A Whole New World...for Michael Corleone, not Pocahontas

The violence, corruption, and crime associated with the mafia are all considered shameful, inhumane, and unacceptable in the eyes of society. Contrary to these accepted negative connotations of the mafia, Francis Ford Coppola tells the tale of a mafia associated with honor, power, and unity in his 1972 film, The Godfather. The film chronicles the inner workings of the Corleone crime family, a fictional mafia power based in New York City. More specifically, The Godfather documents the transformation of Michael Corleone, son of Don Vito Corleone, from civilian to mafioso, from an outsider to a contributor.

From the beginning of the film, Michael’s “civilian” status renders him an outsider and outcast to the family. His relatives are all tied through the daily happenings of the family business, while Michael’s lack of desire to be involved in these affairs separates him from the rest. This, however, does not last. Then, Michael’s character takes a turn in the opposite direction when his actions secure his place in the mafia. From this instant on, Michael is no longer an outcast individual, rather, he is a significant part of the unified whole that is the Corleone mafia family. This critical scene takes place almost exactly halfway through the film. The timing of this scene is worth noting because it serves as a critical turning point, which divides the film (and Michaels character) into two major parts- First, Michael’s life as a civilian and the business of the Corleone family prior to his involvement and second, the business of the family with Michael as a key contributor. The weight of this vital scene of the film is expressed to the audience through the strategic use of sound with the support of the mise en scene and camera techniques. Coppola along with cinematographer, Gordon Willis, and sound mixer, Walter Murch, utilize both conventional and non-conventional film techniques in order to stress the weight of this significant scene, which goes against dominant ideologies and sentiments relating to the mafia by portraying it as an honorable organization. I will discuss the specific filmic conventions used in this ten-shot sequence, such as the use of the non-diegetic sound of a train and the layers of meaning behind this choice, as well as the use of the close up, and the ways in which they contribute to the meaning of the film.

In this scene, Michael has arranged a meeting with Virgil Sollozzo, a drug dealer working with another mafia family, and a corrupt policeman who supports Sollozo’s business, Captain McClusky, at a small restaurant in the Bronx. Sollozzo has ordered the assassination of Vito Corleone for his refusal to support his drug business. At this meeting, Michael plans to murder these two individuals in an effort to protect his father’s life and honor. A gun is to be planted in an old-fashioned toiled in the bathroom of the restaurant. By murdering these men, Michael is making the decision to give up his life of innocence to join his family in their business of violence and crime, which he has resisted for so many years.

Shot one starts at 1:27:23, halfway through the film. This is a wide shot, which shows Michael walking away from the Sollozzo and McClusky at the table, toward the bathroom with intentions of retrieving the weapon to murder the two men. About three seconds into this first shot, the faint sound of a train is introduced without any sign of a source. This sound bridges into the second shot, which shows Michael entering the bathroom. The sound persists and escalates as he searches with his eyes for the hiding place of the weapon until finally he reaches it and the noise fades out. In this shot, the camera is positioned back in the stall, providing a close-up of Michael walking toward the camera, moving in the direction of his goal of preventing his father from being harmed. This camera placement provides a simple mise en scene consisting of bare walls, the stall doors, and Michael himself. The close-up creates a cramped space within the bathroom, which is slightly overwhelmed by the noise that we hear, both diegetic (the toilet, pipes, and clanking or him digging through the space) and non-diegetic (sound of the train). As he approaches the toilet where the weapon is hidden, the camera pans to the right, keeping the frame of the close-up, allowing the viewer to move with Michael on his mission. Upon finding the hiding place, he begins searching for the gun. When he doesn’t find it instantly, his movements become frantic and in a bit of a panic. From this close-up, we cut to the third shot, a wide shot of Sollozzo and McClusky at the table. Here, it is practically silent with the two men sitting at the table, eating. There is almost no noise at all here as compared to the second shot and the space of the room is wide open and uncluttered. This drastic change in sound level adds to the stress of the situation. Now, we cut to the fourth shot so that we can rejoin the search for the gun. Again, the noise level instantly picks back up when we are in the bathroom and this quick and drastic change in the level of sound increases anxiety yet again. Finally, Michael finds the gun and pulls it out of its hiding place with caution, studying it. The moment he grasps the gun, the train starts back up, reminding us of the pressure and stress that Michael is feeling. This anxiety begins to build again because now that the gun is in his possession, the plan to kill for the mafia and end his life as a “civilian” is becoming a reality. A reality that he never dreamt he would experience.

Now that Michael has the gun, we cut quickly to the fifth shot and the train cuts off. This shot is practically identical to the third- a wide shot of the two men at the table in the main dining room. This time, however, the noise level in the room seems to be a little louder and at a more natural level. The sixth shot shows Michael walking toward the door to exit the bathroom. The camera pans to the left, keeping the frame of the close-up, as he exits the stall and approaches the door. Now the train starts up again and quickly becomes louder and louder. As was the case earlier, the use of the pan here allows us to take every step with Michael without any pauses or hesitations- the viewer is completely in his shoes and feeling his emotions. Just before he reaches the door, he stops to collect himself and the train becomes overwhelming. It seems as though it couldn’t come any closer. The feeling of imminent danger is upon us as the train seems to be very close until it begins to soften as Michael collects himself. As the train fades, we follow Michael out of the bathroom into the seventh shot with the sound bridge bringing him back in the presence of his two enemies until they see him and the sound fades completely.

The seventh, eigth, and ninth shots utilize the shot-reverse-shot technique with the seventh shot being an over the shoulder over Michael’s shoulder with the two men at the table in front of him, the eighth being a close-up of Michael’s face, and the ninth starting with another over the shoulder facing the men at the table. Still during the ninth shot, Michael walks toward the table to rejoin his enemies and the camera pans ever so slightly left to subtly emphasize the focus on Michael and his actions. We then cut to the tenth shot taking us through 1:29:17, starts with a close-up of Michael taking his seat. Once he is seated, not more than a second into the shot, Sollozzo begins speaking to him in Italian, however the viewer is not provided with subtitles. This forces us to focus our attention elsewhere. Michael is clearly preoccupied and we know by what. His body language reflects his nervousness and discomfort, which is further emphasized when the camera begins to zoom in on his face and we can see that he is gulping and shaking slightly. He is deep in thought, wondering when the opportune moment to carry out the plan is! Now the sound of the train starts back up as we continue to zoom even more into this close-up. The level of sound increases slowly at first, but as we zoom in closer and the anxiety builds, the train starts roaring and it spirals out of control until it is the loudest and feels the closest that it has been, screeching around a dangerous turn. The mood is chaotic and stressful until finally, Michael’s expression goes from nervous to a look of determination and certainty. Based on this last shot, we know that Michael decides to follow through with his plan and does in fact shoot Sollozzo and McClusky, securing his life as a mafioso.

In his interview with Michael Jarrett, Walter Murch discusses the three main rules of sound editing. He explains that quality sound editing will affect each of the following: emotion, story, and rhythm. The first two go hand-in-hand as Murch states, “you choose sounds that help people to feel the story of what you’re doing.” Francis Ford Coppola and Murch utilized the non-diegetic sound of a train in order to speak to each of these three rules of sound editing.

Why did Coppola choose the sound of the train? Would any escalating noise have supported the stress and anxiety Michael’s struggle just the same? Or is there more meaning to the train than meets the eye, or more appropriately, the ear?

First of all, the scene is set in the Bronx, where one would be very likely to hear the sound of an elevated train passing above a restaurant. In this sense, the train is an appropriate choice and supports the realistic nature of the choice. On a different level, the sound of the train is used to contribute to the depth of the story while instilling the appropriate emotions within in the viewer. This sound and the way in which the level of the sound is manipulated allows the viewer to feel what Michael is going through emotionally throughout this life-altering experience. Graeme Turner discusses sound as a signifying practice on page 83 of his work, Film as Social Practice IV by stating, “music swelling at the point of a romantic clinch is not manipulation but recourse to even more direct means of communicating with the audience.” Although Coppola doesn’t use music in this shot sequence, this statement is not only true of music. Any source of sound can serve as a means of emphasizing the mood and the emotions involved in a scene. This quote speaks directly to the use of sound in this ten-shot-sequence. The repetition of the sound of the train relates to this idea of speaking directly to the emotions of the audience beyond what is possible using dialogue and diegetic sound alone. By using a sound with an unseen, or external source, the audience is caught off guard. The repetition of this sound allows the audience to associate the emotion of anxiety or stress with the sound of the train approaching. Just as Turner discusses music “swelling” at the climax of a romance, the use of the sound of the train here is directly related to the intensity of the plot at that moment.

The history of the railways and its connotations emphasize the different layers of meaning in the scene. Murch discusses this history and it’s connotations in the interview by saying, “over time people have had a lot of associations with trains…trains were the thing that talked to you about travel. If you wanted to go anywhere, you went on a train. The whole idea of moving from place to place in the world was dominated by that sound.” This use of the train in terms of the association with travel and getting from point A to point B, or going from “place to place”, relates directly to Michael’s transition from being a civilian to becoming involved in the mafia. He is going from point A, life as an outsider who is uninvolved in the “family business”, to point B, becoming a key player in the Corleone mafia family. This transition or “travel” is represented metaphorically by the use of the sound of the train.

In the early years of the locomotive industry, different railways served a number of purposes, carried different goods, and worked independently of one another. As this industry developed and expanded, the individual railways started to collaborate efforts and eventually joined forces to form larger locomotive companies, which had a number of functions including the transport of goods in addition to a form of transportation for people. These large companies proved to be much more powerful and practical. Keeping in mind this transformation that took place within the locomotive industry, the train in The Godfather forms a very relevant parallel to the change that is taking place in the character of Michael Corleone. Similar to the individual railways, Michael acted as an individual separate from the mafia. An outsider to his family, he was considered a “civilian” and an ivy-league pretty boy who had nothing to contribute to his famly. He swore to never participate in the family business and was personally opposed to the practices of the mafia. Despite this moral opposition to the ways of the mafia, he clearly possesses a great deal of respect for his father and the rest of the family. When his father’s life is threatened by other mafia families, Michael takes it upon himself to protect his father’s life and the family’s honor. In order to do this, Michael plans to shoot and kill the two men responsible for threatening his father’s life. In forming this agenda to commit murder, Michael is essentially planning to give up his life of innocence in order to conform to the ways of the mafia and become a part of the family business. The theme of collaboration is seen through Michael’s transformation, just as it was seen in the evolution of the railways. Just as in this evolution of the railways yielding a positive outcome, Michael’s conforming to the ways of the mafia is portrayed in a positive light, going against the dominant ideologies relating to the mafia as an organization with negative connotations.

Finally, the sound of the train by its nature keeps a certain rhythm. While this rhythm doesn’t play a primary roll in developing the scene, it still follows the rules of sound editing and provides consistency throughout the scene.

This use of the sound of the train proves to be very effective in instilling the appropriate emotions in the viewer, however, it is even more influential when coupled with other filmic techniques such as the mise en scene. The dichotomy between the cramped bathroom with overwhelming sound and the open, silent dining room and the cuts between these two settings creates a tension, which contributes to the feelings of anxiety and stress. The space in the bathroom is so little that the room seems to fill with noise very easily, conveying the overwhelmed state of our protagonist. This relationship between sound and mise en scene is most effective at the end of shot 6 when Michael stops and reflects on the situation at hand. His head is in the center of the frame and holds 100% of our focus due to the lack of other visual stimulation and the train that seems to be coming right at us based on the sound. An interesting thing to think about is the way that Coppola approached this idea of reflection. Coppola could have included a shot of Michael collecting himself by looking in the mirror as would be a natural thing to do. The use of the mirror would physically represent Michael’s moment to reflect on his plan and how his life will change if he follows through with it. While the shot would make sense in the context of the scene, it would also take away from the powerful use of sound and make the feelings associated with the use of the train less influential. Rather, Coppola allows the sound and the character’s body language to speak for itself. This affects the viewer in a subtle fashion, whereas the use of the mirror would be making too direct of a statement and would most likely force emotion rather than encouraging it to happen naturally. The simplicity of this relationship between the mise on scene and the sound does not distract the viewer from the plot line and allows them to feel what Michael is feeling in a way that is organic rather than forced.

Similar to the mise en scene, certain camera techniques serve to compliment the use of sound in this shot sequence. Willis utilizes both the pan and the close-up in multiple shots in this sequence. Although the pan is effective, the close-up serves multiple purposes and adds to the depth of emotion. Walter Benjamin discusses this effect of the close-up shot in his piece, “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”. Through the use of the close-up “…an unconsciously penetrated space is substituted for a space consciously explored by man”. Additionally this technique gives the viewer a more focused look at the gestures and mannerisms of individual characters that would generally be overshadowed by larger scale happenings within the scene. “The act of reaching for a lighter or a spoon is familiar routine, yet we hardly know what really goes on between hand and metal, not to mention how this fluctuates with our moods…The camera introduces us to unconscious optics as does psychoanalysis to unconscious impulses.” This idea of “unconscious optics” speaks directly to shots two and four. Michael is frantically searching for the weapon that will determine the fate of his character and his father’s life. We know that he is simply reaching into the hiding place and feeling around for the gun, however the use of the close-up reveals much more to us. We see his jerky motions, the shaking of his hands and his nervous posture. Even more significant, we are able to see his facial expression of fear and uncertainty paralleled with his shaking hands and uncertain movements.

The close-up is used along with zoom in the final shot before Michael shoots the individuals threatening his father. The use of zoom on the close-up not only brings us closer to the Michael physically, however it also conveys the sense of peering into his mind and thinking through his actions with him. By invading that personal barrier of space, particularly in an area as vulnerable as his face, the audience easily feels what Michael is feeling and knows what his next step is after the tenth shot. We see this technique in a previous scene when Michael first decides that he will take it upon himself to kill his father’s enemies and end the threat to his life and honor. The repetition of this technique not only brings us emotionally closer to Michael as our protagonist, but it also frames the situation from beginning to end. We zoom and break this personal barrier in the initial planning process, we see the plan develop, follow the execution of it, and finally, we break that personal barrier once again in order to feel what Michael is feeling in the moment before his life is changed for good.

One final thing to note deals with the movement of the characters and the camera throughout the ten-shot sequence. During the sequence, we follow Michael out of the dining room, into the bathroom, out of the bathroom, and back into his chair at the table. During this time, the camera moves in order to show us Sollozzo and McClusky at the table at various times, however, these characters themselves never physically move. This dichotomy of Michael’s constant motion and change of location throughout the scene contrasted with the static position of the other two men further represents the change that is taking place in Michael’s character.

When people think of Francis Ford Coppola’s 1972 film, The Godfather, they think of a film about the Italian-American mafia. While this is an accurate association, the film is not about the mafia as a whole, rather, it documents the transformation of an individual, Michael Corleone, from an independent civilian to a key player in the Corleone mafia family. This focus on Michael is shows through strategic sound editing with the support of various cinematography techniques and the mise en scene. These filmic conventions serve to both document and glorify this transformation. The Godfather makes the statement that Michael’s cross over from soldier and college-graduate to Mafioso, which occurs in the above shot sequence, is a positive happening.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nrsMj4MWQ4

WORKS CITED

Benjamin, Walter. “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction.” Film

Theory and Criticism. Eds. Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen. New York, NY:

Oxford University Press, 2009. 665-685.

Jarrett, Michael, and Walter Murch. "Sound Doctrine: An Interview with Walter Murch." Film Quarterly 53.3 (2000): 2-11. Print.

The Godfather. Dir. Francis Ford Coppola. Paramount Pictures, 1972.

Turner, Graeme. Film as Social Practice. Fourth Edition. London: Routledge, 1988. 83.

Michael Corleone: A Changed Man

Shot by Shot Analysis of The Godfather (1972)

Michael Corleone is the youngest child of Vito Corleone, Don of the Corleone crime family, one of the most influential Italian mafia families in New York City. He was always considered a “civilian” when it came to the family business, however, when his father’s life becomes the target of other mafia families, Michael takes it upon himself to protect his father.

In this sequence from Francis Ford Coppola’s 1972 film, The Godfather, sound techniques such as the repetition of the sound of a train, sound levels, and sound bridging, along with camera techniques such as panning, shot-reverse-shot, and the close up are used to create the uneasy, anxious mood of this critical scene. This scene is a turning point in the film, therefore, it was necessary for both Coppola and Gordon Willis, the cinematographer, to utilize these various sound and camera techniques in order to emphasize the significance of the scene.

Virgil Sollozzo, a representative of another mafia family, orders the assassination of Vito Corleone because he refuses to support their drug business. In this scene, Michael Corleone has arranged to meet with both Sollozzo and the corrupt policeman, Captain McClusky, who supports Sollozzo. They meet at a small Italian restaurant, where the Corleone family has planted a gun that Michael will use to kill both Sollozzo and McClusky. In this ten-shot sequence, starting at 1:27:22 and ending at 1:29:17, we see the build up to the killing of these two men and the one-hundred-eighty degree turn that Michael Corleone makes in regards to his involvement in the family business.

In the first shot, Michael walks away from Sollozzo and McClusky at the table and exits the scene, walking toward the bathroom where the gun is planted above an old-fashioned toilet. About three seconds into this first shot, the sound of a train is introduced for the first time. This non-diegetic sound catches the viewer off guard, creating an uneasy mood and environment. A sound bridge connects the first and second shot with the sound of the train. In this second shot, Corleone enters the bathroom and is frantically searching with his eyes for this hiding place where he can find the weapon. As he is walking through the bathroom on his mission, the sound of the train gets louder as if it is approaching and getting closer as the tension of the plot builds. This feeling of danger instilled in the viewer by the idea that a train is coming at them and approaching faster and faster goes hand-in-hand with the level of anxiety that is rising within Michael. The camera pans to the right as Michael walks toward the toilet where the gun is hidden. This pan takes us on this mission with Michael and allows us to discover and approach the hiding place of the weapon as Michael does. Michael begins to frantically search for the gun when we cut to the third shot of Sollozzo and McClusky at the table in the main part of the restaurant. The difference in sound from this second shot to the third and then to the fourth is very drastic. While Michael is searching for the weapon in the second shot, we hear the toilet running, the clanking and banging of him digging around where the gun is hidden and the overall noise within the room is almost overwhelming. When we cut to the third shot, it is practically silent with the two men sitting at the table, eating. There is almost no noise at all here as compared to the second shot. In this third shot, McClusky looks toward the bathroom as if wondering what is taking Michael so long. This drastic change in sound level and the actions of McClusky add to the stress of the situation because the viewer knows what is happening on the other side of that wall. McClusky’s supposed concern leads the viewer back into the bathroom for the fourth shot so that we can rejoin the search for the gun. Again, the noise level instantly picks back up when we are in the bathroom and this quick and drastic change in the level of sound increases anxiety. Finally, Michael finds the gun and pulls it out of its hiding place with caution, studying it. The moment he grasps the gun, the train starts back up, reminding us of the pressure and stress that Michael is feeling. This anxiety begins to build again because now that the gun is in his possession, the plan to kill for the mafia and end his life as a “civilian” is becoming a reality. A reality that he never dreamt he would experience.

Now that Michael has the gun, we cut quickly to the fifth shot, which is practically identical to the third. This time, however, the noise level in the room seems to be a little louder even though the sound of the train stopped. Once again, McClusky directs his gaze toward the restroom, waiting for the door to open and for Michael to reenter the room. The sixth shot shows Michael walking toward the door to exit the bathroom. The camera pans to the left as he exits the stall and approaches the door, while the train starts up again and quickly becomes louder and louder. As was the case earlier, the use of the pan here allows us to take every step with Michael without any pauses or hesitations- the viewer is completely in his shoes and feeling his emotions. Just before he reaches the door, he stops to collect himself and the train becomes overwhelming. It seems as though it couldn’t come any closer. Once he has calmed down a bit, Michael exits the bathroom and the train fades out.

The three shots that follow utilize the shot-reverse-shot technique with the seventh shot being an over the shoulder over Michael’s shoulder with the two men at the table in front of him, the eighth being a close-up of Michael’s face, and the ninth starting with another over the shoulder facing the men at the table. Still during the ninth shot, Michael walks toward the table to rejoin his enemies and the camera pans ever so slightly left to subtly emphasize the focus on Michael and his actions. We then cut to the tenth shot, which starts with a close-up of Michael taking his seat. Once he is seated, Sollozzo begins speaking to him, however the viewer does not pay attention to this because Michael is clearly preoccupied. His body language reflects his nervousness and discomfort, which is further emphasized when the camera begins to zoom in on his face and we can see that he is gulping and shaking slightly. He is deep in thought, wondering when the opportune moment to carry out the plan is! Now the sound of the train starts back up. The level of sound increases slowly at first, but as we zoom in closer and the anxiety builds, the train starts roaring and it spirals out of control until it is the loudest and feels the closest that it has been. The mood is chaotic and stressful until finally, Michael’s expression goes from nervous to a look of determination and certainty. Based on this last shot, we know that Michael decides to follow through with his plan and does in fact shoot Sollozzo and McClusky.

All of these factors of sound and cinematography collectively produce the dramatic lead up to the climax of the plot. That is, Michael following through with the plan. The shots that follow play out the actual killing of Sollozzo and McClusky, which the viewer anticipated based on the constant build-up of anxiety with each shot.

While the camera techniques contributed to this rising level of stress for our protagonist, they undoubtedly play a secondary role to the use of sound in this sequence. Graeme Turner discusses sound as a signifying practice on page 83 of his work, Film as Social Practice IV by stating, “music swelling at the point of a romantic clinch is not manipulation but recourse to even more direct means of communicating with the audience.” Although Coppola doesn’t use music in this shot sequence, this statement is not only true of music. Any source of sound can serve as a means of emphasizing the mood and the emotions involved in a scene. This quote speaks directly to the use of sound in this ten-shot-sequence. The repetition of the sound of the train relates to this idea of speaking directly to the emotions of the audience beyond what is possible using dialogue and diegetic sound alone. By using a sound with an unseen, or external source, the audience is caught off guard. The repetition of this sound allows the audience to associate the emotion of anxiety or stress with the sound of the train approaching. Just as Turner discusses music “swelling” at the climax of a romance, the use of the sound of the train here is directly related to the intensity of the plot at that moment.

The way in which Coppola utilized both sound and camera techniques in this ten-shot –sequence from The Godfather successfully magnifies the anxiety of the situation. Further, by pulling the audience in and involving their emotions, the significance of the scene is accurately portrayed. The repeated sound of the train correlated with the anxiety of the plot, along with sound bridging and the level of volume allowed the viewer to become more emotionally invested in each shot, which is necessary for a scene as significant as this one.

The Godfather. Dir. Francis Ford Coppola. Paramount Pictures, 1972.

Turner, Graeme. Film as Social Practice. Fourth Edition. London: Routledge, 1988. 83.

Schrader's Film Noir and Polanski's Chinatown

In his piece, “Notes on Film Noir”, Paul Schrader comments on genre by discussing the Influences, Stylistics, Themes, and Phases of Film Noir. For the most part, films are labeled as Noir Films based on certain reoccurring visual elements and themes. Schrader discusses these visual elements and themes in detail. According to Schrader, seven stylistic techniques exist for Noir films. These seven stylistic icons of Film Noir that define the genre are as follows:

1. Dark or dim lighting. This lighting helps to create the mood of Noir films and contributes to the air of mystery and suspense.
2. Oblique lines, most often in the form of light entering the scene from a window. Offices and rooms are often filled with light in the form of jagged lines or obscure geometric shapes such as trapezoids or obtuse triangles. This breaks up the scene visually and further contributes to the uneasiness of the mood or the unsettling mystery
3. Lack of distinction between character lighting and scenic lighting. Whereas most films draw the viewers attention to the characters by concentrating the lighting on their faces and bodies more so than the scenery, Noir films tend to light the characters with the same intensity as the scenery. The characters are often seen in the shadows of the buildings rather than casting their own shadows upon the buildings. According to Schrader, this “creates a fatalistic, hopeless mood”.
4. “Compositional tension is preferred to physical action”. In other words, there is less movement of the characters around the camera and more movement of the camera around the characters.
5. An unconscious focus on and attachment to water. Visually, the dark streets of a city in Noir films often glisten as a result of rain on the pavement. Additionally, rain tends to go hand in hand with Noir scenes with the highest level of tension or drama.
6. “There is a love of romantic narration”. The way Noir films are narrated often contributes greatly to the mood. Schrader mentions “temps perdu”, which is a mood of “irretrievable past, a predetermined fate, and an all-enveloping hopelessness”.
7. Complex chronological order. This contributes to feelings of “hopelessness and lost time’. By presenting scenes out of chronological order, the film disorients the viewer and instills these sentiments of uneasiness while viewing.

Based on these seven techniques, which define Film Noir, it is difficult for me to label Roman Polanski’s 1974 film, Chinatown, as a Film Noir. The film fails to utilize the majority of the visual and thematic elements, which make up the Noir genre.

1. Chinatown consists of an equal number (if not more) of scenes that occur during the day and at night. This lack of a dark and dreary atmosphere takes away from the mystery of the film. In my opinion, the dark or dim lighting of noir films is the most recognizable visual element, placing it in the category of Film Noir.
2. Only one example of this comes to mind when I think back to my viewing of Chinatown. There is one scene in which Gittes is on the phone in his office and light enters the room in the form of oblique lines, cutting up the scene visually. This one instance does not have me sold on Chinatown as Noir. The majority of the scenes are clearly-lit in a way that is comparable to films that fall under a number of other genres.
3. While I would agree that the lighting in Chinatown is not particularly vibrant or extreme, I would never venture to say that the characters are lit in the same way that the scenery is lit. Even in the Night scenes, characters’ are lit in a way that clearly allows the viewer to experience their facial expressions. For the most part, the characters are kept WAY out of the shadows.
4. To be honest, I was not looking out for this technique when I was watching the film, so I cannot make a definitive claim about it. However, the movement of the camera around the characters as opposed to the movement of the characters around the camera is not something that stood out to me by any means.
5. This technique was absolutely not used. While water clearly present throughout the entire film, it was not so in the way that Schrader discusses. The film is set in Los Angeles during a drought. I cant think of a scene in which it is raining and there is most definitely not a sense of water glistening off of the pavement.
6. The original script for Chinatown was narrated by Gittes as a voiceover, however Polanski decided not to include that form of narration in the final product. Because of this, the viewer is able to discover the clues throughout the film as Gittes discovers them. I did not get a sense of “temps perdu” when I watched Chinatown.
7. Aside from verbal references to the past, I cannot recall a scene that took place out of chronological order.

While I can see why Chinatown could be considered a Film Noir based on certain criteria, it does not follow the seven stylistic techniques of the genre as outlined by Paul Schrader.

REAR WINDOW: Voyeurism and the Object of the Male Gaze

Alfred Hitchcock’s 1954 film, Rear Window, gives us an inside look at the life of injured photojournalist, LB Jeffries, who as a result of his injury is bound to a wheelchair. Because our protagonist is unable to leave his apartment, he passes the time by observing, or spying on, his neighbors out of the rear window of his apartment. The entire plot is centered around Jeffries’ discoveries as a “Peeping Tom” and therefore, the film has a strong underlying theme of voyeurism.

In her piece, “From the Woman Who Knew Too Much: Hitchcock and Feminist Theory”, Tania Modleski analyzes the relationship between Jeffries and his girlfriend. She discusses the exhibitionist behavior of Lisa and the voyeuristic actions of Jeffries. Modleski makes the point that although Lisa is an exhibitionist, she is also portrayed in a confident and superior manner to Jeffries. She notes most significantly Lisa’s physical presence in each shot as compared to that of Jeffrey’s. On page 727, she makes the observation that, “in Rear Window, however, the woman is continually shown to be physically superior to the hero, not only in her physical movements but also in her dominance within the frame…” While these are notable characteristics of our two protagonists, I do not think that this is the voyeuristic relationship that must be analyzed.

I would like to discuss voyeurism in terms of the object of the male gaze as it relates to Rear Window. When considering the male gaze in relation to Hitchcock’s film, I found the most interesting voyeuristic relationship to be that of our protagonist, Jeffries, as a “Peeping Tom” looking into the windows of his neighbors while they are unaware. At first, we see him observing all of the neighbors and taking equal interest in each of their actions. Two neighbors are females who live alone, one being particularly attractive and desirable, the stereotypical object of the male gaze, and there are couples in the other apartments. At no point is he focused specifically on the attractive female neighbor, as would be expected. As the plot progresses and as Jeffries continues to “peep”, he becomes fixated on the actions of Mr. Thorwald. In film, the vast majority of the time, the object of the male gaze is a woman who is desirable to the man and therefore becomes desirable to us as the audience. Modleski briefly discusses Laura Mulveys views on voyeurism in relation to Hitchcock films and she states that they are “tailored to the fears and fantasies of the male spectator, who…needs to see her fetishized and controlled in the course of the narrative…The film spectator apparently has no choice but to identify with the male protagonist, who exerts an active controlling gaze over a passive female object.” As Modleski stated, Lisa is most certainly not a “passive female object” and in my opinion, she is also not the primary object of Jeffries’ gaze. So, in the case of Rear Window, the object of the male gaze is not a woman, rather, from Jeffries’ perspective as a voyeur, or “Peeping Tom”, it is Thorwald. This interest in Thorwald comes about due to Jeffries’ suspicion that Thorwald has murdered his wife. Although Jeffries is not “peeping” on Thorwald in a sexual context, he still chooses to focus on and become obsessed with the actions of this male individual over the actions of his other neighbors, which is worth noting. His interest in Lisa as a visual subject becomes clearly secondary to his desire to view Thorwald in an effort to find evidence of murder.

Not About a Love Story

(500) Days of Summer is not a love story. It is a story about love. It is a story about the joy of love and the pain of love, the magic of love and the torture of love, the comfort of love and the anxiety of love. Marc Webb’s film takes a new approach to the modern romantic comedy. He takes us on the roller coaster ride that is Tom Hansen (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) and Summer Finn’s (Zooey Deschanel) relationship. While we see the relationship develop from beginning to end, we are unable to do so in any sort of order. The viewer is bounced around from high to low and forced to keep track of which of the (500) days were filled with happiness and joy and which were filled with heartache and torment. The non-chronological order of events puts further emphasis on love’s unpredictability and lack of consistency.

From the beginning, we see that Tom and Summer have conflicting sentiments about love. Tom grew up knowing that he would never be truly happy until he found “the one”, while Summer is convinced that the idea of love is born out of the false hope and that neither destiny nor love actually exist. Tom loves Summer from the first moment that she walks into his life. The feelings are not mutual. We see Summer gain and lose interest throughout the (500) days and until the very end of the film, she proves to the audience that she truly does not believe in love.

In the end, (500) Days of Summer is not a film about finding your soul mate, it is a film about finding yourself. Both Summer and Tom learn from each other about matters of love and life. While their relationship did not work out in the end, it is clear that their lives both change for the better as a result of the tumultuous (500) days. Tom must come to terms with his loss of Summer and in doing so, he starts a new chapter in his life. Rather than waiting for destiny to take its toll once again, he decides to jump start his new life. He finally decides to pursue his passion for architecture and lead a life that will make him happy, rather than just going through the motions and getting by as he was. Summer is married in the end. To whom is insignificant because we know that Tom taught her the ways of love and opened her eyes to a new world that she had refused to see before she met him.

So how is this a true romance if our lovers do not reunite in the end? In a way, one can consider (500) Days of Summer a romance with life. Our protagonists were not meant for each other, however we see that both of their lives change dramatically and for the better as a result of their interactions. I cannot be mad at the ending because, although unconventional, it is in fact a happy one.

Not unlike Ken Kwapis’ film, He’s Just Not That Into You, which was released about half a year earlier, (500) Days of Summer serves as a realistic and honest approach to the classic love story. Is this a new subgenre of the romantic comedy in the works? Both stories tell us how it is regarding matters of life and love, while avoiding the usual practice of tiptoeing around our feelings.

Eric Steelberg’s camera work provides with beautiful images of both the characters and our characters’ surroundings. The close-ups allow us to take a step into the personal space of our protagonists, which helps us fall even deeper in love with them as an audience. The pans and long shots would make any East Coaster want to book a flight out West in an instant. The dream sequences and split screens showing Tom’s ideal situations and reality were extremely interesting and added to the complexity of our characters’ feelings.

Finally, the soundtrack goes hand-in-hand with the hipster/indie-style cinematography. Being serenaded by the likes of Regina Spektor and The Feist is not something that I can complain about and it will most definitely keep (500) Days of Summer on my mind for as long as the Soundtrack remains in my iTunes.

Benjamin and Narrative as the Essence of Film

In his piece, “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”, Walter Benjamin discusses the transformative effects of film technology on the sense perception of the audience. I found sections XI, XII, and XIII to be particularly helpful to keep in mind during our viewing of Fight Club and Amelie.

Amelie utilizes many various film techniques, such as the close-up, slow motion, and the long shot (among others) to emphasize and give the audience more insight into the life and pleasures of the protagonist, Amelie. We are told that Amelie takes pleasure in the simple things in life. For example, we are told that she loves dipping her hand in sacks of rice and the camera allows us to experience this with her and allows us to enjoy this simple act as much as the character does. In section XIII on page 680, Benjamin states, “By close-ups of the things around us, by focusing on hidden details of familiar objects, by exploring common place milieus under the ingenious guidance of the camera, the film, on the one hand, extends our comprehension of the necessities which rule our lives.” An excellent example of the camera taking us beyond where the audience’s eye can reach is the scene where Amelie finds the box hidden in the wall of her kitchen. In this scene, the camera penetrates the wall and shows us deep into the hole in the wall where the box was hidden. The close-up is used most often to express the emotions of Amelie and to allow the audience to experience her emotions with her.

Fight Club utilizes these same film techniques and takes the audience beyond what the eye can or chooses to see. Benjamin describes this on page 680, “An unconsciously penetrated space is substituted for a space consciously explored by man…the camera introduces us to unconscious optics…” Slow motion is utilized to emphasize the blow of punchers during the fights. This effect makes the fight scenes much more dramatic, and therefore much more emotional for the audience. Benjamin addresses the effects of these techniques and states, “With the close-up, space expands; with slow motion, movement is extended”. This is true of the effects of these techniques in both Amelie and Fight Club.

These techniques reveal to the audience the most basic details, which make up routine actions and often go unnoticed. The combination of the verbal narrative and this visual insight that the camera gives make up the magic of film. Without narrative, the scenes revealed by the camera would have less weight because often times, the narrative adds significance or relevance to what the camera is showing us. For this reason, I do not believe that promoting narrative as the essence of film is a criminal error. I do not, however, whole-heartedly agree with Dulac’s claim because I believe that it is the combination of narration and visual images, which make up the essence and film and cannot be demonstrated by an alternative media. Yes, silent films were able to tell a story by utilizing music to stimulate the emotions. However, Hollywood films that we know and love require dialogue and some form of verbal narration to be paired with the images that we see in order to have an emotional impact on the audience.

Did Nora Ephron read Bordwell in Intro to Film??

While watching Nora Ephron’s Sleepless in Seattle, I found it hard to get David Bordwell’s piece, “Classical Hollywood Cinema: Narrational Principles and Procedures”, out of my head. From the beginning to end, I cannot think of a major instance in which the film strayed from Bordwell’s outline of the Classical Hollywood film.

Bordwell outlines the classical plot by saying that it consists of “an undisturbed stage, the disturbance, the struggle, and the elimination of the disturbance”. The plot of Sleepless in Seattle closely follows this outline and is therefore a classical plot. The undisturbed stage consists of the scenes leading up to the first time that Sam is on the radio. Until this point, our characters lives have not crossed paths and they are in no way interconnected. The moment that Annie hears Sam on the radio, a disturbance exists- she finds herself crying and having feelings for this man who lives across the country and who she knows very little about. She makes an instant connection with Sam when she finds herself mouthing “magic” at the exact moment that she hears Sam say it on the radio- Sam is describing the magic he experienced the first time he took his wife’s hand and Annie instantly thinks of her mother’s story about the “magic” that she felt the first time her husband (Annie’s father) took her hand. Each subsequent time she hears Sam on the radio, a struggle builds because she finds herself having stronger and stronger feelings for this stranger. She feeds these feelings by looking into Sam’s life, hiring an investigator and ultimately flying to Seattle to see him in person. Although there are no words exchanged between the two in Seattle, the connection is made when Sam first sees Annie at the airport and then when their eyes meet across the street in front of his home. Upon Annie’s return to the East Coast, the film tries to trick us into believing that the lovers will never cross paths. However, Annie sees a “sign” in the form of heart-shaped lights on the Empire State Building, where she had requested Sam meet her, and knows that she must at least go to the top of the building to see if he is there. Finally, our disturbance is eliminated when Sam and Annie unite on the top of the Empire State Building on Valentine’s Day.

According to Bordwell’s “Classical Hollywood Cinema: Narrational Principles and Procedures”, a classical story must end with a clear resolution of the underlying problem and the accomplishment of the major goals of the film. As was obvious, the problem that existed throughout the film was the distance that separated Annie and Sam, what with her living in Baltimore and him residing in Seattle. I saw the goals of the film to be the following: for Sam to find a women who he could love as much as his wife and for Annie to find a true love and experience the “magic” that she had learned about from her mother and Cary Grant movies. In the end, Annie and Sam finally meet atop the Empire State Building and experience the “magic” of their love when he takes her hand for the first time. This first in-person rendezvous serves as a classical ending, as defined by Bordwell. When Sam arrives in New York in an effort to retrieve Jonah, the problem of distance is eliminated and we start to see our happy ending pan out. Finally, when Sam and Jonah walk off the elevator and Sam takes Annie’s hand, both goals of the film are achieved- we see that Sam is in love and we can tell that Annie is finally experiencing the “magic” that she had always heard about.

Sleepless in Seattle was the perfect film to watch after reading Bordwell’s piece on Classical Hollywood. I really enjoyed being able to relate the reading to the film with ease. While I really liked the film (huge fan of the chick flick) I think that Ephron played it a little TOO safe in sticking to the outline of the classical Hollywood film. The movie was for sure a “feel good” and the ending made me smile, but it was a little too predictable for my liking. That’s my only complaint! J