Recently in class, we have been examining the structure of narrative and how plot is an essential element of narrative. I wanted to examine the effect of multiple narratives because there are examples of this in several recent films.
Amores Perros: The fateful car accident.
21 Grams: The heart transplant
Pulp Fiction: The diner robbery
All these instances thread together multiple narratives. I want to concentrate on the plot of Alejandro Inarritu's Amores Perros because of the violent impact of the unifying action. Octavio is involved in the crash since he's being chased, Valeria is a victim in the accident, and El Chivo is a passerby that collects Octavio's dog after he witnesses the crash.
These three stories are connected at this central point and to further emphasize it's power, it is the first shot seen in the film. The plot later returns to this violent crash at the end of Octavio's dog career. It then begins again with Valeria and her perspective leading up to the crash and then on to El Chivo's version of the story. The structure positions the crash as the central point which is surrounded by the following story lines. It gives the film a very unique structure in without it there would be no character familiarity, dramatic irony, or interweaving of stories to create a multifaceted picture of love. Inarritu is a talented auteur and his use of plot connectivity by a physical and painful event is truly wondrous.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Martha Marcy May Marlene
Martha Marcy May Marlene. What a terrifically haunting film. Truly great work from both Elizabeth Olsen (There's a third sister?!?!) and Director Sean Durkin. The two work unfathomably well together. Elizabeth Olsen plays an innocent, lost soul who has the looks of a pure, and sweet young woman. She jerks us in with her innocence and vulnerability and forces us back with her obvious disregard for the help provided by her compassionate sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson) and her charming, uptight, British husband Ted (Hugh Dancy). Durkin coats her performance in an interesting form. Using slow zooms, static shots, and a murky composition of the image, he frames Olsen's performance in a fogginess that supports the lack of identity in the film's protagonist.
The film's murky quality distances itself from a clean cut image and tints the story with the quality of unknown depth. Martha's reminiscences of her recent past with the cult runs parallel to her attempts to deprogram herself in the present. This narrative form allows her identities, as stated in the title, to exist alongside in each other, perforating the whole identity that is Martha's. When Martha takes a dip into the water after riding in Ted's boat, the scene transitions flawlessly back to the commune where all the women swim naked in a secluded pool. The images come together and blur that which Martha sets out to do, to remove the brainwashing of the cult, that in a way is somewhat revered by Martha. Her mind is clearly attached to her experiences and this is well represented visually through the construction of narrative form and editing.
There is a unique symbolism in the film's environment. The lavish and modern New York homes juxtapose with the rural and scarce setting of the farm. Lucy materialism is contested by Martha's belief (or brainwashing) of the right way to live. Martha's passiveness to herself being dolled up brings this conflict to light, especially in the end and party scene (I won't give away too much.) Her mental state is in constant flux and the nature of the environment truly brings it out. There is also an acute attention paid to stairs in this film. Lucy and Martha often have their deepest moments on stairs. This reminds me of one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost, The Staircase. Stairs are a struggle to gain entrance to different levels of a home, yet when used in the context of the poem, it shows a emotional struggle in a relationship to different levels of that relationship. The same goes for Martha, in that when conversations take place on the stairs, they are shot with restriction in movement. A unique way to show the extent of Martha's struggle with her relationships. Although, there is an eerie Patrick, the gang's charismatic leader, played by a wonderfully sinister John Hawkes, stares at an instance of free love taking place in the bowels of his home, suggesting that he is in control of the level of relationships in his commune.
The psychological horror present in Martha connects beauty and callousness through the absolutely stunning Elizabeth Olsen and the debut feature of Sean Durkin. It is a great film to lose yourself in. Identify with whomever you wish, Martha, Marcy May, or Marlene. The film does a job well done to derail you from every namesake.
The film's murky quality distances itself from a clean cut image and tints the story with the quality of unknown depth. Martha's reminiscences of her recent past with the cult runs parallel to her attempts to deprogram herself in the present. This narrative form allows her identities, as stated in the title, to exist alongside in each other, perforating the whole identity that is Martha's. When Martha takes a dip into the water after riding in Ted's boat, the scene transitions flawlessly back to the commune where all the women swim naked in a secluded pool. The images come together and blur that which Martha sets out to do, to remove the brainwashing of the cult, that in a way is somewhat revered by Martha. Her mind is clearly attached to her experiences and this is well represented visually through the construction of narrative form and editing.
There is a unique symbolism in the film's environment. The lavish and modern New York homes juxtapose with the rural and scarce setting of the farm. Lucy materialism is contested by Martha's belief (or brainwashing) of the right way to live. Martha's passiveness to herself being dolled up brings this conflict to light, especially in the end and party scene (I won't give away too much.) Her mental state is in constant flux and the nature of the environment truly brings it out. There is also an acute attention paid to stairs in this film. Lucy and Martha often have their deepest moments on stairs. This reminds me of one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost, The Staircase. Stairs are a struggle to gain entrance to different levels of a home, yet when used in the context of the poem, it shows a emotional struggle in a relationship to different levels of that relationship. The same goes for Martha, in that when conversations take place on the stairs, they are shot with restriction in movement. A unique way to show the extent of Martha's struggle with her relationships. Although, there is an eerie Patrick, the gang's charismatic leader, played by a wonderfully sinister John Hawkes, stares at an instance of free love taking place in the bowels of his home, suggesting that he is in control of the level of relationships in his commune.
The psychological horror present in Martha connects beauty and callousness through the absolutely stunning Elizabeth Olsen and the debut feature of Sean Durkin. It is a great film to lose yourself in. Identify with whomever you wish, Martha, Marcy May, or Marlene. The film does a job well done to derail you from every namesake.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Welcome!
Hello and Welcome!
I've been itching to start a blog for a while that discusses movies as a matter of art, and not just on whether one likes it or dislikes it. I am interested in the "why" in this blog. The cinema is a representational mechanism of the real, the phenomenal, and the existential. I want to talk about and discuss with others the merit of films, yet too many films today are only given the occasional approval or disapproval after the screening. "What did you think?" "I loved it!" "I hated it!" But why do we feel this way? Was it because of the composition of the frame? The audio-visual juxtaposition? The actors presence on the screen? Maybe it's because no one wants to consider movies as an art. This argument persists today as it did at the beginning of the twentieth century. Which leads us to the spectacle of cinema today.
Cinema today is in an awful state of affairs. The three-dimensional craze has gone too far! I'm tired of seeing Disney Classics and spectacular sagas like Star Wars, re-released in three-dimensional space. Avatar was a beauty, don't get me wrong. Truly an amazing spectacle. But should that lead to encasing all of the films we know and love into a space filled with depth? What was wrong with a flat animated picture? Movies today are being forced to jump on the 3-dimensional bandwagon just to keep up with each other. Several are put into 3-D last minute, when they weren't even filmed for the purpose of 3-D and for what? Just so Little Johnny can dribble mouthfuls of popcorn onto his seat after seeing antelopes assault him and his pal Simba. The cinema needs to be knocked from its spectacle high horse.
I do believe that there is potential to every new technological development in cinema. I mean look at the reception sound received after the Jazz Singer (1927). It was doubted at first and then welcomed with open arms. Sound has so many possibilities when partnered with the visual and I believe 3-D can do the same, but treating it as something to be tagged on to a movie just so people can have the option of paying the extra service charge to experience some extra thrill denounces cinema and places it along the track of a theme park attraction. Something to be experienced on a level of exhilaration instead of a level of beauty.
The possibility of representation of three-dimensional space can dress the filmic dimension that was flat. It can add nuances to the two-dimensional space and reveal the realism in life to a sharper degree, but only if it is used effectively.
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