Ideology: An Essay

How valuable has ideological analysis been in developing your understanding of the themes of your chosen films?

An ideology is a set of beliefs held by an individual or group that defines their world view and societies have dominant ideologies, which influence the people living within that society and the products they create. As an audience living in Western society, we expect the films we watch to reflect back our own ideologies and conform to Western conventions; however, a director is able to guide the film according to their ideology, which the audience can either accept, negotiate with or reject. Both La La Land (Damien Chazelle, 2016) and Beasts of the Southern Wild (Benh Zeitlin, 2012) are heavily influenced by their director’s ideology, La La Land as Chazelle’s passion project and Beasts of the Southern Wild as an independent film, although audiences have brought their own ideologies to the films by applying different readings.

Beasts of the Southern Wild is an independent film, which means Zeitlin was more focused on presenting his artistic vision than purely making profit. He “live[s] in New Orleans [so] was interested in telling a story about people who are staying in South Louisiana and why they’re holding on”, choosing to reflect the ideology of a low-income community, rather than the dominant ideology in America of family-importance and capitalism. Although independent films are usually limited to a festival audience, Beasts of the Southern Wild‘s success at numerous festivals enabled a cinema release on 318 screens in America. This opened the film up to a more mainstream audience, whose ideology was more likely to be challenged by watching it.

Zeitlin wanted to make the film accessible to audiences even with different ideologies; for example, the film portrays the devastation caused by climate change and was arguably inspired by the impact of Hurricane Katrina on people of colour and those in poverty; however, Zeitlin claims there is no intentional political message and “even people who don’t believe in global warming [can] sit down and watch it”. This suggests his ideological presence in the film is only implicit as he tries to refrain from pushing a strong message.

The film seems to conform to aspects of Marxist film theory, as it presents the Bathtub community and praises the nature around them through close-up shots of nature in documentary-style, particularly in the opening of the film. These realistic shots fit with the ideology of Italian neo-realism, in addition to Zeitlin’s use of non-professional actors, real locations and conversational speech. By focusing on the Bathtub community and framing their eviction as aggressive, Zeitlin sides with the community’s ideology and positions contemporary capitalist society as a threat to this, thus challenging dominant ideology. Furthermore, Hushpuppy is then dressed in more stereotypically feminine clothes in the hospital scene, making her conform to society’s ideology of what a girl is.

Hushpuppy continually challenges societal expectations of both girls and children, which could fit with a feminist reading of the film, as she is shown to be independent and strong rather than passive and weak. The wide-shot with her and the aurochs towards the end emphasises her power, as she is physically small in comparison, but the aurochs “lowers her head with respect” and stops before Hushpuppy. On the other hand, Wink reinforces dominant sexist ideology by suggesting strength is a masculine quality and only praising Hushpuppy for being “the man” when she engages in a display of strength with the arm wrestle, then calling her “a stupid little girl” when she shows perceived weakness.

Although the strong presence of a community in the film fits with Marxist ideology, some aspects of the film do not, mainly the fact that the film is focused more on Hushpuppy as an individual with the Bathtub community as the background. Additionally, Zeitlin pushes this focus on Hushpuppy through editing, instead of allowing the audience to choose their focus as is encouraged in Marxist film theory. Hushpuppy appears in nearly every shot and even Wink’s death scene has a lot of close-ups on her because her response is more important for the viewer than Wink’s actual death. Hushpuppy dominates the film aurally with her narration, which again reinforces the subjective nature of the film and Hushpuppy’s perspective.

La La Land, in contrast, is a mainstream Hollywood film funded by a studio, although Chazelle uses its niche genre to provide flexibility for the ideologies he portrays on-screen. Chazelle had the idea for La La Land before his debut film, Whiplash, which he used to gain more recognition and funding for La La Land. He was given large amounts of freedom when making the film, although arguably it does still largely conform to society’s dominant ideologies.

The film challenges the audience’s expectations of Hollywood protagonists with its fairly realistic and ordinary leads Mia and Seb. The ending particularly challenges convention of musical happy endings by separating the characters, although they are materially successful. This success fits with the dominant ideology of the American Dream that anyone can succeed with enough hard work; therefore, although La La Land challenges some expectations, it mostly fits with American society’s ideologies.

This is also true of the relationship portrayed on-screen between Seb and Mia: a typical heterosexual relationship where the woman is more passive, shown by Seb being the one to find Mia and ask her out at the cafe. Throughout the film, Mia supports and admires Seb, repeatedly watching him perform from when she first meets him in the restaurant to Keith’s concert, whereas he fails to turn up to the opening night of her show. Additionally, Seb plays the role of educator, preserving and preaching about ‘pure’ jazz, whilst maintaining his artistic integrity by struggling to play Christmas carols for money instead of playing what he wants.

However, a feminist interpretation suggests it is actually Mia and her journey as an artist that is the focus of the film, because the audience is first positioned in Mia’s perspective to learn about her ambitions and struggles. Although she plays the role of an audience member for Seb, she is never passive in her appreciation and the close-up shots maintained on her face during his performances show the importance of her above him. Anna Leszkiewitz argues that “We rarely see [Seb] perform if not through [Mia’s] gaze, and we see her emotionally develop through her evolving reactions to his music.”, showing her artistic growth rather than focusing on Seb’s. Moreover, it is ultimately Mia who is able to innovate as an artist, whilst Seb stays safely stuck in the past to recycle what others have already done.

Throughout the film, there is mostly a balance between the two characters and they are treated as equals, which contrasts typical Hollywood films where the woman is purely a love interest and has no personality of her own. This is best indicated with Seb and Mia’s first meeting: the start of the film follows Mia until she walks into the restaurant and we expect the male gaze to be subverted when she watches Seb play, but Chazelle cuts before we see the piano player and instead introduces Seb individually, which eventually leads to their gazes lock as equals with no male or female gaze present. In addition, this initial meeting subverts audience expectations of a romance film ‘meet-cute’ because Seb barges past Mia, setting up the challenge to Hollywood film relationships that Chazelle continues throughout.

The two films are very different in the ideologies they portray on-screen: a Marxist interpretation can be applied to Beasts of the Southern Wild, whereas La La Land fits very nicely with the dominant ideology of the American Dream in the capitalist society. Both challenge stereotypical portrayals of women – Hushpuppy is independent and Mia can be seen as the true artist over Seb, because she innovates whilst he continues to recycle and live in the past. As an independent film, Beasts of the Southern Wild has more room to challenge ideologies, which it does through representation of a different community to what is usually shown in mainstream cinema. Though La La Land does offer some variation in the ideology it portrays, it still overwhelmingly fits with the dominant representation of a heterosexual, white couple portrayed on-screen, perhaps due to the nostalgia of the film that pays homage to the Golden Age of Hollywood where this was the expectation. Both films use implicit ideology that is presented through the worlds they create or reflect, rather than making explicit statements on the dominant ideologies they challenge.

Unconventional Auteur: Casablanca

In the Golden Age of Hollywood, studios had such a strong influence and each had its own signature style that certain films are recognisable as the film of a particular studio. This is true of Casablanca, a film by Warner Bros and which is largely characteristic of the studio’s realism in films. Therefore, Warner Bros’ input on the film could be considered ‘auteur-like’, even though the term is more typically associated with directors.

Warner Bros’ focus on realism is reflected in Casablanca‘s wartime setting, despite the storyline of romance. Jack Warner, joint-head of the studio, pushed for realistic and political films and the power of his influence is evident when looking at the output of the studio at the time. He had a firm political agenda with Casablanca, as he was an advocate for America joining WWII, so produced a film that was sympathetic towards the Resistance, embodied by Victor Laszlo in this film. Laszlo is a fairly uncomplicated character and is presented as a dedicated hero, who is even willing to sacrifice his escape for his wife.

Rick, however, is more complex and reflects Warner Bros’ realism in both action and appearance. The studio was known for having less overtly attractive actors, with a feeling of ‘guy-next door’ about actors such as James Cagney and Edward Robinson. Similarly, Bogart was relatively old and plain-looking with a heavy New York accent that stood out from the common Mid-Atlantic accent of the time. He became known for his roles in Warner Bros gangster films, proving the control that studios had over their stars, as they could market them in particular ways and create typecasts that they could use to their advantage in their next films. For example, Rick’s outfit in the airplane scene pays homage to his gangster roles because he wears a suit, hat and coat with a turned up collar and Warner Bros uses this outfit to show-off Bogart’s film star persona.

Most studios at the time had a stable of stars from which they drew their leading cast members for each film. Whilst Warner Bros did not have a set stable, they still contracted stars for a certain number of films and maximised them in every one. Therefore, in Casablanca, as in other films, the stars are clearly displayed and glamourised throughout, because Warner Bros was utilising their unique ‘assets’. This can be seen in the catch lights on Ingrid Bergman’s character Ilsa throughout the film and the camera favouring her in the scene between Ilsa and Sam at the piano. The focus remains on Bogart in one of his scenes with the Nazi major and Captain Renault, even as he is leaving the table and the other two remain seated, the camera follows him, showing the importance of stars to the studios and their brand, making them distinct from one another.

Although directors were not as artistically important during the Golden Age of Hollywood, certain directors were still associated with different studios and contributed to their house style. In the case of Warner Bros, Mervyn Le Roy and Michael Curtiz were regular directors that they used who carried out their vision, evident in Casablanca directed by Curtiz. Another name associated with Warner Bros was composer Max Steiner, who uses his non-diegetic composed score in Casablanca to manipulate the audience according to who Warner Bros wants them to sympathise with. Whenever the Nazi characters are shown, the score takes a sinister turn, particularly noticeable during the arrival of the Nazi major at the airport towards the end. As Steiner composed over 100 scores for Warner Bros, his music significantly contributed to their style, even composing their signature fanfare that is heard at the start of Casablanca.

A key part of Warner Bros’ house style was short, rapid dialogue and Casablanca also conforms to this aspect of the style. In the scene where Ilsa has gone to Rick to beg for the letters of transit, their exchanges are snappy, creating a sense of heightened emotion. Warner Bros were also known for their urban settings, and Casablanca makes the foreign city its setting, providing exoticism for the audience and an urban setting which matches their house style.

Casablanca is typical of a Warner Bros film in many ways: it features regular contributors in the actors Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman, composer Max Steiner and director Michael Curtiz, all of whom became associated with the studio as did their artistic choices, merging them into the house style. Jack Warner himself had a particularly strong influence over the studio as its head and this can be reflected in its films of the time, including the political and realistic Casablanca. Therefore, whilst the term is not typically applied to businesses, the studio Warner Bros could be considered an auteur, due to its distinctive and recognisable style and Casablanca could be considered a product of this auteur.

Golden Age of Hollywood: Casablanca

During the Golden Age of Hollywood, eight major studios dominated and had a monopoly over the America film industry. One of these studios was Warner Bros, known for its gangster films and realism. Each studio had a stable of stars from which it picked when producing a new film and Warner Bros’ included Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. The two stars were paired together for the 1942 Casablanca (Michael Curtiz), a big draw for audiences at the time. The film’s setting in World War Two also suggests Jack Warner’s political motives of wanting the USA to become involved and gives a realistic backdrop to the romance between Rick (Humphrey Bogart) and Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman), reflective of Warner Bros’ house style.

Stars were a significant part of the studio system and this is evident in the very opening of Casablanca, when Bogart and Bergman’s names are emblazoned across the screen, equal in size; Warner Bros are advertising their assets to the audience. Throughout the film, the two are lit carefully to show off their attractiveness, in particular, catch lights are noticeable in Bergman’s eyes during her introductory sequence in the diner with her husband, Victor Laszlo (Paul Henreid). The camera frequently favours the two stars above other characters, even when they are not involved in the ongoing conversation: after Rick has finished talking to the Nazi major and Captain Renault, the camera tilts up as he stands and pushes in on him walking away, rather than remaining focused on the two men still sat down.

In the 1930s and 40s, cinematography was used more for practical purposes than creative or imaginative decisions. Casablanca features many conversations in which an additional person joins in, so the camera accommodates by pulling out from two-shots to three-shots and adjusting the framing. The composition is also important in establishing relative powers to the audience; for example, Victor is sat down when the Nazi major approaches him, but he stands up and is taller in height, showing he is not intimidated. At times, the cinematography also takes opportunities to show off the expensive sets, a staple of Classic Hollywood films: when Rick’s cafe is introduced, there are gliding shots moving around the set to show its lavishness.

Music is also carefully used in the film to manipulate the audience. The non-diegetic composed score at the beginning is the French national anthem, loud and patriotic, but this takes a darker tone to accompany the narration which details the “torturous” journey to Casablanca; the emotive language places the audience on the side of the refugees. Similarly, whenever the Nazi characters are shown, Steiner’s score becomes sinister to position the audience against them.

The opening of the film is very efficient with its exposition, providing the background information the audience needs within a few minutes. This was typical of Hollywood films at the time, the aim was to get the essential information out of the way and progress with the linear narrative. Casablanca uses a globe to give the audience context as to where the film is set and this foreign setting was part of studio competition to provide greater spectacle and exoticism to their films. However, the time in which it was made combined with the foreign location means the film uses racial stereotypes as a shortcut for storytelling, notably the scene with the ‘wealthy but confused Englishman’ and the ‘thieving, dishonest foreigner’.

The Mid-Atlantic accent is recognisable as from the Golden Age of Hollywood as its attempt to strike a balance between British Received Pronunciation and Standard American English, thus sounding exotic to both sides of the Atlantic. This is present in Casablanca, making it distinct as a film from its era. The accent was strongly supported by studios, again emphasising their influence on every film, down to the small details, although Bogart’s prevailing New York accent could suggest Warner Bros’ desire for realism.

Overall, Casablanca is very reflective of the Golden Age of Hollywood, particularly as a film representative of the studio system, as Warner Bros’ impact is evident from the genre to the chosen stars. The film is equally as traditional in terms of cinematography, editing and mise-en-scène, using them all to aid the narrative and display the stars, whilst the composed score aims to manipulate the audience’s emotions. Casablanca could even be considered the epitome of a Golden Age of Hollywood film, it being one of the first films people think of when referring to the era.

Component 2d: Essay – Auteur

“Experimental film is often the result of an auteur challenging established conventions with fresh ideas.” With reference to your chosen film option, how far do you agree with this statement?

In 1994, new filmmaker Quentin Tarantino’s second film, Pulp Fiction, was screened at Cannes Film Festival and caused a sensation, going on to win the film festival’s top prize. After the success of his debut feature-length and relatively low-budget film Reservoir Dogs, Tarantino expanded on some of its key features to make his follow-up film bigger and more intense. These features include excessive violence, strong language, pop culture references, non-composed scores and an ensemble cast, which can now be seen in more of Tarantino’s successive works, proof of his auteur status. Whilst Reservoir Dogs displayed many of these signature features, they could not be considered as such until Tarantino had a greater portfolio of work, making his second film, Pulp Fiction very important in establishing his style. Tarantino is now widely regarded as an auteur, a term derived from the French New Wave and the theories of Andre Bazin and Alexandre Astruc, which states that the director of a film is like an author and their vision influences the film to the degree that it is noticeable. Often, this vision is carried across multiple films, turning the auteur’s films into a distinctive collection with similarities in various elements. This is evident across Tarantino’s body of work, even with changes in genre, from his crime films Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, to his martial arts films, the Kill Bills, to his Western film The Hateful Eight.

No matter the genre, Tarantino’s dialogue is highly effective and important in building character, even if not always entirely relevant. A key example of this is Vincent and Jules’ conversation in the car about Vincent’s time in Amsterdam and the name of a ‘Quarter Pounder with Cheese’ in Europe. This is completely unnecessary to the plot, but it establishes the relaxed relationship between Vincent and Jules and makes them seem more normal to the audience, despite their morally questionable vocation. Crime films are often fast-paced, with little room to explore the characters’ regular lives, but Tarantino manages to sustain the audience’s interest and the momentum of the film whilst taking slight, fun detours. By developing his characters in this way, Tarantino widens his options for them, making him able to surprise the viewers but maintain plausibility; for example, Jules decides to give up his life as a gangster after what he terms a ‘miracle’, though this religious awakening is not unbelievable, as Jules has proved religious interest through his ‘quoting’ of ‘Ezekiel 25:17′. With his dialogue, Tarantino challenges the convention that crime films have to be jam-packed with action, every second driving the plot forward and instead allows the audience to enjoy the world he has created, revelling in the fun and light-hearted moments as well as the more gripping and dramatic ones, which is a key part of what makes Pulp Fiction unique.

Certain shots are associated with Tarantino, despite his taking of them from other films. First featured in the film In Cold Blood, the trunk shot has become a staple of Tarantino films, even seen in his debut Reservoir Dogs. Pulp Fiction‘s trunk shot looks up and Vincent and Jules who are retrieving their weapons before confronting the boys in the apartment and does not have the surprise element of what is inside, as in Reservoir Dogs, but is still an effective and interesting shot. Another use of stolen cinematography is in The Gold Watch, when Butch is driving back to Fabienne and Marsellus spots him whilst crossing the road. This shot echoes Psycho, using its familiarity to heighten its own sense of danger and suspense. Tarantino frequently ‘borrows’ from other films, using his vast knowledge of films to influence his own, which is a large part of his auteur style. The very existence of Jack Rabbit Slim’s Diner is a tsunami of references – to film stars such as Marilyn Monroe, to comedy duos with the milkshake names, and even the dance that Mia and Vincent do is a reference to the film Bande à part. Similarly, every weapon that Butch considers in the pawn shop is a reference to another film, the chainsaw being The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and the katana being Seven Samurai. References are a huge part of Tarantino’s films and his auteur style, though they are sometimes so obscure that the audience does not appreciate the reference. Where many filmmakers seek to forge their own path, aiming to do something new, Tarantino harnesses the old and re-purposes it for his benefit, unafraid to steal rather than simply pay homage, and this is what makes him different as a filmmaker. Pulp Fiction is the film where Tarantino pushes this to the extreme, incorporating reference upon reference, less evident in his first film Reservoir Dogs, which is perhaps part of what makes Pulp Fiction more of an experimental film.

Tarantino is also unoriginal in his choice of songs, but completely unique in the way he structures them into a soundtrack. He chooses popular retro songs, such as ‘You Can Never Tell’, ‘Son of a Preacher Man’ and ‘Girl, You’ll Be A Woman Soon’, all in the chapter Vincent Vega and Marsellus Wallace’s Wife, which are fun and upbeat, fitting for the lighthearted atmosphere created by Mia and Vincent. Seemingly less suitable is the choice of ‘Comanche’ for the scene in which Marsellus is raped. Tarantino deliberately chooses a fairly upbeat song to contrast with the horrors of the scene in the same way that ‘Stuck in the Middle With You’ plays as Mr Blonde tortures the cop in Reservoir Dogs. He defies expectations to make shocking scenes even more memorable with his choice of music. Just as the numerous film references stem from Tarantino’s knowledge and love of film, his music choices are based on what he enjoys and remembers, giving his films a unique intimacy as they represent Tarantino himself.

Rather unique to Tarantino is his fixation on feet in his films. Not present in Reservoir Dogs due to the lack of female candidates, Tarantino’s infamous foot shots begin appearing in his films with Mia in Pulp Fiction. Arguably the most noticeable of his signature features, Tarantino focuses on women’s feet in Kill Bill, with many shots during the fight between Beatrix and Elle, in Jackie Brown with Melanie’s feet, and in Inglourious Basterds with Hans removing Bridget’s shoe, among many others. Although this could be considered Tarantino sexualising women’s feet, he has still championed strong female characters in many of his films. He begins to give female roles importance with Mia in Pulp Fiction, though it could be argued that this only becomes a feature of his later work in films such as Kill Bill and Jackie Brown where there are female leads. He often incorporates an ensemble cast, although Pulp Fiction is slightly different in that it allows these multiple characters to be explored in their own chapter, pushing them to the forefront in turn, rather than focusing on one character’s perspective and encountering the others as in Kill Bill. Within these ensemble casts, Tarantino often resurrects faded stars, notably John Travolta in Pulp Fiction, or re-uses the same actors; for example, Samuel L. Jackson has featured in multiple Tarantino films, including Pulp Fiction. Yet Tarantino still keeps his characters fresh and different, even when the same actor is playing them – the roles of Mia and Beatrix are wildly different, but Uma Thurman pulls them both off under the direction of Tarantino.

Tarantino has a variety of signature features in his films that classify him as an auteur, though these perhaps felt most new and exciting in Pulp Fiction, before audiences had come to know his style. His films remain different, despite the common theme of violence, extensive use of bad language and racial slurs, and infamous feet shots, in large part due to their different genres and stories. Tarantino films can easily be identified as such, reinforcing his auteur status. Arguably, Pulp Fiction is considered an experimental film because it is the first film given the full Tarantino treatment, whereas he was a little more cautious with Reservoir Dogs. Tarantino’s auteur style challenged conventions at the time he burst onto the film scene as a director and still remains distinctive to him, but is less experimental in a world where people are familiar with it. Therefore, this is what makes Pulp Fiction a more experimental film than some of his later works.

Component 2d: Essay – Narrative

“Unfamiliar approaches to narrative can be both difficult and exciting for the spectator.” Discuss this comment in relation to your film study.

Essay:

In 1994, new filmmaker Quentin Tarantino’s second film, Pulp Fiction, was screened at Cannes Film Festival and caused a sensation, going on to win the film festival’s top prize. After the success of his debut feature-length and relatively low-budget film Reservoir Dogs, Tarantino expanded on some of its key features to make his follow-up film bigger and more intense. Also a violent crime film with cliched character types and generic storylines, Pulp Fiction goes further with the concept of non-linear narrative to rework these familiar aspects into a new and exciting, but somewhat challenging film for the viewer.

A significant influence for Tarantino were Hollywood B-movies, and his adaptation of the common character types can be seen clearly in Pulp Fiction. In Butch there lies a proud boxer who makes shady deals, but fails to follow through and becomes a target of the mob boss, whilst Vincent and Jules follow the archetype of hitmen. Less evident in Pulp Fiction are Propp’s 7 character types. Originally intended as an overview of characters in folk tales, Propp’s character types have since been applied elsewhere and usually fit to a degree; however, Tarantino’s criminal characters are harder to categorise. This largely stems from the different chapters and therefore perspectives present in Pulp Fiction, as where Butch could be considered the ‘hero’ character in the Gold Watch chapter, Vincent Vega is more likely to be classed as the ‘hero’ in Vincent Vega and Marsellus Wallace’s Wife. Similarly, Marsellus best fits the ‘dispatcher’ character description when in Vincent’s chapters, but is more of a ‘villain’ character to Butch in the Gold Watch. Most fitting, perhaps, are the female characters, as both Mia and Fabienne can be described as the ‘princess’ or damsel-in-distress figure in their respective chapters, although even they arguably move beyond the one-dimensional categorisation of ‘princess’: Mia is a developed character with faults, such as her drug use, and it is hard to imagine that she fits the typical ‘princess’ character from a folk tale, Propp’s primary source. Propp’s 7 character types are difficult to apply to Pulp Fiction simply because they are based on folk tales, not crime fiction films, and they are not a foundation on which writers should base their characters, but an observation of patterns in stories. Therefore, the characters in Pulp Fiction are better categorised by the B-movie archetypes from which they are drawn and Tarantino’s innovation can be more clearly seen in relation to these, rather than Propp’s 7 character types, with which he may not even be familiar.

Similarly, Tarantino is likely unaware of Propp’s 31 narrative functions, and certainly did not use them as a basis for his film. They cannot be applied in the way that Propp intended, since part of the theory is that the narrative functions occur in chronological order and Tarantino’s non-linear narrative goes against Propp’s original ordering; however, when looking at the individual stories in Pulp Fiction, it is much easier to apply this theory. Using the Gold Watch as a primary example, several of the 31 functions are evident from the 4 spheres (the Introduction, the Story, the Donor Sequence and the Hero’s Return): function 11 – Departure -is when Butch leaves the motel room on a mission to retrieve the gold watch, Acquisition (function 14) could be when Butch picks up the gold watch, Struggle (function 16) occurs when Marsellus spots Butch in the car and they fight and Return (function 20) when Butch drives back to Fabienne on Zed’s chopper. Whilst the Gold Watch chapter fits quite nicely into this structure, it cannot be applied to the film as a whole, not only because of the non-linear structure, but because of difficulty applying the character types, or having multiple of each character type, and the way in which the narrative strands overlap. In some chapters, Vincent could be considered the ‘hero’ character and according to Propp’s narrative functions, the hero ultimately triumphs; however, during the course of the Gold Watch, when Butch is our most suitable ‘hero’ character, Vincent is killed, which is problematic for his own narrative strand. Evidently, Propp’s narrative functions work in tandem with his character types in relation to folk tales, and the multiple perspectives and narrative strands present in Pulp Fiction make both these theories difficult to apply as a whole.

Another theory that works in Pulp Fiction only when the film is divided into the individual stories is Todorov’s equilibrium theory. Taking the Prologue and Epilogue as one section, Todorov’s five stages can easily be applied: there is equilibrium in the diner as everyone eats, this is disrupted when Honey Bunny and Pumpkin announce their robbery, and recognised by the diners with their frightened responses. Jules attempts a resolution of the disruption by negotiating with them and equilibrium is either restored as Jules and Vincent leave the diner unharmed, or a new equilibrium is established. By having this sequence separated and sandwiching the film, Tarantino is following the order of Todorov’s theory and opening the whole film with the first stage and ending with the final stage of the same story that started the film, which is important in leaving the audience satisfied with the conclusion; however, the separation creates an unresolved tension from the Prologue that maintains the audience’s interest and excitement until this is finally provided in the Epilogue. Part of what makes Pulp Fiction so engaging is that the audience is not gifted the five stages of equilibrium as a whole for each story in succession, but is forced to wait and fit the stages together in order to complete the stories. By combining a portmanteau film with a non-linear narrative, Tarantino entangles the various narrative strands and makes the audience detangle them, forcing an activity and engagement from the audience that makes the film both challenging and exciting.

Unaffected by Pulp Fiction‘s non-linear narrative is Levi-Strauss’ theory of binary opposition. As in many films, Pulp Fiction contains opposites that drive the narrative and create action to make a more compelling film; for example, Vincent is a man and Mia a woman, which results in a natural tension between the binary opposites that makes the chapter Vincent Vega and Marsellus Wallace’s Wife more engaging. Even the title of the chapter sets up a juxtaposition of the sexes and creates tension, as the audience is acutely aware that Mia is married to Vincent’s boss, and any possible sexual interaction between Mia and Vincent may result in a similar outcome for Vincent as the man who allegedly gave Mia a foot massage. Another binary opposition in Pulp Fiction is between criminals and innocent bystanders. During Marsellus and Butch’s fight in the Gold Watch, innocent bystanders are present and rush to aid each of them and Marsellus and Butch’s response to them creates more action as they start shooting at each other and occasionally hit the innocent women. Their presence creates a greater risk and impact to Marsellus and Butch’s actions.

Overall, by re-ordering the story events into a non-linear narrative Tarantino removes the predictability of otherwise cliched storylines. The lack of chronological flow disrupts the narrative theories of Propp and Todorov, but makes the film more engaging and exciting; for example, by splitting Vincent and Jules’ visit to the teenagers to retrieve Marsellus’ briefcase into two sections, the Prelude and the Bonnie Situation, the conclusion of that particular story is withheld until near the end of the film, creating an anticipation and activity in the audience, as they have to connect the two parts of the story together themselves. Another distinction in Pulp Fiction that stems from the multiple narrative strands is the change in audience positioning. Part of the excitement of films is being placed with sometimes morally wrong characters that we would not normally empathise with in the real world, but can experience in a safe and contained environment, where their actions do not have real-life implications. In addition to creating fun, but morally wrong characters with whom we can empathise, Tarantino changes the position of the audience depending on the chapter, even allowing us to view parts of the same sequence from different perspectives, most notably, the beginning of the Epilogue, which is from Jules’ perspective, not Honey Bunny and Pumpkin’s, as in the Prologue. These elements are vital in challenging the audience and preventing them from passively following one character’s story; as Tarantino himself said, “It’s actually fun to watch an audience in some ways chase after a movie”. Tarantino subverts narrative theories and character tropes throughout Pulp Fiction, such as having the otherwise competent hitmen Vincent and Jules accidentally kill Marvin and have to clean it up. These changes make the film unexpected, exciting and unique to Tarantino, despite it being rooted in the tropes of Hollywood B-movies and portmanteau crime fiction. Therefore, if Pulp Fiction is said to be a better film for failing to conform to narrative theories, it can be concluded that unfamiliar approaches to narrative are more exciting, yet difficult for the viewer.

Second version:

In 1994, new filmmaker Quentin Tarantino’s second film, Pulp Fiction, was screened at Cannes Film Festival and caused a sensation, going on to win the film festival’s top prize. After the success of his debut feature-length and relatively low-budget film Reservoir Dogs, Tarantino expanded on some of its key features to make his follow-up film bigger and more intense. At its core, Pulp Fiction is a film with cliched stories and archetypal characters, based on popular Hollywood B-movies and magazine crime fiction familiar to Tarantino; however, he reworks these familiar elements into a non-linear structure to withhold information until it becomes most dramatic. His manipulation of narrative is what makes Pulp Fiction an exciting and unique film and forces the audience to become active participants, which is a challenging notion for a form in which the audience are typically passive spectators.

Pulp Fiction is a film of three main chapters: Vincent Vega & Marsellus Wallace’s Wife, The Gold Watch and The Bonnie Situation, and each of these form their own narrative strand. In addition to these, the Prologue and Epilogue act as a continuation of The Bonnie Situation, whilst the Prelude is also part of this strand, but occurs before them in the chronological flow of story events. Rather than simply tell each of the chapters in full and in chronological order, or even use flashbacks, as he did primarily in Reservoir Dogs, Tarantino chooses to completely re-order the events of Pulp Fiction into a non-linear and circular narrative.

The stories themselves are littered in hundreds of films, albeit with some variations, and Tarantino doesn’t shy away from stealing them and the archetypal characters featured in them. The Gold Watch is merely the common story of a proud boxer who makes dodgy deals, but refuses to follow through and becomes the target of a mob boss, whilst Vincent and Jules are two regular hitmen who are sent to retrieve an object of importance by their boss. It wouldn’t be a Tarantino film, though, without a fresh twist and he maximises the audience’s knowledge of these generic characters to subvert expectations, such as when the seemingly seasoned hitman Vincent accidentally shoots Marvin in the head. The comedy in this scene comes primarily from the surprise and ridiculousness of it, which in turn stems from the pre-emptive associations we have of gangsters with control and ruthlessness, not mistakes and carelessness. Therefore, Tarantino is reliant on these common character types and the existing knowledge that the audience has of them. He is less concerned with, on the other hand, Propp’s 7 character types.

Originally intended as an overview of characters in folk tales, the types ‘hero’, ‘villain’, ‘donor’ to name a few, have little place in a Tarantino film where every character is morally questionable. The categories are problematic for a portmanteau film such as Pulp Fiction and worse when the narrative strands within that film overlap, like when Vincent (the closest to the ‘hero’ type in that story) bumps into Butch (arguably the ‘hero’ type the Gold Watch chapter) at the bar. In that scene, the audience is still positioned with Vincent, as Butch is yet to have been fully introduced and focused on. Therefore, this shows that the two characters cannot hold the title of ‘hero’ at the same time, and cannot truly be the ‘hero’ character in the entirety of the film Pulp Fiction.

Whilst Tarantino does not adhere to Propp’s 7 character types, he is still very clever in his audience positioning to the degree that two murderers could even make a claim to the ‘hero’ character type. Almost every single character in Pulp Fiction and most certainly the main ones commit numerous crimes and are terrible people, a fact that cannot be denied – Vincent and Jules kill the boys in the apartment, Butch kills his boxing opponent and Vincent, even Mia is married to a mob boss and snorts cocaine. Yet Tarantino constructs the film so that the audience enjoys and roots for these characters, who would be thoroughly disliked and avoided in real life. Thus, Pulp Fiction becomes an extreme form of escapism, allowing an enjoyment of violence that would be considered completely brutal and horrific in reality.

Furthermore, the change in audience positioning across the various chapters is a significant factor in making Pulp Fiction feel interesting and exciting to watch. This change in perspective allows the audience to rewatch the same moments with new eyes, a key example being the opening robbery. The first time, the audience watches the scene by the side of Honey Bunny and Pumpkin as they plan and begin to enact their robbery of the diner. However, when the same section is seen again at the end of the film, the audience is witnessing Jules’ reaction to the robbery, seen by the change in Honey Bunny’s line from “any of you fucking pricks move and I’ll execute every last motherfucking one of you” to “any of you fucking pricks move and I’ll execute every one of you motherfuckers”, as Jules has a penchant for saying “motherfucker” at the end of his sentences.

By overlapping the sequences in this way, Tarantino contextualises the seemingly random and unconnected opening scene with Honey Bunny and Pumpkin, stressing the importance of narrative perspective and creating a much more satisfying ending than the chronologically correct one of Butch and Fabienne riding away on the Chopper. He leaves us hanging until the very last moment to understand the opening scene, holding on to an anticipation created from the beginning, and this is what ultimately makes the narrative order of Pulp Fiction so skilful. Rather than a typical three act structure in which Todorov’s equilibrium theory can be seen, cleanly restoring equilibrium after progressing through the five stages, Tarantino breaks apart each story so that the audience does not get the resolution until he decides that we do.

Even when the audience might feel that there is nothing more to a story, the film takes a turn and surprises us again. On first viewing, Vincent and Jules seem to succeed in retrieving the briefcase in the Prelude, having shot most of the boys and located it, even if we haven’t actually seen them leave the apartment. To us, their leaving unharmed is an inevitability, something that doesn’t have to be shown, they could simply hand over the briefcase to Marsellus with an ellipsis in place of them walking out of the apartment. However, Tarantino throws this into question when the section is revisited in The Bonnie Situation: now, there is a boy hiding in the bathroom, ready to kill Vincent and Jules and has every chance of being successful. But Tarantino plays with the audience’s emotions yet again by having every single shot miss the incredulous Vincent and Jules and this acts as a cause for the effect of Jules having a religious awakening and giving up his life as a gangster. Tarantino’s twists and turns are thus another reason why Pulp Fiction does not conform to theories such as Propp’s 31 narrative functions.

The narrative functions are observations of the narratives in folk tales and the very nature of them as an exhaustive list suggests a predictability, something Tarantino keenly aims to avoid. Whilst a few of the functions can be found in the simpler story of Butch and The Gold Watch, such as ‘Departure’ and ‘Acquisition’, the 31 narrative functions are not a basis for film, and even if Tarantino were aware of them, he would most certainly not be using them as such. Additionally, the 31 narrative functions rely on the identification of a ‘hero’ and ‘villain’ according to Propp’s 7 character types, which is difficult in Pulp Fiction. Therefore, in the aforementioned example at the start of The Bonnie Situation, the events do not adhere to any of the narrative functions, because we are more likely to see the boys as naive, foolish, out-of-their-depth teenagers than villains, Tarantino’s surprises are not particularly accounted for in Propp’s functions and fundamentally, the narrative functions were based on folk tales, not fiction crime films. The 31 narrative functions are further distorted or destroyed in Pulp Fiction by its non-linear narrative, as they are ordered chronologically and are supposed to appear in this way.

Tarantino’s ordering of the narrative strands is very important in understanding why Pulp Fiction is such an engaging and exciting film. He opens with the amateur robbery enacted by Honey Bunny and Pumpkin, before showing the professional Vincent and Jules, then he hints at a forbidden sexual tension between Mia and Vincent that will never be acted on because of Vincent’s loyalty to Marcellus, before showing Butch, who disobeys Marsellus’ orders and escapes with his girlfriend Fabienne. Within the very structure of Pulp Fiction, there is binary opposition, which according to Levi-Strauss, drives the narrative and makes it more engaging. By interlacing these narrative strands, Tarantino forces these opposites closer together in order to heighten the juxtaposition between them. This makes it more compelling and noticeable when Vincent follows Marsellus’ orders and is consequently killed by Butch, the person who goes against Marsellus, yet gets to ride away for his happy ending with Fabienne.

Overall, Tarantino subverts narrative expectations in many ways, most obviously in his non-linear structure and portmanteau style. These particularly make the film difficult for the viewer, as they have to work to reconstruct the events chronologically in order to make sense of them. This is an intentional decision by Tarantino to make his audience active and, as he said himself, “It’s actually fun to watch an audience in some ways chase after a movie”. His clever audience positioning and lack of any clear ‘hero’ or ‘villain’ make the film more exciting for the viewer, we do not get stuck in the same perspective for the whole film, blindly following that character, instead Tarantino forces us to reconsider other characters, such as the way we respond to Honey Bunny and Pumpkin when we are placed with Jules, rather than those characters themselves. Tarantino’s alternative narrative choices are the root of what makes Pulp Fiction a different and unique film, as the stories themselves certainly are taken from Hollywood B-movies and magazine crime fiction. Therefore, it must be his unfamiliar approach to narrative that makes Pulp Fiction so exciting yet difficult, as the film in chronological order would not be nearly as fun.

Component 2b: Essay – Filmmakers’ Theories

“To what extent can it be said that your chosen documentary is shaped by the filmmaker’s approach? Refer to at least one filmmaker’s theory you have studied.”

Plan:

Introduction –

The documentary genre is broad and difficult to define, in fact, Bill Nichols classes all films as documentaries, but within two groups, wish fulfilment and social representation. (explanation) … He further categorises them by six modes: (name + explain). However, others believe that these categories are becoming increasingly weaker definitions and filmmakers often have their own clear ideas of what a documentary should be.

First section –

One filmmaker who seems to fit categorically into observational filmmaking is Kim Longinotto…

• she feels the style best fits her personality
• doesn’t want to construct events
• lends an authenticity to her films
• often avoids narration
• mention Salma as exception
• subject topic makes her different
• by her nature she makes people able to open up

Second section –

Longinotto’s auteurship can be seen in Sisters in Law…

• only two members of crew – not very obtrusive
• sound filmed there
• medium/close-up shots – focus on people + reactions
• lengthier shots, not much zooming – as if audience’s eyes
• women able to open up (refer to specific moment they are gathered round talking)
• style means sometimes subjects become unaware of camera, e.g men bullying Amina to get divorce
• rawness places audience there, able to empathise – she aims for audience to go through an experience
• no narration, able to follow story and form own opinion
• don’t need to be told what to think with the story
• she doesn’t want to change laws but mindsets – evident in this film

Conclusion –

Once the audience gains an understanding of Longinotto’s style, her filmmaking choices become clearer, e.g realise there is no need for her to add opinion to the story. A film like Sisters in Law would be entirely different if made by say Michael Moore, because he would impose his own narrative on the footage. The films she makes couldn’t be made be anyone else and aren’t, part of what makes her unique is her choice of subject matter…

Essay:

The documentary genre is broad and difficult to define, so much so that Bill Nichols simply classes all films as documentaries. However, he gives two categories of documentary: wish fulfilment and social representation, with the former being mostly fictional films and the latter being typical documentaries. Within this, he also provides six modes of documentary: expository, observational, participatory, performative and poetic. Other theorists believe that these divisions are baseless and all documentaries are mixed mode, whilst Nichols himself accepts that there are overlaps, but the documentary can be defined by the mode with the most dominant features present.

One filmmaker whose documentaries seem to categorically fit into Nichols’ observational mode is Kim Longinotto, though even in this case that is not necessarily true. Her film, Salma (2013) uses narration, a feature not normally present in Longinotto films, in order to re-tell the past of the titularly-named Tamil poet, yet although narration is one of the defining features of the expository mode, the narration in Salma is not argumentative, merely informative, making this film harder to categorise.

Longinotto’s usual observational style stems from her personality, as she says it is difficult for her to ask people to do something and is uncomfortable with the construction of events. This lends itself to an authenticity in her films and naturalness that is further pushed by Longinotto’s ability to make people comfortable and feel able to share their stories.

Therefore, Longinotto’s films are defined by the people within them, the stories they share and the overall subject matter, which is almost uniquely explored by her in documentary filmmaking. She is concerned with rebels and those who challenge tradition, often women in oppressive places, and focuses on making her films as a partnership with her subjects, rather than instructing them or taking control over the narrative.

Her style and attitude towards filmmaking is evident in documentary Sisters in Law (2005), which explores the legal system in Kumba, Cameroon, and the female professionals fighting for justice in court for the cases of abuse brought to them by local women. Longinotto often films with minimal crew, and this is true for Sisters in Law, which was filmed with only herself and a sound recordist present. This contributes to the authenticity of her films, as the crew of two have little impact on the events around them, making the footage closer to the truth.

Longinotto’s presence is not ignored, however, as she explains that she always uses a large camera that the subjects can easily see and is sometimes addressed directly. On the other hand, the subjects often become so involved in the real-life events, that their awareness of the camera reduces and Longinotto cited a moment in Sisters in Law as an example; when Amina is seeking a divorce, the four men in the room try and bully her into going back to her husband, even joking that her husband will “split her open” if she does so, but once they seem to remember that the camera is in the room, they become nicer and grant the divorce. This example lends itself to the idea that no film can be purely observational and truthful, because just the presence of the filmmaker impacts the events being filmed.

Additionally, Longinotto is not opposed to engaging with the subjects, unlike early observational documentarists, and there is a section in Sisters in Law when a group of women, including Amina, share their individual marriage stories to the camera. Even then, Longinotto’s presumable prompting questions are cut out, to avoid detracting from the stories and the naturalness of them opening up.

Part of the authenticity in Longinotto’s films is gained by her cinematographic choices, such as using limited zooming, to try and maintain the feeling that the audience is really in Cameroon, watching the events play out with their own eyes. Longinotto also uses mostly mid-shots and close-ups in the film, reinforcing the importance of the individuals and their reactions. The shots are rather long in length, allowing the audience to take in each scene for themselves, rather than using cuts to direct attention. A good example of this is the lengthy opening shot, which is filmed from a car and shows the local countryside, giving the audience the opportunity to gradually get a sense of the environment.

This ability to place the audience in the location helps Longinotto achieve her filmmaking aim: to tell a story that makes the audience undergo an experience that shifts their perspective and this is not benefitted by argumentative narration that tells the audience what to think. Rather, Longinotto’s style is characterised by the opposite approach, she does not want to give instructions to the audience, but enrich their lives and provide entertainment, just as a fiction film would. Chiefly, Longinotto wants to change mentalities not laws, which is a key part of Sisters in Law, as evidently the laws are already in place to convict male abusers, but the difficulty is in making women feel and be heard.

Therefore, Longinotto is an auteur whose presence is not required on screen or in narration in order for her impact to be obvious. Her off-screen presence evokes an honesty from her subjects that defines her films and there is a rawness and authenticity to Longinotto’s films that is unique to her approach. After gaining an insight into her personality and filmmaking theory, her choices become clearer, as does the narrative, character-based nature of her films, influenced by her fictional film-watching.

Her films would be entirely different if made by a documentary filmmaker such as Michael Moore, because he would impose a line of argument on them that is unnecessary; for example, the inequality and suppression in Sisters in Law is obviously terrible, there is no need for that to be spoken. Longinotto allows the stories to speak for themselves and another key difference between her and other filmmakers is that she sees her subjects as survivors, not victims, and thus does not attempt to portray the way in which they have been abused, but to show their path forward and their moves to make peace with their past.

This allows her subjects to take control of their stories, there is no way to undo what has happened in their past, but Longinotto provides them with a platform to spread their stories and depict their journeys. Her subject matter ultimately defines her films, as few others choose to address the topics of female oppression and discrimination and Longinotto has a style that is suitable for conveying these topics in a sensitive yet gripping way, developed by her own personal struggles.

Component 2b: Essay – The Significance of Digital Technology

“Portable, digital cameras, digital sound recording equipment and non-linear digital editing have had a very significant impact on documentary film.” How far has digital technology had an impact on your chosen documentary film? [20]

Plan:

Introduction –

Move from analogue to digital has affected every aspect, making things easier, cheaper and faster. This allows films that might not otherwise be made to be made, e.g Sisters in Law. It is a documentary by Kim Longinotto, which is about…

Main section –

• pre-production: funding (general) – digital technology is cheaper and more accessible
• pre-production: funding (Sisters in Law) – Kim Longinotto often struggles to get funding for her documentaries
• production: movement (general) – digital technology is lighter and has better manoeuvrability
• production: movement (Sisters in Law) – the camera is able to follow the subjects better, e.g Manka running up to her uncle. The camera can move around more to show the area and give the audience a better idea of location, e.g opening shots
• production: camera size (general) – digital cameras are more compact and lightweight, enabling their increased mobility and making them less imposing on the documentary subjects
• production: camera size (Sisters in Law) – the smaller cameras allow a more natural response from participants, e.g when the women are having a discussion together. The cameras are less obtrusive in sensitive situations, e.g the trials in the courtroom or the victims relaying their stories
• production: longer takes (general) – the camera can be left on for longer periods of time and does not require re-stocking, maximising amount of footage and reducing the risk of missing key moments
• production: longer takes (Sisters in Law) – the lengthier shots are less disruptive to the audience’s viewing and let entire events unfold without requiring re-stocking, e.g in the courtroom
• production: set-up (general) – cameras can be set-up more quickly or can be hand-held, allowing flexibility in shot choices
• production: set-up (Sisters in Law) – decisions were made at the time about which shots were suitable, giving the documentary more rawness and authenticity
• production: durability (general) – digital cameras are more robust
• production: reviews (general) – footage can be reviewed at the time and re-shot if necessary
• post-production (general) – editing is non-destructive, quicker (keeping the documentary relevant)

Conclusion –

Digital technology has allowed documentary filmmaking to evolve, enabling fly-on-the-wall documentaries and more truthful results. Films like Sisters in Law may not have been possible prior to digital technology, which allowed the documentary a manoeuvrability and unobtrusiveness that was essential for the location and topic.

Essay:

The move from analogue to digital in filmmaking technology has impacted every stage of filmmaking, from pre-production right the way through to post-production. Digital technology brings huge advantages to filmmaking in terms of ease, speed and cost and this is especially true in documentary filmmaking, where often the aim is to capture true events with minimal influence on the subjects. Another benefit of digital technology is the widening availability of equipment and, consequently, an increase in films produced. This means there is the opportunity for films to be made that may not have been previously feasible, and one such example is the documentary Sisters in Law by Kim Longinotto, which is about cases of abuse towards women in Kumba, Cameroon being taken to court by female legal professionals.

One reason Sisters in Law may not have been possible before digital technology is the pre-production issue of funding. Kim Longinotto often struggles to get enough funding for her documentaries and this likely would have been a much greater difficulty for her prior to digital technology, with the increased connections and lower prices that it brings. Since the rise of digital technology, filmmaking has become more accessible and the price of technology has decreased generally over time, in addition to digital storage being much cheaper than the analogue alternative, film stock.

During filming, digital technology has the ability to be more flexible in terms of set-up and cameras have become lighter, with increased manoeuvrability. This was maximised in Sisters in Law, with the camera able to move around to give the audience a better sense of location, such as in the opening shots. At the beginning of the documentary, the camera moves along, as if it were a car, showing the Cameroon countryside. This shot has a shakiness that makes it more authentic and puts the audience in the moment more effectively than a dolly shot could have done and the shot was likely only possible due to the compact, robust and hand-held nature of the camera.

The use of digital technology also allowed Longinotto and her crew to be more flexible and spontaneous with their shot choices. As the events were real-life, Longinotto and her crew had no way of knowing how they would play out, so decisions about framing and shot sizes had to be made at the time. With analogue equipment, this spontaneity would be more difficult, both with setting up the camera and due to the price of film stock, which meant that shots should have been carefully planned to reduce takes and keep costs down.

Some shots of the local environment may not have been planned and therefore not been filmed if analogue equipment was being used, such as the shot of two men constructing a bed frame. These shots are important in adding a sense of location and giving a feel of local everyday life. The camera moves back to focus of Manka, a 6-year-old who is featured as a victim of abuse in the documentary, before cutting to a wide shot of her running up to her uncle and cousin. The ease of setting up digital equipment then allows the camera position to move, so that there is a mid-shot of Manka and her uncle hugging, which is better suited for the intimate gesture and brings the audience closer to the two and more able to emotionally respond. The flexibility of digital equipment is crucial in allowing Longinotto to make the most suitable choices for each shot, such as the prior example.

Additionally, digital cameras can be left recording for long periods of time, without the need to replenish film stock causing disruptions. This requirement in analogue recording creates the potential for the filmmaker to miss key moments, which is especially detrimental in documentary filmmaking. Lengthier shots, such as when the trial charges are being read out, are necessary to avoid missing pieces of information and as the trial is occurring in real-time, with the filmmaker unable to repeat the process, any missed moments are lost and could affect the audience’s ability to understand the events. Longer length shots are also beneficial by being less disruptive to the viewing experience and making it easier for the audience to engage and be submersed in the film.

Sisters in Law is an observational documentary, making the use of more compact digital technology crucial in obtaining truthful results. Digital cameras can be smaller and more lightweight, so they are less imposing on the documentary subjects. The film deals with sensitive subjects, therefore unobtrusive cameras are more likely to gain natural responses from participants. Smaller cameras may make the participants feel more able to be open and honest when sharing their stories, such as when several women are sat round discussing the age at which they got married and the education they want for their children. In other delicate situations, like when Manka is taken to the legal office and the marks on her body are shown, a large camera would seem wrong and intrusive.

Other benefits of digital technology are the durability and robustness, as well as the ability to review footage at location. For Longinotto filming in Cameroon, checking shots immediately after recording them would have been incredibly important in avoiding disappointment when it came to post-production. Filming abroad requires travel expenses, therefore it is difficult to re-shoot any bad footage once home, making instant playback on digital technology very valuable.

Any mistakes in post-production are also much more easily rectified with digital technology than with analogue, when editing was a destructive and definite process. Post-production digital technology is important for speed of editing, allowing filmmakers to finish their film sooner and thus keep it more relevant, especially in regards to topical documentaries.

Overall, digital technology has allowed filmmaking to evolve, but has been particularly important in the development of different styles of documentary filmmaking, enabling fly-on-the-wall documentaries to be made, which provide more truthful results due to the unobtrusive nature of the digital camera. Films such as Sisters in Law may not have been possible prior to digital technology, which provides a flexibility, unobtrusiveness and manoeuvrability that was essential for such a sensitive subject and the particular location and also gives a rawness and authenticity that is suitable for the observational mode of the documentary and makes it more captivating for the audience.

Component 2c: Essay

To what extent can it be said that your chosen film movement represents an expressionist as opposed to a realist approach to filmmaking? Make detailed reference to examples from the silent film or films you have studied. [20]

At the time of the creation of film, the world was less connected, so in each country, the new art form known as cinema developed differently. The conditions in various countries were also different and this influenced the way in which films were created; for example, Germany had experienced the loss of the First World War and this led to darker films in the style of German Expressionism. On the other hand, Russia had little access to film stock and this affected film production there, eventually leading to an editing-focused style known as Soviet Montage.

Both German Expressionism and Soviet Montage are expressive forms of cinema, but they utilise different aspects of film to achieve different effects. German Expressionism focuses on exaggerated mise-en-scéne and metaphors that the audience must interpret. It followed on from the Expressionist movements in art and poetry and became prominent in Germany after the isolation of the German film movement in 1916, when films from other countries were banned. In addition, all film companies in Germany were taken over by the government run UFA, which promoted German culture and could spread propaganda during the two world wars. The style is known for its unexpected camera angles and dramatic lighting techniques, which add to its distorted and nightmarish imagery. The Expressionists were not concerned with their work being aesthetically pleasing and the plots were often based on insanity or identity, being very dark in theme.

As opposed to the German Expressionist focus on mise-en-scéne, Soviet Montage heavily focuses on the power of editing. This initially occurred because the filmmakers in Russia had little raw film stock to work with, so instead they studied physical film, dissecting the stock in order to analyse it. One of these people was Lev Kuleshov, a teacher at the film school VGIK and the inventor of the Kuleshov effect, which alters the meaning of a shot using the surrounding shots. The montagists suggested that the ultimate meaning of film is derived from the way it is cut together: the order, duration, repetition and rhythm of shots. Soviet Montage focuses less on individuals and instead portrays collectivism, suitable for the communist country in which the films were being shown. The underlying belief of the montagists was in the power of editing, and they believed that the illusion should be obviously constructed, so the cuts should be visible to the audience. The audience must then draw meaning from the juxtaposition of the shots.

Realists, on the other hand, believed there should be no illusion, never mind an obviously constructed one. André Bazin, a critic who later wrote and categorised film styles into realism and expressionism, held a firm preference for the realist. He believed that film should not manipulate the audience; they should be allowed to see everything and choose what to focus on. Similar to expressionist film, this required active participation from the audience, but in a vastly different way. Bazin and the realists did not support cutting to focus attention and thought that a sequence should play out with as little interference from the filmmaker as possible. The realists also attempted to depict true reality, and cinema vérité was a film movement in the 1960s that placed its focus on being the purest form of realism.

Although Bazin categorised all directors from 1920-1940 into expressionists or realists because he was looking back on the history of film, the directors at the time were unaware of film in different countries and the various styles, as they were developing their styles in parallel, not in collaboration. This meant the directors were not actively aiming to produce either realist or expressionist films and, as a result, some directors ended up with elements of both in their films.

One such example is Buster Keaton, director, stuntsman and comic actor of the silent film era. His films often depict real problems that were faced at the time and he plays on these to turn them into jokes. However, part of what makes his films so entertaining is the exaggerated mise-en-scéne and other expressionist features.

A prime example of the exaggerated mise-en-scéne in Keaton’s films is the house in One Week; its jumbled and twisted nature acts as a metaphor for the husband’s incompetence at construction. At the very start of One Week, a bell is shown with ornate framing, symbolising the wedding that has just occurred and therefore acting as a shortcut to provide the audience with information more quickly.

Part of One Week seems to utilise Keaton’s experience in Vaudeville, and this is the sequence with the piano. It is very carefully choreographed and rather over-exaggerated, from the man delivering it carrying it with one hand, to Keaton being ‘crushed’ by the weight of it. Most of the performance in One Week is exaggerated for comic effect, such as Handy Hank’s villainous and angry behaviour. The calendar plays a key role in signalling the change in time to the audience and similar to the wedding bell, acts as a shortcut.

Although the house itself is an expressionist feature in the film, the concept of owning a piece of land reflects the American Dream. Additionally, pre-fabrication and flatpack housing was common at the time, as resources were not openly available in the newly settled West.

The film realistically portrays gender roles at the time, as the woman is shown to be cooking, whilst the husband builds their house. Some of the editing displays realist tendencies, as certain scenes are allowed to play out in a wide shot with no cutting, giving the audience the ability to choose what they focus on. At one point, the camera moves, not to direct the audience’s attention, but to follow the movement of Keaton down the ladder, which is again a realist feature.

Another of Keaton’s films, The Scarecrow, begins with realism, as it shows Keaton’s character to have toothache, which was a common problem faced at the time. This was due to the expense of dental care and the general lack of dental hygiene. The fear Keaton’s character experiences towards the dog is also realistic, as there was the possibility that dogs had rabies. However, although the actual problems were real, the way in which Keaton depicts them is slightly expressionist. The toothache is symbolised by sling around Keaton’s head, whilst his reaction to the dog is rather exaggerated, as is the dog’s desire to chase after him.

Similarly to the house in One Week, the house in The Scarecrow acts as a base for some of Keaton’s jokes and is expressionist in its style. The men swing food to each other on string and wheel a trolley back and forth on the table, which was not typical for households at the time. The men seem to be clever with what they have but do not have much, shown by gas meter that they put a coin into but extract again using a piece of string.

There is what would now be considered a glance object shot part way through The Scarecrow. The mother of the female love interest is shown to be reading a book, before the screen cuts to a shot of just the book, which is circularly framed. This focuses the audience’s attention, directing it towards what the mother is reading and does not fulfil realist aims to allow the audience to choose their focus without influence from the filmmaker.

The High Sign perhaps contains the least realist features out of Keaton’s films, as much of the plot and performance seems expressive. The presence of a gang is the most realist part; during the Prohibition Age, gang culture was on the rise. However, the representation of the gang is very expressionist, as the characters are rather caricature-like. They have pronounced make-up, creating a shadowy appearance, most have moustaches, they use a secret hand signal, and the leader is extremely tall, to make him seem even more intimidating and scary, especially in comparison to Keaton’s small stature.

One of the few realist features is Keaton’s use of the newspaper to find a job, because advertising in the newspaper was a common way to attract job-seekers for employers at the time. On the other hand, Keaton then turns the newspaper into a joke, as it is excessively large and his character struggles to unfold the whole paper. This is a prime example of Keaton using an everyday item and a generally realist concept and over-exaggerating it for comic effect, making it more expressionist than realist.

In contrast, Cops displays more realist features and could be considered a critique of aspects of society. As the name suggests, the film is about police officers, who are celebrated in a big parade, implying that a strict and heavily enforced society is seen as positive by the leading members of society. However, one character throws a bomb into the parade, hinting at the dissatisfaction that some members of society may have felt with the way that it was being run.

Class division is clear throughout the film: in the opening, Keaton’s character and his love interest are separated by a gate, she on the inside and he outside, suggesting that as a woman she is more confined, but also that money separates lovers in this society. Although the characters are physically and metaphorically separated, there is the possibility for social mobility, as Keaton’s character aims to earn enough money so that he can marry his lover. Unfortunately, Keaton does not ultimately succeed and instead his character dies at the end, perhaps suggesting that society believes there is potential for social mobility, but it can not actually be achieved, and the poor must eventually succumb to the will of those above them.

Adding to the perhaps negative but realistic portrayal of the rich, when Keaton’s character picks up a man’s wallet to inspect it and perhaps even return it, the man automatically assumes that Keaton was hoping to steal from him. The fact that the man drops the wallet in the first place could suggest that the rich are careless with their money, as they have an abundance of it, but are unwilling to share with those more in need.

Despite the character’s need to earn money, Keaton is never shown to work for it, instead trying to find quick and easy ways to convince his lover that he is successful. This could imply the laziness of the society and highly contrasts the American ideal of the ‘self-made man’.

Although the film seems largely realist, moments such as the chase sequence fit more within expressionism. The sheer number of police officers chasing after just Keaton’s character is unrealistic, but that is what makes it comical.

Overall, Keaton’s films do not aim to be either expressionist or realist, as these are not categories that were formed at the time of their creation. However, looking back at them, there are features of both in his films. The use of circular frames to direct the audience’s attention goes against the ideals of realism, and much of the comedy in his films is created by the exaggerated mise-en-scene, which characterises German Expressionism. On the other hand, some of his films can be said to address real social issues of the time, giving them a quality of realism. Therefore, it is difficult to cleanly categorise Keaton’s films as either realist or expressionist and the degree of realism or expressionism depends on the film. Although, as a promoter of the realist, Andre Bazin might have felt that Keaton’s films were not purely realist enough to be considered realism.

Component 2a: Essay – Cinematography

‘Explore how aspects of cinematography are used to enrich meaning in your two chosen films.’ Make detailed reference to particular sequences in your answer.

Plan:

Introduction –

The directors of Pan’s Labyrinth and Wild Tales both creatively employ cinematographic techniques to manipulate the audience and create meaning.

Pan’s Labyrinth –

• low angle shot of ruins
• crane shot of landscape + destruction
• close-up of book = absorbed in it
• bedroom sources of light
• camera movement + push in on bed
• low angle shot of Captain
• wide aperture
• tracking shot
• camera arcs around Captain
• handheld steadicam = floaty feeling
• long lens but zoomed in = rebels’ perspective
• close-ups for importance
• cold blue lighting at end = reality

Wild Tales –

• centrally framed slideshow
• crabs to show guests
• camera dances around

Essay:

The directors of Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo Del Toro, 2006) and Wild Tales (Damiàn Szifron, 2014) both creatively employ cinematographic techniques to manipulate the audience and create meaning.

Throughout Pan’s Labyrinth, Guillermo Del Toro uses a variety of techniques for effect, ranging from camera movement, to shot types.

In the opening sequence, the audience is forced to take in the destruction of the rural landscape through an initial low-angle shot, looking up through the ruins of a cathedral. This is followed by a crane shot, which glides over a skull, a symbol of death, and rises over the wall to reveal the extent to which the area has been destroyed, war-torn, but since neglected. A wide shot allows the audience to see a significant amount of the land and shows that it all shares a similar fate.

Two of the main characters are introduced in this film through a close-up of the object that most defines them. First is a close-up of a storybook, which precedes a shot of Ofelia, suggesting that she is completely absorbed in what she is reading. A book is the most fitting object to represent Ofelia, as she often gets carried away by the magical realm. Her focus on the fantasy leads her to neglect the real world and the consequences that must be faced in it.

At the very end of the first sequence, the Captain is introduced after a close-up of his pocket watch. This could imply that he is mechanical and precise, as one would expect of a military leader, and is therefore defined by his role, having little personality aside from his designated position.

Sources of light are used by Del Toro to distinguish characters by their allegiance to either the rebels or the fascists. One example of this is in the bedtime sequence, where Ofelia and Carmen lie in bed together: Ofelia is bathed in the warm, orange light of the fire, whilst Carmen lays in the cold, blue light associated with the Captain, implying her conformity to his regime. A dividing line between the different lights and, therefore, between Carmen and Ofelia, is created, reflecting the duality of the film and the real versus fantasy worlds that are at play.

Throughout the opening of the bedtime sequence, the camera continues to move: it arcs around the bed then pushes in on Ofelia and Carmen turning into a mid-shot after initially being a wide shot, which showed how small they were in the Captain’s big, dwarfing bed. This gives a dreamy feel to the sequence and makes it more engaging, as when the camera pushes in, the audience focuses in on their conversation.

The sequence progresses into the Captain’s lair, with a low-angle shot of the Captain making him appear imposing and intimidating. It is also shot on wide aperture, which makes the background blurry whilst focusing the foreground; therefore, the Captain is the complete focus of the audience, as he would expect of people in his presence.

Once the Captain leaves the room, a tracking shot is used to follow his journey to the farmers. The fact that the camera follows him gives the Captain importance and suggests that what he does is of interest to the audience. Similarly, once the Captain has killed both farmers, the camera arcs around him and begins to track his return journey, implying that he is more important than any of the other characters who were there.

In the fig tree sequence, a handheld steadicam is used, giving the camera movement a floaty feeling. The camera arcs around Ofelia fairly slowly, feeling dream-like and allowing the audience to take in her reaction to wonders such as the giant fig tree.

The start of the fig tree sequences uses the well-known cinematic technique of the characters moving from left to right on-screen to show they are leaving to set out on an adventure. Equally, once they return home again, they move from right to left on the screen, signalling their return to the audience.

During the long shots of the Captain and his soldiers in the fig tree sequence, a long lens is used; the shot is compressed and filmed from a distance away, but the camera is zoomed in, making it seem as if someone is watching from far away with binoculars, which we later see that the rebels are. This puts the audience in the perspective of the rebels.

As Ofelia is about to enter the fig tree, the camera dollies back and tilts up to show her going into the tree opening. The entrance creates a frame within a frame and, additionally, Ofelia is centrally framed, so the audience’s attention is pulled towards the centre of the screen where she stands. The low-angle shot looking up at her from inside the tree shows her importance once she is in the fantasy world, as here she is ‘Princess Moanna of the Underworld’.

Inside the tree, the camera keeps changing its direction of movement, from right to left and back again, to show the confusing and twisting nature of the tree. A wide shot of Ofelia and the toad shows their relative sizes: the toad towers above the tiny Ofelia. There is a similar close-up of the rocks to earlier, but this time it shows them to be covered in mud. A whip pan is used as the toad’s long tongue emerges and once it has deflated, the camera tightens in on the key – the object of importance.

Once Ofelia is back outside the tree, the lighting is cold and blue, showing that she must now face the consequences of the harsh real world. The camera arcs around her to show her reaction towards her dirty clothes and allows the audience to take in the full extent of her muddiness. At the end of the sequence, the camera moves back into a long shot, dwarfing Ofelia and making her seem vulnerable and alone in the rain.

These various techniques throughout the film allow the audience to respond to the characters, such as feeling intimidated by the Captain through the use of low-angle shots of him, or being able to empathise with Ofelia because sequences are filmed at her height. Meaning is also created through the use of lighting: cold, blue light for the fascists compared to warm, orange light for the rebels.

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In the wedding sequence of Wild Tales, the camera techniques drastically change from beginning to end, the change in story being marked by a change in cinematography.

As the short begins, the screen shows a slideshow of childhood photos centrally framed, which draws the audience’s attention to it. The camera slowly pulls out from this into a wide shot of all the guests, whose attention is also drawn by this slideshow. Blue light is cast on the guests, as if it is the screen reflecting on them as they watch. Additionally, there are some flashing disco lights, implying the location and event.

Next, the camera crabs right to show the full extent of the guests, but the focus remains on the projector screen that displays the pictures. A sequence of wide shots establishes the setting and the sheer number of people present.

Romina and Ariel enter the room, with a spotlight on them, suggesting that they will be the main characters for the duration of the short. The camera moves through the crowd towards them as the open the curtain, then arcs around each of the couple individually, showing them hugging their family members. The camera almost dances around them, increasing in speed as the song increases in energy; however, it favours Romina over Ariel. The lighting makes it hard to distinguish the couple from the rest of the crowd, hinting at the over-crowdedness. Additionally, the camera remains at a lower angle, again making the room feel crowded. However, there is later a high-angle shot to allow the audience to see the large number of people in the room.

Steadicam is used at the start of the sequence, smoothly moving round the characters. In contrast, towards the end, the handheld camera is more shaky and unstable, accurately reflecting the situation and feelings of the characters.

As Romina speaks to a couple of her guests, pointing out the different groups in the room, the camera remains focused on her, instead of where she is pointing, to show that Romina is more important than them. Her attention is drawn by Ariel’s co-workers, and the camera zooms in on them, with Lourdes centrally framed. Romina moves away from the couple and becomes isolated in the frame. It is also shot with a shallow depth of field, making the background blurry, and the camera tightens in on Romina, who is visually and emotionally alone. A long lens is used, allowing people to walk between her and the camera, which shows that the room is bustling and busy and makes it feel like Romina is being watched.

Romina moves over to the mirror, coming into the frame of a seemingly out-of-focus wide-shot, which is actually focused on her. There is a rack focus in the mirror, shifting the focus from Romina to Lourdes. In the mirror, Romina surrounds Lourdes, suggesting she is imposing. Focus pulls are used here to direct the audience’s attention to the relevant person.

The camera arcs around the couple as they dance, which feels rather disorientating, and Ariel moves up and down out of the close-up shot, whereas Romina’s face remains fully in shot. The focus is entirely on them, the background is not visible, and the room’s lighting is much darker, although Ariel and Romina are lit up. Ariel is slightly more shadowed, suggesting that he has committed the dark deed of adultery and Romina is seeing a new side of him.

Ariel’s mother interrupts their dance, moving into the centre of the frame and visually separating Romina and Ariel, foreshadowing how she attempts to come between them later, by encouraging Ariel to press charges. As everyone stops dancing, so does the camera.

Once Romina has run out of the room, there is a close-up of Ariel, using a long lens to make it seem as if all the guests are watching him from a distance. Next, there is an interesting shot where the camera is attached to the door and swings at a 90º angle as Romina and Ariel, in turn, push it open and run down the corridor. This allows the audience to see both Romina and Ariel approach through the kitchen, then run away, all in a single shot.

A low-angle shot tracks Romina down the corridor, and gives the sense that she is going to topple over, from the unusual angle, and this reflects her mental instability at this moment in the film. A cut to Ariel shows him centrally in a frame within a frame, looking through the doors in the wrong location.

A bird’s eye view shot of Romina leaning over the balcony on the roof shows the city street far below, and implies that Romina is going to attempt to commit suicide. The following sequence, however, is filmed like that of a romantic one: there is a wide-shot of Romina and the kitchen worker centrally framed together, with the city lights glimmering in the background, that is very stereotypical of a romance, meaning our expectations are subverted. Additionally, this is shot on wide aperture and with a long lens, giving it a shallow depth of field and making the sequence feel very intimate.

In the stairway that Ariel is running up, there is dark, green lighting that could be foreshadowing his imminent jealousy. The kitchen worker is shot on a long lens once Ariel is on the roof, as if Ariel is the one looking at him. The camera occasionally shifts focus to the kitchen worker, as a reminder that he is still there, witnessing the confrontation between Romina and Ariel.

Back in the ballroom, the dancing recommences and there are flashes of red lighting amongst the blue as Romina walks over to Lourdes, showing her anger and suggesting that she is about to act on it. Romina invites Lourdes to dance and the camera is attached to them whilst the spin, again contributing to the dizzying effect of the sequence. The spinning is shot at a high shutter speed, allowing it to be seen more clearly. The shots of each of the women is done from over the shoulder of the other.

The camera moves closer to Ariel, who seems to have recovered slightly from the shock. There is a bang, followed by a wide shot to see everyone’s response to the scary noise. A mid-shot of Ariel shows that it was just a champagne bottle. The camera tracks Ariel as he moves over to the cake table, and it suddenly moves down as Ariel goes to pick up a knife. There is another wide-shot of the room to see the reaction to Ariel brandishing a knife. The shot is focused on Ariel, but shifts focus to his friends, as they warn him, then back to Ariel, to see his response.

Similarly to him looking at the knife, Ariel looks down at the cake on the floor, and the camera follows his gaze, putting the knife into context. After shoving cake into his mouth, Ariel walks over to Romina and there is a shot of just her looking up at him. This is succeeded by a shot of Ariel’s face, looking down at her, then followed by a similar shot of Romina looking at him, although slightly closer to her face. As Romina stands up, there is an over-the-shoulder shot, showing her reaction.

Romina and Ariel start dancing, and this sudden turn of events is emphasised by a shot of Ariel’s parents, which zooms in on them both looking shocked. Reflective of their first dance, the rest of the room becomes darker, with only them lit up, and this also suggests that they are only focused on each other now; they have long given up on caring what others think.

There is a close-up of their faces, and they gaze at each other, seeming more in love now than at the start. They move over to the cake table, and things progress, until they begin to have sex in the room. In the background of the shot, the final guest can be seen hurrying out of the room, leaving the newly-weds alone. The camera pans down to the floor, showing the cake topper and the increasing amount of cake that falls, implying their romantic endeavours.

In this short, the camera techniques often reflect how the characters feel; for example, the use of long lens shots implies the characters are being watched or feel as if they are being watched. Similarly, the transition from steadicam to shaky hand-held camera mimics the deterioration of the relationship between Romina and Ariel, making the later events seem even more disorientating and crazy to the audience.

Both films have very different cinematography; although both at points have floaty, arcing camera movement, such as in the fig tree sequence in Pan’s Labyrinth, and the opening of the wedding sequence in Wild Tales, when Romina and Ariel greet their guests. A big difference is the use of a hand-held camera in Wild Tales, the movement of which becomes very shaky and unsteady. The lighting in Pan’s Labyrinth seems to be of greater importance, as it distinguishes the characters into the two roles of ‘fascist’ or ‘rebel’, whereas Wild Tales appears to use lighting more for visual effect than hidden meaning. Overall, there is a variety of techniques in both films and these very much add to the meaning of the film and the response of the audience.

Essay – Take Two:

The directors of Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo Del Toro, 2006) and Wild Tales (Damiàn Szifron, 2014) both creatively employ cinematographic techniques to manipulate the audience and create meaning.

Throughout Pan’s Labyrinth, Guillermo Del Toro uses a variety of techniques for effect, ranging from camera movement, to shot types.

In the opening sequence, the audience is forced to take in the destruction of the rural landscape through an initial low-angle shot, looking up through the ruins of a cathedral. The following crane shot glides over a skull, which is a symbol of death, representing the loss of lives that war causes. It is then reinforced that the environment has also been partially killed by the war, as a wide shot allows the audience to see the extent to which this has occurred and observe the since neglected area.

Two of the main characters are introduced in this film through a close-up of the object that most defines them. First is a close-up of a storybook, which precedes a shot of Ofelia, suggesting that she is completely absorbed in what she is reading. A book is the most fitting object to represent Ofelia, as she often gets carried away by the magical realm. Her focus on the fantasy leads her to neglect the real world and the consequences that must be faced in it.

At the very end of the first sequence, the Captain is introduced after a close-up of his pocket watch. This could imply that he is mechanical and precise, as one would expect of a military leader, and is therefore defined by his role, having little personality aside from his designated position. The clock could also suggest he is conscious of time, as if he is aware that he is replaceable and, therefore, does have the luxury of time to get things done. The audience later learns that the watch was his father, which he smashed as he died so his son would know his time of death. This reinforces the idea of the watch as a countdown to the Captain’s death, or at least a symbol that time is limited.

Sources of light are used by Del Toro to distinguish characters by their allegiance to either the rebels or the fascists. One example of this is in the bedtime sequence, where Ofelia and Carmen lie in bed together: Ofelia is bathed in the warm, orange light of the fire, whilst Carmen lays in the cold, blue light associated with the Captain, implying her conformity to his regime and the control he has over her, like his soldiers. The light Carmen is placed in supposedly comes from outside, reinforcing her position as adult in the situation; she has experienced the real, outside world, while Ofelia has been sheltered and protected by her. On the other hand, the orange light Ofelia is placed in is used in the fairytale realm sequences and also has connotations of the rebels in this film. Ofelia herself is rebellious throughout the film, both to the Captain’s commands and her mother’s expectations, so the light associated with rebels seems to be fitting for her. Additionally, a dividing line is created between the different lights, reflecting the duality of the film and the real versus fantasy worlds that are at play. The line separates Ofelia from her mother, indicative of the opposing sides that they support and ultimately end up on; however, they manage to overcome their differences for the time being by cuddling in each other in bed, only visually, not physically, separated.

Throughout the opening of the bedtime sequence, the camera continues to move: it arcs around the bed then pushes in on Ofelia and Carmen turning into a mid-shot after initially being a wide shot, which showed how small they were in the Captain’s big, dwarfing bed. This gives a dreamy feel to the sequence and makes it more engaging, as when the camera pushes in, the audience focuses in on their conversation. The dreamy sense is also fitting for the time of day, as both are preparing to fall asleep, so the camera movement may reflect their state of alertness.

The sequence progresses into the Captain’s lair, with a low-angle shot of the Captain making him appear imposing and intimidating. This places the audience literally beneath him, meaning they are more able to empathise with others in the same position, such as the Doctor, who enters later in the scene. The camera height could reflect rank, as the Captain is higher in rank than anyone else, including the audience. It is also shot on wide aperture, which makes the background blurry whilst focusing the foreground; therefore, the Captain is the complete focus of the audience, as he would expect of people in his presence.

Once the Captain leaves the room, a tracking shot is used to follow his journey to the farmers. The fact that the camera follows him gives the Captain importance and suggests that what he does is of interest to the audience. Similarly, once the Captain has killed both farmers, the camera arcs around him and begins to track his return journey, implying that he is more important than any of the other characters who were there. The arcing movement is the opposite of jarring and juxtaposes the unexpected, shocking and cruel event that just took place.

In the fig tree sequence, a handheld steadicam is used, giving the camera movement a floaty feeling, fitting for fantasy realm and matching Ofelia’s meandering movement through the woods until she reaches the fig tree. The camera movement is reflective of her distraction from the real world, as she has her head in a book. The camera arcs around her fairly slowly once she has reached the tree, feeling dream-like and allowing the audience to take in her reaction to wonders such as the giant fig tree.

The start of the fig tree sequences uses the well-known cinematic technique of the characters moving from left to right on-screen to show they are leaving to set out on an adventure. Equally, once they return home again, they move from right to left on the screen, signalling their return to the audience.

During the long shots of the Captain and his soldiers in the fig tree sequence, a long lens is used; the shot is compressed and filmed from a distance away, but the camera is zoomed in, making it seem as if someone is watching from far away with binoculars, which we later see that the rebels are. This puts the audience in the perspective of the rebels and creates the feeling of distance from the soldiers, as if we are not complicit in their actions.

As Ofelia is about to enter the fig tree, the camera dollies back and tilts up to show her going into the tree opening. The entrance creates a frame within a frame and, additionally, Ofelia is centrally framed, so the audience’s attention is pulled towards the centre of the screen where she stands. The low-angle shot looking up at her from inside the tree shows her importance once she is in the fantasy world, as here she is ‘Princess Moanna of the Underworld’.

Inside the tree, the camera keeps changing its direction of movement, from right to left and back again, to show the confusing and twisting nature of the tree. A wide shot of Ofelia and the toad shows their relative sizes: the toad towers above the tiny Ofelia. There is a similar close-up of the rocks to earlier, but this time it shows them to be covered in mud, emphasising the sheer dirtiness of the tree that meant Ofelia could not even keep the valuable objects clean. A whip pan is used as the toad’s long tongue emerges, to show its excessive and scary length, and once it has deflated, the camera tightens in on the key – the object of importance, so the audience spot it at the same time as Ofelia and are aware of its presence.

Once Ofelia is back outside the tree, the lighting is cold and blue, showing that she must now face the consequences of the harsh real world. The camera arcs around her to show her reaction towards her dirty clothes and allows the audience to take in the full extent of her muddiness. At the end of the sequence, the camera moves back into a long shot, dwarfing Ofelia and making her seem vulnerable and alone in the rain.

These various techniques throughout the film allow the audience to respond to the characters, such as feeling intimidated by the Captain through the use of low-angle shots of him, or being able to empathise with Ofelia because sequences are filmed at her height. Meaning is also created through the use of lighting: cold, blue light for the fascists compared to warm, orange light for the rebels.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

In the wedding sequence of Wild Tales, the camera techniques drastically change from beginning to end, the change in story being marked by a change in cinematography.

As the short begins, the screen shows a slideshow of childhood photos centrally framed, which draws the audience’s attention to it. The camera slowly pulls out from this into a wide shot of all the guests, showing there are many of them, so the hosts of the party must be popular. The attention of all the guests is also drawn by the slideshow, suggesting it is important and of interest to them. Blue light is cast on the guests, as if it is the screen reflecting on them as they watch. Additionally, there are some flashing disco lights, implying the location and event and putting the audience into the party spirit, along with the guests.

Next, the camera crabs right to show the full extent of the guests, but the focus remains on the projector screen that displays the pictures, implying the people shown in them are still more important than individual guests. A sequence of wide shots establishes the setting and the sheer number of people present.

Romina and Ariel enter the room, with a spotlight on them, suggesting that they will be the main characters for the duration of the short. The camera moves through the crowd towards them as the open the curtain, then arcs around each of the couple individually, showing them hugging their family members, but remaining focused on them and the way they act around others. The camera almost dances around them, increasing in speed as the song increases in energy; however, it favours Romina over Ariel, placing the audience more in her position and making us more likely to empathise with her later on. The lighting makes it hard to distinguish the couple from the rest of the crowd, hinting at the over-crowdedness. Additionally, the camera remains at a lower angle, again making the room feel crowded. However, there is later a high-angle shot to allow the audience to see the large number of people in the room.

Steadicam is used at the start of the sequence, smoothly moving round the characters. In contrast, towards the end, the handheld camera is more shaky and unstable, accurately reflecting the situation and feelings of the characters.

As Romina speaks to a couple of her guests, pointing out the different groups in the room, the camera remains focused on her, instead of where she is pointing, to show that Romina is more important than them. Her attention is drawn by Ariel’s co-workers, and this is shown by the camera zooming in on them, with Lourdes centrally framed. Romina moves away from the couple and becomes isolated in the frame. It is also shot with a shallow depth of field, making the background blurry, and the camera tightens in on Romina, who is visually and emotionally alone. A long lens is used, allowing people to walk between her and the camera, which shows that the room is bustling and busy and makes it feel like Romina is being watched.

Romina moves over to the mirror, coming into the frame of a seemingly out-of-focus wide-shot, which is actually focused on her. There is a rack focus in the mirror, shifting the focus from Romina to Lourdes. In the mirror, Romina surrounds Lourdes, suggesting she is imposing. Focus pulls are used here to direct the audience’s attention to the relevant person.

The camera arcs around the couple as they dance, which feels rather disorientating, and Ariel moves up and down out of the close-up shot, whereas Romina’s face remains fully in shot, implying that her reaction is the one of interest. The focus is entirely on them, the background is not visible, and the room’s lighting is much darker, although Ariel and Romina are lit up. Ariel is slightly more shadowed, suggesting that he has committed the dark deed of adultery and Romina is seeing a new side of him.

Ariel’s mother interrupts their dance, moving into the centre of the frame and visually separating Romina and Ariel, foreshadowing how she attempts to come between them later, by encouraging Ariel to press charges. As everyone stops dancing, so does the camera.

Once Romina has run out of the room, there is a close-up of Ariel, using a long lens to make it seem as if all the guests are watching him from a distance. Next, there is an interesting shot where the camera is attached to the door and swings at a 90º angle as Romina and Ariel, in turn, push it open and run down the corridor. This allows the audience to see both Romina and Ariel approach through the kitchen, then run away, all in a single shot.

A low-angle shot tracks Romina down the corridor, and gives the sense that she is going to topple over, from the unusual angle, and this reflects her mental instability at this moment in the film. A cut to Ariel shows him centrally in a frame within a frame, looking through the doors in the wrong location.

A bird’s eye view shot of Romina leaning over the balcony on the roof shows the city street far below, and implies that Romina is going to attempt to commit suicide. The following sequence, however, is filmed like that of a romantic one: there is a wide-shot of Romina and the kitchen worker centrally framed together, with the city lights glimmering in the background, that is very stereotypical of a romance, meaning our expectations are subverted. Additionally, this is shot on wide aperture and with a long lens, giving it a shallow depth of field and making the sequence feel very intimate.

In the stairway that Ariel is running up, there is dark, green lighting that could be foreshadowing his imminent jealousy. The kitchen worker is shot on a long lens once Ariel is on the roof, as if Ariel is the one looking at him. The camera occasionally shifts focus to the kitchen worker, as a reminder that he is still there, witnessing the confrontation between Romina and Ariel.

Back in the ballroom, the dancing recommences and there are flashes of red lighting amongst the blue as Romina walks over to Lourdes, showing her anger and suggesting that she is about to act on it. Romina invites Lourdes to dance and the camera is attached to them whilst the spin, again contributing to the dizzying effect of the sequence. The spinning is shot at a high shutter speed, allowing it to be seen more clearly. The shots of each of the women is done from over the shoulder of the other.

The camera moves closer to Ariel, who seems to have recovered slightly from the shock. There is a bang, followed by a wide shot to see everyone’s response to the scary noise. A mid-shot of Ariel shows that it was just a champagne bottle. The camera tracks Ariel as he moves over to the cake table, and it suddenly moves down as Ariel goes to pick up a knife. There is another wide-shot of the room to see the reaction to Ariel brandishing a knife. The shot is focused on Ariel, but shifts focus to his friends, as they warn him, then back to Ariel, to see his response.

Similar to him looking at the knife, Ariel looks down at the cake on the floor, and the camera follows his gaze, putting the knife into context. After shoving cake into his mouth, Ariel walks over to Romina and there is a shot of just her looking up at him. This is succeeded by a shot of Ariel’s face, looking down at her, then followed by a similar shot of Romina looking at him, although slightly closer to her face, allowing the audience to fully gauge how she is feeling. As Romina stands up, there is an over-the-shoulder shot, showing her reaction.

Romina and Ariel start dancing, and this sudden turn of events is emphasised by a shot of Ariel’s parents, which zooms in on them both looking shocked. Reflective of their first dance, the rest of the room becomes darker, with only them lit up, and this also suggests that they are only focused on each other now; they have long given up on caring what others think.

There is a close-up of their faces, and they gaze at each other, seeming more in love now than at the start. They move over to the cake table, and things progress, until they begin to have sex in the room. In the background of the shot, the final guest can be seen hurrying out of the room, leaving the newly-weds alone. The camera pans down to the floor, showing the cake topper and the increasing amount of cake that falls, implying their romantic endeavours.

In this short, the camera techniques often reflect how the characters feel; for example, the use of long lens shots implies the characters are being watched or feel as if they are being watched. Similarly, the transition from steadicam to shaky hand-held camera mimics the deterioration of the relationship between Romina and Ariel, making the later events seem even more disorientating and crazy to the audience.

Both films have very different cinematography; although both at points have floaty, arcing camera movement, such as in the fig tree sequence in Pan’s Labyrinth, and the opening of the wedding sequence in Wild Tales, when Romina and Ariel greet their guests. A big difference is the use of a hand-held camera in Wild Tales, the movement of which becomes very shaky and unsteady. The lighting in Pan’s Labyrinth seems to be of greater importance, as it distinguishes the characters into the two roles of ‘fascist’ or ‘rebel’, whereas Wild Tales appears to use lighting more for visual effect than hidden meaning. Overall, there is a variety of techniques in both films and these very much add to the meaning of the film and the response of the audience.