Jaws: On the Beach

Here's a pretty good article that gives a b it of a history of Jaws, and also details some of the lasting effects it's had on the American movie industry. Give it a read and check back in with me at the end.

SUMMER FILMS: ON THE BEACH;

The Movie That Created the 'Summer Movie'

By TERRENCE RAFFERTY (NYT)

Copyright New York Times Company Apr 30, 2000

Twenty-five years ago, Steven Spielberg's ''Jaws'' created the Summer Movie as we know it: the action-heavy ''thrill ride'' sort of picture, aimed at sensation-hungry younger audiences, which moves into theaters around Memorial Day and remains there, partying hard, until the school year starts up again in September. ''Jaws'' opened on June 20, 1975, and its phenomenal popularity -- it was the first movie to relieve American audiences of more than $100 million of their hard-earned money -- helped turn Hollywood into what is now largely a summer-business town, sort of like Amity, the New England beach resort where the film's dire events take place. Watching the picture today, you might interpret it as a kind of allegory, in which the business community of Amity, refusing to close the beaches after a couple of fatal shark attacks, eerily embodies the ethics and aesthetics of the entertainment industry. The distributors and exhibitors do not shut down the multiplex even when they know that something lethal -- a ''Speed 2,'' a ''Godzilla,'' a ''Wild, Wild West'' -- lurks within.

This is not to say (as some do) that ''Jaws'' is responsible for the ''blockbuster mentality'' that has held sway over the major studios for the past couple of decades. When did Hollywood not try for blockbusters? You can pin this rap on any enormously lucrative picture you happen not to like; just from the decade preceding ''Jaws,'' suspects include ''The Exorcist,'' ''The French Connection,'' ''Love Story'' and ''The Sound of Music.'' ''The Godfather'' has the alibi of obvious greatness; even if it were the culprit, not a court in the world would convict it. The worst you can say about ''Jaws,'' I think, is that its success suggested, to the beady-eyed studio marketers, a link between the kind of movie it so spectacularly was and the time of year when it was released.

When studio executives first saw ''Jaws,'' they must have reacted like those old cartoon characters whose eyes would pop open and turn into dollar signs. The movie proposed a solution to a problem that had been plaguing the suits since the late 60's -- how to tap into the big ''youth'' market, but reliably. The studios didn't quite understand the appeal of pictures like ''The Graduate,'' ''Bonnie and Clyde,'' ''Easy Rider'' and ''M*A*S*H'' and certainly couldn't replicate it. (For that matter, they couldn't even figure out how to clone ''Love Story.'') But ''Jaws'' was, on the face of it, entertainment of a type the studios knew how to produce. At that time, action pictures were mostly being marketed to older audiences, but ''Jaws'' showed Hollywood it could sell action to kids too, with a few adjustments -- a faster pace, a hipper kind of humor, a stronger sense of horror and no Charlton Heston. (Mr. Heston had in fact wanted to play the police chief in ''Jaws,'' but Mr. Spielberg wisely rejected him in favor of Roy Scheider.) And why not release that type of movie in the summertime, when -- for the middle-class young, at least -- the livin' is easy?

The discovery of the action-youth-summer nexus is a stirring myth for marketing departments, a Grail legend for M.B.A.'s. Ordinary moviegoers, however -- and especially those over 25 -- tend to view this achievement as rather a mixed blessing. What if, some pleasant evening in July, you want to go to the movies, but just don't feel like a blow-you-through-the-back-wall-of-the-theater experience? You're out of luck, and that could make you a tad resentful toward ''Jaws'' and its spawn. But that feeling should be resisted, because ''Jaws,'' like ''The Godfather,'' is a great film. And it, too, deserves immunity from prosecution for the crimes of present-day Hollywood.

In order to grant ''Jaws'' the coveted ''Godfather'' exemption, though, it may be necessary for film historians and the higher-minded segment of the film audience to overcome a few prejudices about genre. ''Jaws'' is, after all, fundamentally a horror movie. There's a rugged, nautical-adventure component to the second half of the picture, in which the three main characters -- Police Chief Brody, an icthyologist named Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) and the salty old shark-hunter Quint (Robert Shaw) -- roam the coastal waters in search of the giant homicidal fish. But the movie has a lot more in common with ''Dracula'' than with ''Moby-Dick.'' This great white shark is no Great White Whale, gorging on metaphor; it's a monster, pure and simple, and its sole purpose is to generate fear.

That's the essence of the horror genre -- in fact, the only way of defining it that connects supernatural thrillers about ghosts and vampires with sci-fi monster movies (''The Thing,'' the ''Alien'' series), and also with slasher and serial-killer sagas (''Halloween,'' ''The Silence of the Lambs'') that don't require the viewer to believe in occult forces, life after death, the Devil, or extraterrestrial organisms. The shark of ''Jaws,'' as conceived by Peter Benchley, the author of the best-selling 1973 novel, is a natural predator exaggerated just enough to turn it into an acceptable horror-story nemesis: it's described as a ''rogue,'' with atypical feeding patterns that almost suggest a purpose, a malevolent will; and it's larger than normal, making it, of course, that much harder to kill. Those are the characteristics requisite to a monster: a whiff of evil and an aura of invincibility.

And Mr. Spielberg, who had successfully attributed those very qualities to, of all things, a big truck in the television movie ''Duel'' (1971), knew even more than Mr. Benchley did about the mechanics of producing fear. One of the reasons the film is so much better than the book is that Mr. Spielberg is more single-minded in his dedication to scaring us silly; he eliminated the novel's distracting subplots, and his editing rhythm is so unsettling that the audience never gets the chance to relax, even during apparent lulls and scenes of comic relief. We're always aware of something awful under the placid surface.

How much an individual viewer actually enjoys that unremitting tension is, I suppose, a matter of temperament. What makes a horror movie more disturbing than other kinds of suspense thrillers and action movies -- police dramas, say, or the international intrigue Tom Clancy serves up -- is that the anxiety it generates is magnified by a sense of helplessness: you're up against a force that can't be mastered by reason. Many adults, especially those of the well-educated, professionally accomplished variety, don't like that feeling one bit and may complain about having been manipulated by a genuinely scary movie like ''Jaws.'' (If there's manipulating to be done, they're going to be the ones to do it.) Those of us who don't feel quite so masterly are a good deal more comfortable with the horror experience. Teenagers get it in a big way.

Two years after ''Jaws'' opened, Mr. Spielberg himself sounded a little sheepish about what he'd done, almost apologetic about the film's effectiveness. ''I have very mixed feelings about my work on that picture,'' he said. ''I saw it again and realized it was the simplest movie I had ever seen in my life. It was just the essential moving, working parts of suspense and terror.'' He was unfair to himself. Of the thousands of suspense-and-terror machines constructed for the movies in the medium's first century, only a few have made their ''moving, working parts'' function so smoothly. (Even though the movie's mechanical shark, famously, didn't work very well at all.) But Mr. Spielberg didn't want to be known as, in his words, ''a shark-and-truck director,'' perhaps in part because, like all young virtuosos -- he was 28 when ''Jaws'' opened -- he had a tendency to get bored with his own facility, to undervalue the skills that other artists would sell their souls for.

And he probably suspected, too, that as a director of horror movies he would never be taken entirely seriously as a filmmaker and might even wind up looking faintly disreputable. (The career of his friend Brian De Palma would, over the next 10 years, provide confirmation of that suspicion.) Mr. Spielberg could have used some of the magisterial confidence of Alfred Hitchcock, who was always inordinately proud of ''Psycho'' -- the ''Jaws'' of 1960 -- precisely because it was the film in which he exercised the most absolute control over viewers' responses. The master of suspense wasn't apologetic about creating fear, because it's a potent emotion, and he was fortunate (or, if you will, cynical) enough to believe that for a filmmaker no emotion was better than any other.

Hitchcock may not have been right about that. The sheer terror of ''Psycho'' is less complex, and less rewarding for the audience, than the metaphysical dread that informs ''Vertigo.'' And fear, it should be said, is potentially more dangerous than many other emotions: wielded by demagogues and propagandists, it can be hugely destructive. But it doesn't have to be, and it doesn't have to be moronically simple, either. ''Jaws'' is the proof.

Although Mr. Spielberg's technical prowess is ideally suited to the horror genre, his temperament really isn't. He brings a rather sunny outlook to extremely dark material, a contrast that weirdly enhances the paradox at the center of Mr. Benchley's story: the juxtaposition of summertime fun and sudden, violent death. (In ''Jaws,'' a day at the beach isn't exactly a day at the beach.) Mr. Spielberg doesn't merely juxtapose those elements but seems rather to unite them; they meet, somehow, at the horizon.

What struck me as I watched ''Jaws'' again recently (there's a good letterboxed video but no DVD yet) is how much more humor and beauty Mr. Spielberg brings to it than it really needs to be an effective genre piece. The interplay of the three men in the boat is often hilarious (think, for example, of the improvised-looking scene in which they drunkenly compare scars), and even the most shocking bits of carnage are so elegantly conceived that they have a sort of perverse wit. For all the relentless, terrifying momentum ''Jaws'' builds up, it's an unusually companionable horror picture: it doesn't oppress viewers with claustrophobic atmosphere or try to wow them with special effects. As far as I can tell, there isn't a single process shot in the movie. The ocean and the clear sky are allowed to be themselves, and so are the three sensibly apprehensive men who move through this gorgeous setting in search of the beast. ''Jaws'' makes fear look natural -- which of course, it is. In this picture, we understand terror so well we can even laugh at it.

I don't mean to denigrate ''Jaws'' by making it sound profound. This is not the sort of picture that wants the audience to think too hard. It's a visceral-experience movie, and its distinction, I believe, is that it's truer to the experience of physical fear than any other horror movie, before or since. I also wouldn't want to claim that the film's influence hasn't been a little pernicious. We'd all give a lot, I'm sure, to have been spared the overbearing action-and-horror fests of the past 25 summers (including, prominently, Mr. Spielberg's own ''Jaws'' knockoff ''Jurassic Park''). But it's time to let ''Jaws'' off the hook. Like the great white, it is what it is, and does what it does with extraordinary efficiency and power. And so what if most of its descendants have been terrible? If every summer movie were as good as ''Jaws,'' none of us would ever get to the beach.

Mr. Cowlin here again. Here's my question: Three decades after Jaws was first released, do you think the legacy it has left has made the world of entertainment a better place, or not? (Please answer in a thoughtful, thorough answer. Please refer to the article to support your claims. Please also note that this entry will be worth 10 points instead of the usual 5, so give yourself some time to really think about this one.)

The Holiday 9:45

Taylor and The Holiday:

In London, Iris Simpkins (Kate Winslet) is a wedding columnist for a popular newspaper. She has been in love with fellow colleague Jasper Bloom for three years and he has just gotten engaged to another colleague, the woman he cheated on Iris with. Over in Los Angeles, Amanda Woods (Cameron Diaz) is a highly successful movie trailer maker who has just broken up with her boyfriend and doesn’t shed a tear. Both women find each other on a home exchange website and both their worlds are turned upside down as they switch houses for two weeks. Along their journeys, Amanda learns to love and Iris learns to let go in this film by Nancy Meyers.



Iris has just been assigned to write about Jasper Bloom’s wedding. Iris and Jasper had been together for three years prior to this event, until Iris caught Jasper cheating on her with the woman Jasper is now marrying. Despite having found Jasper cheating on her, Iris stays friends with Jasper, being to in love with him to let go. At nine minutes and forty-five seconds, Iris is on her way home from the office party where the wedding was announced. The fact the love of her life refuses to love her back is tearing her up inside.


This shot is completely brilliant in my opinion. Iris is feeling completely alone, has no one by her side or loving her and in this shot two couples are on either side of her. This over-exemplifies the feeling that Iris is utterly alone. A couple frames after this one, three more couples pass her as well. Everyone around her has someone to love and be with and she is all by herself, small and lonely. The couple in front of her is also very tall, making her look ever more miniscule and pathetic. Like I said before, the fact that the love of her life is marrying someone else is tearing her up inside and this is clearly visible by the expression on her face. She is just looking down, lost and drowning in the feeling that she will never have anyone to love her back. The wide shot allows more people in the shot at a given time, so this makes the couples idea work so well. Being able to see all the couples and Iris.


When I was looking through the movie for snapshots, I figured that I was looking for a shot where a lot was happening. But then I saw this and when I really thought about it, realized this was a well planned out shot. Am I reading too much into it, or do you guys agree that the couples were put there for the exact reasons I explained?

Fight Club: 1:26

Allen and Fight Club:

Fight Club was originally a book written by Chuck Palahniuk, than later turned into a film with the same name, Fight Club (1999) directed by David Fincher. It is about an unnamed protagonist, an everyday man who is unhappy with his white-collar job, and therefore he forms a “fight club” with a soap sales man by the name of Tyler Durden. Tyler Durden is the alter-ego of the unnamed man, which means he is nonexistent. Tyler forms a relationship with a woman by the name of Marla Singer (Helena Bonham Carter) the two meet in a support group for testicular cancer, Tyler than confronts Marla and addresses that she is a fake, and likewise Marla does the same. Marla phones the unknown man after an overdose, and gets rejected, but when she calls Tyler, he helps her out. The whole movie is filled with scenarios where a person can do either option one or option two. The scene that I am going to explain is when Edward Norton is sitting and staring into the barrel of a 9mm handgun.


This scene does not have an introduction due to the fact that this is the very first scene of the movie; all the audience knows about the film is that there is a guy sitting while a gun is lodged in his mouth. At 1:02 Edward Norton is facing dead into the barrel of a 9mm handgun where he is scared for his life. This director did an amazing job capturing the fear of Edward Norton perfectly. The sweat on his forehead, the bulging eyes, the black eye, and of course the gun perfectly centered in his mouth. The scene only has a gun and a face which expands across the whole screen to stress the importance of this scene because in the end of the film the scene will make sense.


The scene does not only capture a man with a gun in his mouth, but it captures the readers minds. What I mean by that is, this is an opening scene…most films can end with this but the director chose to make this the opening scene so that the viewer can think of a million different reasons why Edward Norton has a gun in his mouth.


After learning about Mis En Scene, I realized that the director has a very tough task when it comes to putting stuff in front of the camera. The gun that was chosen was a 9mm handgun; it’s a simple, easy to use gun that gets the job done. The black eye was a great addition because it may give the audience reasons to think that he got beat up by a person, and now that person is about to kill him. The way that the camera is focused is unique also, which is one of my most favorite thing that directors do; the focus was clearly on the gun and Edward where the background was not so much faded out, but blurry which tells the viewer to look at the stuff that is clear, the director is basically pointing to the gun with a sign that says “LOOK HERE!” and I love when directors do that and in these scene I think it was done greatly.


I think the scene was obviously a metaphor. Norton finally got confident enough to get rid of his "stronger" personality and that's the main reason why Tyler Durden died. It's not so much details; it's more so the fact of the thought that counts. In the end of the film, the audience realized that Edward Norton has a split personality by the name of Tyler Durden. He is struggling with keeping up with Tyler and his life is getting ruined day by day because Tyler is more of a “bad-ass” which allows Edward to punch people, hurt people, make them bleed, have sex with Marla, among many other things. The real Edward did not want to do any of these things so he finally gets sick of it and takes the gun and shoots himself in the mouth without killing himself; only damaging his cheek, which eliminates Tyler. The film ended with Tyler and Marla standing in the middle of the screen in a semi-long shot which symbolizes that Tyler is dead and Edward can live his life the way he wants to.

Can’t Hardly Wait 28:13

Tara and Can't Hardly Wait:

Harry Alfont and Deborah Kaplan’s film Can’t Hardly Wait is a dramatic, attempted comedy about a high school’s last “hoorah” party. It’s plain, forgettable Preston Meyers’ (Ethan Embry) last chance to get the girl who got away, Amanda Beckett (Jennifer Love Hewitt), fun-loving prom queen. He continually fantasizes about the first time he met her—she was eating his favorite Pop Tart, and he let her slip away into cocky football player, Mike Dexter’s paws when he hesitated to give her a tour of the school. The plot unravels at a house party gone horribly wrong; students are drunk, having sex and ready to party. Amanda gains her independence, Preston pursues the girl of his dreams, along with an array of other occurrences that change the students’ lives forever.


In this scene, at 28:13, Preston’s friend Denise (Lauren Ambrose) has been dragged along to this party so Preston can drool over Amanda more and finally get the courage to talk to her. She is extremely uncomfortable in this situation, unfamiliar with the atmosphere at raging high school parties. Preston wanders off in search of Amanda and Denise is left alone, to find a ride home and fend for herself in an environment that could be compared to a riot—disastrous, destructive and unpredictable.


The awkward high angle shot emphasizes her relative insignificance at the party and creates a sense of aesthetic awkwardness in the scene. The wide angle lens makes the distance between her and the rest of the people at the party even greater. The sort of ring around her where people keep their distance signifies the personality gap between herself and the rest of the students at the party. This is not her idea of fun—and it shows, yet everyone else seems to be having a blast. The people on her right and left are enthralled in conversation with other people, completely unaware of Denise’s presence. Her minuteness is also depicted with her smallness in the frame. She looks feeble and meek in this medium shot. She fiddles with her hands and awkwardly fusses with her jacket. Lauren Ambrose’s acting really strengthens this role because she causes the audience to feel her awkwardness and discomfort with the situation.


Her clothing sets her apart as well. While everyone else is clothed in t-shirts and tank tops, Denise is wearing a slightly gothic looking holy shirt and an awkward faux leather jacket which she awkwardly takes off and puts back on, unable to decide which is better. The fact that she is placed right in the middle of the couch, right in the middle of the frame is perfect for this scene because it isolates her more and it emphasizes her in the screen. The ugly couch she is sitting on separates her from the rest of the party, creating a wall between her and any contact with the other partygoers. She is even enclosed by the two pillows facing towards her, as though blockades from even the people on the sides of her. The hideous lamp in the background also disconnects her from the rest of the party and just makes the scene just a little bit more off.


The light on Denise’s face illuminates her, as if everyone’s eyes are on her—including the audience’s—and increases the discomfort emitted. She draws in the viewer’s attention. The rest of the background is mostly all one dull droning color, yet with Denise illuminated by the orange light, it puts the spotlight on her. There is even a man in the top right corner that almost looks as though he’s saying, “What is she doing just sitting there? This is a party!”


Ironically I just noticed, this frame is almost symmetrical, with Denise right in the center, the couch right in the center, people on both sides of her, and a lamp with a model ship on the other side. I would think that this is implying this type of outcast feeling she has, is not completely foreign to her, as though it happens all the time. Also, I think it shows that she does not really desire to change herself in order to fit in—that she is balanced the way she is and I think if she did fit in, it would throw the balance of herself and the movie. That might be taking it a little too far, I’m not sure.


So, without seeing the movie, do you think that from this frame you would be able to pick up the fact that she is uncomfortable with being at this party? Secondly, do you think that the couch represents the divide between her and the party, and how would the story be different if that couch was not there?

Shutter Island 74:40

Here's Rachel's take on Shutter Island:

Martin Scorsese’s Shutter Island takes place in 1954 after WWII. Two U.S. marshals are assigned to investigate a disappearance of a patient, Rachel Solando, at the Ashecliffe Hospital for the criminally insane. The hospital is located off the shores of Boston on an island called, Shutter Island. One of the marshals, Teddy Daniels, has been trying to get an assignment to the Ashecliffe Hospital for personal reasons. Teddy feels that something is not right and is determined to find out what is really happening. Teddy realizes Rachel could not have survived this long and has to be dead due to harsh weather conditions and high security. The hospital denies Teddy’s conclusion. Teddy soon gets an idea of what could have happened to Rachel. Teddy concludes that the hospital has done something to her or is hiding something. The hospital does not let the marshals to access the hospital’s records though. Teddy and his partner question patients and staff and hear many rumors about Ashecliffe. Soon afterwards, Teddy starts to question the hospital and then starts to question himself.

The hospital has “mysteriously” found Rachel and Teddy beings to question the entire hospital. Teddy begins to talk to patients and investigate what is really going on. Teddy has heard rumors about the lighthouse and what things are going on in there. The suspicious Teddy is convinced to find out the truth. He and his partner set off searching for truth. At 74 minutes and 40 seconds, Teddy and his partner have hiked through the woods trying to find a way to get to the lighthouse. The two have hiked through the woods and come to a cliff, where they can see the lighthouse. The men now have to find a way to get to the lighthouse in the cold water, rough waves, and the current.

The environment in this frame portrays a New England island. The movie was filmed on location in order to get the realistic feel of the island. The actors are in an environment surrounded by trees, big rocks, water, and a dark sky. Teddy and his partner do not have any props, which shows how the two men cannot trust anyone. The no props also symbolizes isolation with the people around them. The colors in this frame are also very earthy displaying the nature around the marshals.

Low key lighting was used in this shot to make the shot look darker. The dark light makes the scene feel gloomy. Since Teddy and his partner had to escape from the hospital in order to find the lighthouse, the dark and gloomy shows how the two are being watched and have to be sneaky to find out the truth. The lighting also shows the rough condition of the environment and how hard it will be for the men to achieve their goal of getting to the lighthouse.

The clothing Teddy and his partner wear is the same as what the patients at Ashecliffe wear. The two men wearing the same clothing displays how alike they are to the patients, which is not true. The marshals wearing the same clothing as the patients also show how the men are treated. The men are treated just like patients in the sense that they have to follow the same rules.

The two marshals played by Leonardo DiCaprio and Mark Ruffalo both act in modern way. The two both study the character and then become them. This modern way of acting shows the best results and a more realistic feel. DiCaprio and Ruffalo both use credibility in the context of the movie to make their characters feel more believable.

The two marshals are staged on the opposite side of the frame from the lighthouse. The distance between the men and the lighthouse shows the obstacles the marshals will have to overcome to get to the lighthouse. The two men are positioned on rocks making them higher than the lighthouse. This shows how powerful and important the men truly are. The height difference also shows that the lighthouse is indeed important to finding out the mystery but will be easy to accomplish.

The marshals and the lighthouse stand on opposite sides of the frame. Why or why not was this effective?

Run Around

Here's an analysis of Run Lola Run. Give it a read, and then check back in with me at the end.

Movie Maid

Crissa-Jean Chappell. Film Comment. New York: Sep/Oct 1999. Vol. 35, Iss. 5; pg. 4, 1 pgs.  Copyright Film Society of Lincoln Center Sep/Oct 1999.

"Do YOU LOVE ME?" Lola wants to know. Her dim-witted boyfriend better mumble the correct response, because she's about to save his life. For twenty minutes, Lola (upcomer Franka Potente) will barrel her way across Berlin, searching for quick cash while an incessant techno beat blares in the background. German director-writer-musician Tom Tykwer opens his 81-minute musing on choice and chance with a quote from T.S. Eliot's "Four Quartets." A pixilated blur of people bustle against the suburban landscape, never seeming to notice one another. The mockserious voiceover broods about man, "the most mysterious species on our planet." What is the human race? Where did it come from? Of course, these questions are posed by human beings, the only group capable of wondering ... or answering.

Some have chastised Run Lola Run for assuming "arthouse" pretensions, as if foreign films must always cater to the intellectual - or resort to self-indulgent navelgazing - because that's what stuffy Germans do, according to close-minded critics. Because the 34-year-old Tykwer makes use of a self-composed electronic score ("youth music") and accentuates visual gags to an exaggerated degree (including jump cuts, quick edits, instant replay, slo-mo, montage, and animation), he mustn't have anything to say. He's having too much fun.

Maybe this kneejerk response is true of recent overseas fare - Britain's Lock, Stock. and Two Smoking Barrels, Denmark's highly overrated Celebration, Austria's Funny Games - that garnered attention for nonconventional cinematography and narrative (without being half as intriguing as the UK's Trainspotting or our own Pulp Fiction). These films fashioned themselves as groundbreaking. Actually, they had more in common with Hollywood action pics or "pop" music, carefully composed to manipulate an audience response - base-level "shock value."

Lola's slim, what-if? plot, though hardly new (its strategies having been explored as long ago as the French New Wave, e.g., Resnais's Last Year at Marienbad), has tacked some modern spins on the old existential question concerning destiny (does it exist?), not just in terms of tricky camerawork or a cute, nonlinear reorganization of events, but a hidden subtext that speaks to a particular generation of disillusioned, rising middle-class kids who refuse to look backward.

Examine the token people who surround young Lola. There's Papa, wheeling and dealing in a high-power exec position, secretly unhappy with his destiny despite a fawning mistress and a comfortable income. There's Mama, sitting in front of a television that features a cartoon rendering of her punky, flame-haired daughter racing down the apartment stairs. Not that she'd notice - she's too busy talking astrology on the phone. Then, most interestingly, there are the nameless passersby who slam into Lola as she gallops against the clock: a bike-pedaling boy, a mean-spirited woman pushing a baby carriage. Tykwer hilariously flashforwards (three times) into distinct futures that alter whenever Lola whizzes past. One person is struck by cancer; another wins a lottery. It almost seems that Lola's flight is changing their course of history. Could something so simple create that enormous an impact? This smacks a little of Chaos Theory, the butterfly's demise in Australia that could cause a stock market collapse on Wall Street. It's an evocative idea: that every innocent choice, no matter how insignificant, can ignite a chain reaction of possible consequences.

The hypersurrealist setting, modem Berlin, worships tradition even as it heralds the fashionable and unorthodox. See Lola run smack into an ominous flock of nuns. As they part to allow her passage, we behold their black-and-white habits, their blank expressions aimed at Lola, the postmodern woman with a male movie hero's mission. Check out her crazy green gingham pants, the lacy bra peeking beneath her sweat-rimmed tank top, the Gothic tattoos on her muscular skin. This is - and isn't - our world, hints the director (who lends Lola the power to shatter glass with her high-pitched scream). This is our world through his epileptic camera ... and makes no claim to deny it. In fact, he accentuates it. We can't deny we're watching a movie. We, like Lola, are made of movies.

Is it even worth asking: Can we classify this mix of sound and image as a motion picture? Or is Lola a video game? (Not until the audience can control, as well as choose, the outcome. Which could happen very soon.) Is Lola a feature-length music. video? (Are music videos minimovies? In some cases, yes. Same with commercial; that tell a story.) If Lola is a movie, which genre applies? It contains elements of road movies, lovers-on-the-run, gangster robberies, and most obviously, action, one of the oldest movie formats (and the most stylized, a la Buster Keaton). Tykwer plays with action movie staples, like men crossing the street with a pane of glass. His world has its own rules and logic, layered over a foundation of cinematic reference. The old and new collide to create something that contains a little of both.

Lola might be a movie about movies one in which the protagonist evolves a kind of eerie sentience to alter her fate outside the godlike director's hands. In the animated stair sequence, Lola passes a nasty neighbor with a dog. The first time, she trips. The second time, she leaps over his leg. She also grows bolder in her approach to Papa - to the point where she develops an almost untroubled attitude: brandishing a gun and barking orders with the calm of someone who knows everything will be okay in the end. "I don't want to go," her thoughts sigh during a death sequence. So Tykwer backs up and gives her another chance to get it right ... until the resolution Lola trulv deserves is a happy one. In a world where our own existence is touted as accidental, could a movie character hope for more?

Crissa-Jean Chappell, film critic for the Miami Sun Post, is pursuing a Ph.D. in film theory at the University of Miami.

Mr. Cowlin here again. First, Crissa-Jean Chappell asks several questions:

1. Can we classify this mix of sound and image as a motion picture? Or is Lola a video game?
2. Is Lola a feature-length music video?
3. If Lola is a movie, which genre applies?

Answer two of the three questions thoughtfully and thoroughly. Answer each in a separate entry for a separate grade.
 
Extra credit: As always, feel free to comment on the comments of your peers. Also, if you wish, you may answer the third question for extra credit.

Gladiator 145:28

Tanya did hers on a shot that comes at the end of Gladiator.

This intense, classic movie wonder is a mixture of action, drama, and Roman history. Directed by Ridley Scott, Gladiator (2000) is a story about the life of the greatest Roman army general, Maximus Decimus Meridius, played by Russell Crowe, and how the death of the Roman emperor changes his whole world. By defeating an invading Germanic tribe, Maximus proves to the emperor that he is the best there is. Seeing this amazing defeat, the emperor, Marcus Aurelius, wants Maximus to be the heir of the throne after his death instead of his own son, Commodus. When the selfish excuse of a son, Commudus, finds out his father’s plans for the future, he manages to murder his own father simply out of greed and anger. His evil plan seems to work out because he then becomes the emperor and orders Maximus to be executed. Maximus escapes his execution and goes on a journey back home to his wife and child. Except when he finds out that his family has been brutally murdered by enemy soldiers, he loses control and gets sucked into a whirlwind of different events. Maximus goes from being an army leader, to slave, to gladiator, and then to almost emperor of Rome before being reunited with his family again in the afterlife.

At 145 minutes and 28 seconds of the movie, Maximus has just defeated Commodus in a raging battle of good versus evil. The crowd is happy for a moment, knowing that Commodus has been defeated, but as they glance upon the weary look of Maximus, they know something is about to happen. With a few last words and a final breath, Maximus closes his eyes and falls to the hard ground. He is happy to be dying because he will finally be reunited with his wife and son in the afterlife, but all around him, the people of Rome and Lucilla, Commodus’ sister, are filled with sadness.

By looking at this frame of the movie, one can tell that a lot of time and effort was put into making the set and prop design resemble a believable representation of what Rome looked like many centuries ago. The huge columns placed around the setting and the tall balconies in which the audience is seated show largeness when compared to the size of the people standing near them. Also, the various large curtains and ribbons strewn around the set show royalty of the emperor and his subjects. These few major parts of the set design make the appearance of the Colosseum look entirely realistic. The props like the swords and shields which the soldiers are holding show distinct features which would only be seen in ancient Rome. They have a sort of dark, worn out look to them. The many red rose petals scattered on the solid ground give the entire scene a look that represents victory and appreciation, in this case to Maximus for his defeat of Commodus. Lastly, the dark colors of the frame show maturity, violence, and rage. There are some light colors visible, like the color of Lucilla’s dress and the white costumes of the audience, but it is mostly the dark colors that overpower the light colors. With that in mind, one can tell that the frame is meant to be very serious and mature.

The costumes and makeup are another key part of making this scene look like ancient Rome. The soldiers are all wearing dark colored, metal armor to protect them when fighting. They are fully covered in this armor from head to toe, showing that they are royal soldiers who can afford to have all of this protection. Whereas, Maximus is only partially clothed. His arms and legs are bare and he has no head/face armor. This signifies that he is not part of the royal army, but simply a gladiator. Then we see that one particular man is clothed in a very regal manner with tall boots, a long jacket, and several badges which adorn his costume. This shows that he must be the army general. Lastly, Lucilla is wearing a fancy yellow and orange dress, which only very wealthy people could own during that time. This also puts her in a high and royal position. Although the makeup of many of the characters in this frame cannot be seen, makeup throughout this movie was used to enhance the features of the characters and add wounds to the gladiators when they fought in the Colosseum.

In this frame, the light is used to accent the meaningful story behind Maximus’ death. Therefore, the area with the most light is the area right near Maximus, while anything that begins to get farther away from him, gets darker and darker. We can already see that the light is much dimmer near the army soldiers because they almost blend into the black color of the balconies. Then, all the way in the back where the audience is seated in the balconies is where the light is the faintest because one can barely even see their faces. From the circumstances in the movie, the light source is meant to look like it is coming from the sun. In this frame, we can see that the sun is directly above Maximus and that there is some kind of small roof above the balconies because there is hardly any light there.

The way that all of the characters are positioned in this frame tells their relationship to each other. First, the way Maximus is lying right in the center of the frame shows that he is the most important thing in this frame at this moment. The farther away a character is positioned from Maximus, the less important they are. Then there’s the army general who stands as the second most important figure in this frame. He was there to witness Maximus’ death and he was there to listen to his last words. Therefore, his relationship with Maximus is rather strong. Next, almost equally as important as the army general is Lucilla. Maximus and Lucilla used to have a very strong relationship before he had gotten married, and even after his marriage, they remained close friends. Out of all people, Lucilla was the one with the most emotional connection to Maximus. This is shown by the way that she is the only one running towards him.

Taking a simple frame from a movie and breaking it down into prop and set design, costume/makeup, lighting, and staging help tell the story in a more detailed way. Looking at these various mis en scene qualities help a viewer understand the secret meaning of a movie.

How do you think this frame would be if all of the characters were an equal distance away from Maximus? Would it look as though the relationship between them is different? How big of a role does staging play in this frame?

Mr. Cowlin here. You know, Tanya has an interesting tact here. She's not just asking what is going on, but what is not going on. In other words, how would changing the elements of the shot change the message/story of the shot?
 
I am, however, wondering if Tanya's use of the term "classic" is a bit premature for this film. I don't know. Do any of you think Gladiator will stand the test of time? Why or why not?

Zombieland 11:50

Here's an entry from Paul about a movie I happened to see (and really liked).

Zombieland, directed by Ruben Fleischer, is the story of two men’s lives in a post apocalyptic world. Columbus is trying to make his way back home to Columbus, Ohio in search of his parents. Columbus lives his life by a list of rules to keep him safe from the zombies roaming America. While walking on an empty highway, Columbus encounters a man, Tallahassee, in an Escalade driving down the highway. Tallahassee is trying to survive by looking for zombies to kill on his way to Florida. Tallahassee is also in search for the last Twinkie on Earth. Tallahassee offers to give Columbus a ride, but only to Texarkana. While driving the two men find an abandoned grocery store where Tallahassee goes and looks for any left Twinkies. The men have to fight off some zombies and then meet two survivors who steal their guns and car. They eventually decide to team up to go to pacific play land, a rumored zombie free zone.

At eleven minutes and five seconds, Columbus and Tallahassee have just met and are traveling down the highway on their way to Texarkana. While traveling down the highway, they see a Hostess truck on the side of the road. Columbus reviews his rules in his mind and shares another one, “Limber up”, as the men prepare to go and look what’s in the truck. Tallahassee gets his gun and gives one to Columbus. Tallahassee is annoyed on how cautious Columbus is and says, “Have you ever seen a lion limber up before he takes down a gazelle?” The armed men carefully open the trucks door and a bunch of Snowballs fall out of the truck. Tallahassee is very disappointed and the men continue on their way.

In this frame, the setting is realistic which creates a deserted and abandoned environment around the two men. The only thing around them is a highway with empty cars and dead bodies and a ditch where Hostess truck has crashed. There are no props, except for the guns that they have, which also show how deserted everything truly is and how alone that they are. The colors in this frame are very neutral and earthy since this frame is an outside shot surrounded by nature and sunlight.

3 point lighting is used to show the normality of the environment, even though there is nothing normal about the situation. The 3 different lights get rid of powerful shadows and also shows dimension. The 3 point lighting also represents the natural sunlight rather than the unnatural sunlight.

Tallahassee and Columbus are dressed in a way that makes them seem like normal Americans, which they are. The men wear jeans, a simple shirt, and a jacket. Makeup is used to make them look dirty and not washed. They look dirty because their priorities are about surviving rather than their cleanliness. Tallahassee is wearing a cowboy hat which shows his southern lifestyle where as, Columbus looks more polished because of his lifestyle.

Woody Harrelson, who plays Tallahassee, and Jesse Eisenberg, who plays Columbus, both act physically. They use hand gestures, facial expressions, and body movement, to act. For example, Woody Harrelson uses facial expressions to show how annoyed he is with Columbus. Woody and Jesse both use modern acting. They both studied their character and became them during the movie to make it even more realistic to the audience.

The overall look of the frame all matches making sure it looks realistic and believable. The frame gives the illusion of order, even though nothing is even close to being in order. The order of the scene shows how looking for the Twinkies is like their escape from the scary world of zombies and trying to stay alive.

What does the Hostess truck represent?

Mr. Cowlin here. You know, since Twinkies were used as a motif throughout the entire movie, I think the quesiton really is, why does Woody's character crave them so much in general?

Drop Dead Gorgeous: 2:38

Here's Julie's submission:

Directed by Michael Patrick Jann, Drop Dead Gorgeous (1999) is a film about a small town high school holding their annual beauty pageant. A small documentary crew was sent to Mount Rose, Minnesota to film the events leading up to the actual pageant. Gladys Leeman (Kirstie Ally) is the coordinator of the pageant and this year her daughter will be competing in it, Rebecca Ann Leeman (Denise Richards). Gladys is convinced that her daughter will be crowned Mount Rose American Teen Princess. Another girl competing in the pageant is Amber Atkins (Kirsten Dunst), who lives in a trailer park and has a part time job doing the makeup of the deceased at a funeral home. She wants to win the pageant because she wants to go to college and move out of Mount Rose in order to fulfill her dream of becoming a big-time news reporter. As it gets closer to the actual pageant two of the girls involved have died or been critically injured. Tammy Curry, the popular jock, was riding her tractor when it exploded (which killed her). This explosion was not an accident though. Another contestant, Jenelle Betz, was practicing her talent when an overhead light fell from the ceiling and caused her to become deaf (and remove herself from the pageant). Someone was trying to kill off the contestants of the beauty pageant on purpose.



At two minutes and thirty-eight seconds, the opening scene of the movie, the contestants are waiting to sign up for the pageant. They had just watched a movie about the American Teen Princess Pageant, which is where the finalist from Minnesota goes. Also, Gladys Leeman just gave a quick overview of the pageant to the contestants. The camera then cuts to the actual contestants who are sitting scattered on the school bleachers.


In this shot there is a lot to say, mis en scene wise. To start off, the color choices of the bleachers, floor, and walls used (different shades of brown) make the school seem plain and simple. These colors were chosen so the audience feels as though this is an ordinary high school in an ordinary town. There isn’t anything special about it. Also there are school banners, with school colors and mascots on them. This gives the feel of a more authentic high school because most high schools have mascots and colors. In this case, Mount Rose High school has dark red, gold, and white colors with their mascot being the Muskies.


In Drop Dead Gorgeous, the costumes and make-up were chosen specifically to represent each character. The girl sitting by the pom poms is obviously the popular cheerleader with a lot of energy. The girl wearing the letterman jacket is the sporty girl (who is only entering the pageant just for the scholarship prize). And, the girl sitting in the front row with her legs crossed, Rebecca Ann Leeman, is supposed to be the polite, well-mannered rich girl. Also, the fact that almost all the characters are resting their head on their hand or have a notebook out show that these girls are bored. They do not really care about the “history” of the pageant.


The staging (where and how the characters are placed) in this shot shows the personalities of each individual character. They could have all been sitting close together, but it would not have been realistic. None of these girls are close friends with one another. They are spaced out to create the feeling of loneliness. It also makes the whole scene more awkward for the viewers because none of the characters are interacting with each other. Also, the spacing can create tension between characters by the characters trying to isolate themselves from each other because they are competing against one another.


The overall production design of the movie is a normal public high school in a small town. In this high school there are the stereotypical high school students. The staging, costuming, and colors used show that these characters are just going through another regular day of their life. Michael Patrick Jann could have chosen this shot to have vivid colors and high angle shots, but then it wouldn’t be as simple of a scene as it is supposed to be.


My question: If this movie is all about trying to be as realistic as possible (it is a fake documentary), why is there so much symmetrical balance in this particular shot? Is it trying to create the feeling of something being “off” in this shot?

Mr. Cowlin here again. I think Julie is really getting at something with her first question here.

Action Cinema - European Style

Years ago, I read a review of Roger Ebert's. A quote in it has stuck with me ever since. In his review of the film Eyewitness, Roger Ebert wrote:

"Somebody was explaining the difference between European and American movies to me the other day: European movies are about people, but American movies are about stories."

Ebert went on to explain why, for this reason, he felt that Eyewitness, to him, felt more like a European movie that an American movie. To this day I can't watch a European film without considering whether or not the film is 'about the characters' or 'about the story.' And there are plenty of American movies I watch that, to me, feel as though they have a European aesthetic.

Questions:

1. What do you think the quotation means?
2. Forget that Run Lola Run is a literally a German film. Does it fit the above definition of 'European movie'?
3. Can you think of any American movies that, to you, feel European - for what ever reason?

Breakfast at Tiffany's - Extra Credit Flashback

We didn't havetime in class to get to this post while we were watching the movie, but I think it is still a valid problem. Feel free to view the clips and reflect on the quesitons I have at the end for exra credit.

Here are a few trailers to modern 'romantic comedies.' (They're jumbo size, so if they don't fit on your screen, just double click on each individually and the original Youtube page will pop up.)





In my opinion, these films are pretty disposable. Sure, they are made competently (for the most part) and the deliver a few laughs (sometimes) and they end with the guy and the girl getting together to live happily forever after (usually) - but still, I can't imagine anyone claiming any of them to be 'classics.'

So, here's the question: Is Breakfast at Tiffany's a classic, and if so, what makes it stand apart from these modern examples of 'romantic comedies'?

Also, are you glad we as a class watched Breakfast at Tiffany's? What did you get out of it, if anything? Be honest...

Light and Dark and the Night of the Hunter

I've been struggling with an idea, and I just can't wrap my head around it enough to present it to you. It has to do with the balance of light and dark - about the balance of positive and negative shapes (positive being the dark spaces, the spaces where somethig IS; negative being the light spaces, the spaces where something ISN'T). There's something about them in this movie.

There's an artictis princial called 'balance.' Balance with when the right side is given roughly the same 'wieght' as the left side, or the top and bottom. There are two kinds of aesthetic balance. There's symmetrical. That's when one side looks like the other - they are, to a large degree - mirror images of one another.

 

Then there's asymmetrical balance. This is when two sides are balanced, but by different sized shapes.

But even this idea of balance doesn't cover all the bases of what I'm trying to grasp at. I don't know. There's just something about the images of the film. There's almost no gray - it truly is a nearly all black and white movie.

Here's what I would like you to do. Just look at the following images. Take your time.

Now look at the following pairs of images. Most come one right after the other. Again, take your time.

  

Okay. So we touched on it in class. What's going on here? What's going on in terms of balance, positive and negative space, aesthetic tension vs. dramatic tension? Help me out. We need some theories on the subject...