a loveseeker's spiritual quest..." and that "the two are inextricable".

Conversation then moved onto his writing process and his "retro fantasist" obsession with writing crime fiction based between the 60s and 80s, and set within Los Angeles, US. Time Out Editor - and host - Chris Moss queried Ellroy's intentions, wondering why he seemed content to be aligned with the stereotype of the American that's naive about culture outside of his continent. Ellroy's response seemed ironically quite brutally honest. For him its about rewriting history to his specification as a way of re-living his key obsessions; firstly, this period of history, and the idea of corrupt shadowy meglomanic men, who engineer and manipulate political agenda's, and what happens when they are confronted by strong women. Regarding the claim of naivety, Ellroy proudly explained how in the planning stages, he typically hires a friend to visit any places outside of LA that will feature in the novel. For him artistic licence is paramount; the bottom line on historical fiction is "how well can you make this s**t up!?".

Like Mike Leigh, Ellroy's genre extends to his approach and its recurring themes, as well as its delivery. It was therefore an interesting insight when when he carefully emphasise how complex and in-depth his planning phase is, which he believes helps him realise his work. In response to assertions of pompositity for the self-claimed standard of genius, Ellroy explained that he is a "fanatical, researcher, notetaker, reader, thinker, detailer, outliner, conceiver", which comes from a past epipheny that "whatever I conceive I can execute". Mainly due to his self-procalimed "superb ability to sustain concentration", and being a very disciplined thinker.

He explained how he writes by hand, since he has willingly never learnt to use a computer (he has no mobile phone and no TV). He plays no music since he requires silence, which in terms of planning includes extensive periods where he lies "in the dark, to think, to figure s**t out, and to put it together". The reason for his extensive planning is that it frees him to write to write extemporaneously, improvisationaly because the overall schema, the diagram for the book, is detailed enough to give latitude to write individual scenes and improvise within them "because the superstructure is just that strong".

When asked about the the suggestion that crime fiction belongs to 'low culture', Ellroy responded, quoting American novelist Frank O'Conners, "A literature that cannot be vulgarised is no literature at all and will not last".

When asked about film options on his books, Ellroy had the following to say:
"Anyone who wants to option one of my books to be made into a movie is more than welcome to do so, if they pay me. It has often been said that the superbly realised released, successful motion picture, is to the optioned book what the first kiss is, to the 50th monogamous anniversary. Many called, few chosen. There will be movies you wanna see like LA Confidential, there are movies you wanna flee like The Black Dahlia." I joined the hearty applause whilst feeling strangely guilty for choosing to be part of an industry that can manage to make a poor film, despite the strength of the source material. Duly noted Mr Ellroy!

Links:
(Please contact me directly for a link to the recording of the Q&A)
References:
ELLROY, J. (2010) Question & Answer Session. 6 October.

Tuesday, 8 March 2011

Observation of Meisner technique at the Actors Temple


When I discovered that the lead for my latest short film 'Losing Unconscousness' (2010) Sean Buchanan, wanted me to observe some of the method acting classes he was attending, as I director I naturally felt compelled to seize the opportunity. I attended the three of the some of the conclusive classes to a six-week module at the Actor's Temple in Warren Street, London.
The layout of the classes was primarily based around the creation of smaller group improvisation that the actors were building from scratch. For the purpose of understanding the impact of narrative direction, each improvisation was deliberately linked together to form a larger ensemble piece. There didn't seem to be an intention to do anything with the final product since the emphasis was on the creative process itself. This approach seemed symptomatic of the general approach in method acting training where you focus on process-oriented direction, rather than results-oriented. Stemming back to Stanislavski's approach, this approach tries to focus on foregrounding an actor's motivation behind their performance, over what the final result is supposed to look like. My initial concern was that this approach might run into the danger of marginalising the aesthetics of performance and prioritising actor's process, making it harder for me to achieve my visual intensions. However from observing how the teacher directed the improvisations, it became clearer to me how an understanding of this process, and the actors that use it, can actually help produce a very specific and rewarding performance that meets the director's intensions.
Many of the attendees to the course are professional actors who've already been in the industry a while, so it was interesting to observe how they dealt with being taught techniques and ideas that contravened their initial formal training. With his lucid explanations of a contemporary approach to the Meisner technique, the teacher was able to identify the common practises and methods that are taught within acting training that are actually harmful and stifling. I recognised a few things from my own background which made it all the more alarming. For example, when directors give direction where they try to micro-manage how your emotions should look aesthetically, with complete disregard to how to achieve them.
Some of the central tenants of the Meisner technique that were discussed in every class included the philosophical concept of telling the 'truth' about oneself "under imaginary circumstances" (Meisner), the importance of holding a real emotional 'connection' with an audience by being completely 'in the moment' in their performances. From the perspective of film-making this is certainly an attractive notion that goes against the idea that the camera operator or editor is mainly responsible for this. The key argument for this focus is that audiences can usually instinctively tell if someone is being completely honest, or if they've put up an internal barrier.
What was useful about observing these classes was seeing these theories being put into practise, mainly because of the safe environment that gave the actors freedom to make mistakes and not be pressured into a prescriptive performance. It was particularly interesting to note when actor's were almost unconsciously putting divisions between themselves and their colleagues, whether through internalising and intellectualising their emotions, or by not focusing on their colleagues performance. A lasting lesson from observing these classes was the emphasis that's placed on 'listening' to the other actors spoken and unspoken subtext, given that we do this without thinking on a day to day basis, yet when placed in a performative environment becomes much harder to achieve unless there is true honesty in performance.
References:
Actors Temple website (2011) Available at: http://www.actorstemple.com/ (Accessed 12 August 2010).
Hodge, A (2010) Actor Training. 2nd ed. Oxon: Routledge.
Losing Unconsciousness (2010) Directed by T. HYDE. London: Tim Hyde.

The Identity Crisis of Big-budget Television

With the much-discussed slew of remakes and resurrected film franchises, it is interesting to note how this commercially successful formula has arguably helped the financial case for funding TV. This is mainly due to the similarity in purpose; serialised storytelling. Although there are detractors that see remakes and adaptations as inferior to original projects - at least from the perspective of artistic integrity - the argument in favour of this approach could be that the episodic nature of these types of films/television shows is in itself a genre. This would make it easier to classify these projects as an artform in their own right. One reason for this view is that TV and remakes/franchise cinema seem primarily occupied with a constant re-assessment a constant cyclical reinterpretation of the same complex characters and situations, rather than with the closed classical narrative structure of conventional films.
This approach would explain the approach that 'Heroes' (2006-2010) and 'Lost' (2004-2010) tried to follow. Both shows frustrated viewers with the seemingly endless possibilities that they seemed obsessed with exploring, rather than following the more traditional route of a over-arching classical narrative that where an ending is inevitable. Personally, I feel viewers would have had more patience with the shows if the writers had respected their viewer’s intelligence more by not allowing for the gaping plot-holes and inconsiquential narrative tangents that effectively ruined their reputations and caused the observable decline in viewers. Having viewed all of ‘Heroes’ and ‘Lost’, it seems that ‘Heroes’ was less dogged with a concern of seeming to move towards a definitive ending as was ‘Lost’. ‘Heroes’ success for me was in providing strong endings to narrative arcs that usually panned an entire series, as well as some well-crafted character studies. Each new series almost felt like a reinterpretation of their core concept of a present-day world where people discover their abilities and have to deal with the difficulty of co-existing with normal humans. As such, despite a rather inconsequential finale, ‘Heroes’ almost feels as though it could continue being made. Most notable in the way it unashamedly recycles one of its lead actress Ali Larter to play an entirely different part for no explicable reason at all. This seemed the strongest indication of ‘Heroes’ as primarily conceptual, concerned with spectacle as well as exploring existential questions regarding human existance through an almost parable-style narrative.
Whilst I enjoyed ‘Lost’ probably more than ‘Heroes’, it seemed a victim of an over-ambitious concept that viewers clearly lost patience for. Despite some excellent episodes and characterisation, my main criticism of ‘Lost’ was for a large amount of inconsequential and unneccessary episodes that attempted to stretch out the narrative and build suspense. Rather than ‘Heroes’ blatant disregard for plot continuity, it attempted to parade inconsistencies and nonsensical events under the pretense of mystery that would eventually be explained but never was. For me this pretensiousness was the key to its failiure with audiences.
Seemingly very aware of these problems, ‘Flashforward’ (2009-2010) seemed to try to be ‘Lost’ without the long build-ups, however its lurch towards the opposite extreme of terse overplotting felt like a simular experience to the 60-mile-an-hour ‘Taken’ – a lot happening but very little story being told – hence its early cancellation. It would seem so far that ‘The Event’ (2010) shares this identity crisis, albeit to a lesser degree given its current success. Time will tell whether they’ve perfected this balance.
References:
IMDB (2011) The Event. Available at: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1582459/ (Accessed: 7 March 2011)
IMDB (2011) Flashforward. Available at: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1441135/ (Accessed 7 March 2010)
IMDB (2011) Hereos. Available at: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0813715/ (Accessed: 7 March 2011)
IMDB (2011) Lost. Available at: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0411008/ (Accessed 7 March 2011)

Monday, 7 March 2011

My thoughts on 'Inception'


My personal response to 'Inception' (2010) was decidedly mixed, even though overall I felt a huge appreciation for being stimulated by something I have never seen or experienced before. The film as an experience is paradoxically quite a straight-forward one, where the main thrill lies in a suspenseful first-person exploration of 'reality'.
At 'Inception's core runs a theme of deception, misdirection that simultaneously is the 'truth' that the surrounds the characters, and a truth that they're chasing. Whilst we have the perpetual reminder of the constructed nature of reality that avoids patronising the viewer with 'what could be', Nolan dispenses with formalities and takes us straight into the world that explores the impact of this from Cobbs' perspective (or is it?). Personally I disengage from a story when characters or the narrator start opining about the bigger themes of life and 'what it all means', especially when it comes as a stock response to a weak third act in a story when all the other obvious loose ends have been tied off leaving the overall story looking a bit paperthin and incidental. Nolan seems clearly aware of these common pitfalls, which is evident from his most of his strongly written endings that actually compliment and expand the possibilities of the narrative significance of all that has preceeded it.
When considering the widely accepted criticism of scant character development that 'Inception's detractors rightly observe, it seems odd that there seems little emphasis on testing out whether this was part of Nolan's intention to reflect the idiosyncratic nature of the dreamscape. When was the last time you felt your dream contained well fleshed-out characters? It could easily be argued that those heralding this as the films' greatest failure are being hugely presumptive about what 'Inception' was trying to be, rather than what it is. Still, if this criticism is what Nolan intended, what stronger metaphor for the film's themes is there than for the entire story itself to have an identity crisis? The concept of narrative closure and causality seems to be the conceptual enemy of 'Inception's sprawling maze, which therefore renders Nolan's defiant ability to still extract a conventional story from this perhaps his greatest triumph.
It's either that, or Nolan needs to stop basking in the glory of his technical prowess and start focusing on how to direct actors, rather than largely relogating the audience' need for emotional engagement to a few poorly edited sequences that half-heartedly tick the proverbial 'character developement' box. I am referring to the plot detail about Cobb losing his wife. The concept was itself moving, the execution felt rushed and amateur at best. For me the greatest missed opportunity was when he and his wife awake from being growing 'old' together. This is the one scene that could have been beautifully depicted (rather than merely referenced), and could have had a lasting impact - much in the same way that the ending of 'The Prestige' (2006) has on its overall story. It isn't as if this was cliché in any way, so it remains a mystery why Nolan refuses us the catharsis of having this scene in full.
In summary, 'Inception' is immensely engaging on an intellectual level, but ultimately emotionally sparse and inconsequential in its delivery to a degree that seems either too heavy-handed (if intentional) or merely an unavoidable recurring attribute of Nolan's intriguing oevre so far. It's a must-see all the same.
References:
IMDB (2011) Inception. Available at: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1375666/ (Accessed 7 March 2011)
IMDB (2011) The Prestige. Available at: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0482571/
(Accessed 7 March 2011)
Bibliography:
Inception; or, Dream a Little Dream within a Dream with Me. Available at: http://www.davidbordwell.net/blog/?p=9692

Monday, 10 January 2011

Piracy aka file sharing


Please check out this first: http://www.stealthisfilm.com/Part2/
The arguments presented in 'Steal This Film 2' are actually quite compelling; the fact that it's natural for human beings to share information, and that intellectual property is used to commercialise it. And yes, the printing press phenomenon is likened quite aptly to the democracy of internet, meaning we now have a generation of musicians that happilily create and distribute music for free. Thats all very well when you look at how one can master an entire album on a half-decent home computer, and arguably the same with film. But then the doc seems to evade a major flaw in its argument; the entire process of making a feature film is still a million dollars away from being on the level of an inexpensive process. Plus, you cant make a film from 'samples' unless its a documentary, since unlike music with its clear-cut structure (eg 128 bps for dance music), there is still no set formula for a film wherein you could cut and paste scenes whilst retaining its consistency.
Given that it now seems socially acceptable and even common sense not to pay for music as the interviewees proudly exclaim, how can filmmakers insist they pay for films? I wonder if this seems a realistic solution:
Distributers and exhibitors re-focus on ensuring a profit from theatrical release alone, whilst making the product available for free online so they can see statistics on demographics of people downloading the material. Its no small secret thay this doesnt happen because theaters demand so much equity.
Or, stop making DVDs altogether, and only stream product online (like Channel 4oD) so it cant be reproduced. My theory is that noone wants to do this given the still healthy profit made on DVD sales despite the fall in overall revenue.
Otherwise i aint gonna be able to pay for locations, filming equipment, or name actors that will ultimately make people bother to steal it in the firstplace!
Am I over-reacting?

Wednesday, 7 July 2010

Review of ‘Red Riding’ trilogy


The ‘Red Riding’ trilogy, aka ‘Red Riding: In the Year of Our Lord 1974’, ‘~ 1980’, and ‘~ 1983’ (2009) is a UK television drama/thriller adaptation of David Pearce’s ‘Red Riding Quartet’ set in Yorkshire during the 70s and 80s, that was released on Channel 4 in March 2009, and was also given a cinematic release in the US in February 2010. The trilogy looks at the corruption within the police force, against the backdrop of the legacy of the Ripper murders.
Although the films’ screenplay’s were written by Tony Grisoni (‘Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas’(1998)), each ‘installment’ was given a different director and even filmed using different cameras. ‘1974’ was filmed on 16mm and directed by Julian Jarrold, ‘1980’ was filmed on 35mm and directed by James Marsh, and finally ‘1983’ was filmed with the Red One Camera and directed by Anand Tucker.
What’s at first intriguing is that the approach to this novel adaptation is essentially to produce three separate films that, whilst linked by running narrative, are almost re-interpretations of the same source material. The different film stock and indeed inclusion of a digital camera, as well as different visionaries, provides a great opportunity for a fresh take of each installment of the story. This certainly seems to work, as each film has a slightly different feel, which to some extent makes ‘1974’ and ‘1980’ feel quite plausible as separate standalone films. The production values also seem well managed considering this is primarily a television production, as the entire trilogy boasts a strong cast as well as commendable cinematography and mis-en-scene.
Starting with ‘1974’, we follow a young rookie journalist who trying to uncover the truth about a series of child abductions, which pit him against a corrupt police force. When he starts to unearth the truth, he finds himself caught up in a cover-up plot. His ultimate demise makes a haunting ending for the first installment in the trilogy, since it breaks the expectation for the uneducated watcher, that he’ll be the hero who’s journey will span the trilogy. For ‘1980’ we have a more dependable and mature protagonist who also meets a grizzly end despite his moral purpose to find justice. This then sets up a heightened tension for a comparatively unlikely hero’s journey in ‘1983’. As a narrative device, this subverts with the usual morality tale storyline where the hero uncovers the truth and is rewarded in some measure. It might seem morbid or depressing as a message, however as neo-noir genre piece, it adds an element of increased uncertainty and tension to the overall trilogy as well as over the time-span of each individual film. In part, because even though we don’t explore the journey’s of the Ripper’s victims, all characters feel relevant to the plot as opposed to background plot devices.
This is an interesting creative choice by the writers, as it forces the viewer not to take any character fore granted, even if some genre conventions are adhered to.
It is noticeable that ‘1983’ feels less cohesive than the previous two installments from a narrative perspective, relying on an unnecessary amount of voice-over and flashback in comparison to the previous two installments that feel more polished. Despite this overall, the adaptations feel satisfying as artistic film’s in their own write, rather than being ‘owned’ by the original source material of the novels.