Update 20 August 2010
UNIT
ONE - LESSON TWO:
MISE-EN-SCENE
|
LESSON TWO: Assignment List (also available at Week Three of our Moodle main room). Read through these You-Tube videos on aspect ratio, one of the most important concepts in the chapter. Recommended time to complete Lesson One: 9 hours. |
WEBLECTURE #2
Seeing with New Eyes, Part II
"We must compose images as
the old masters did their canvases, with the same preoccupation with effect
and expression." (Marcel Carne)
Recommended Website: Marcel
Carne
Definitions of Film | Film as Art | Film and Other Art Forms |
Film and Society (and Dr. Strangelove) | Staying through the Credits |
Mise-en-Scene: Getting Framed, Keeping Composed
FILM: SOME DEFINITIONS. Look up the word "film" in the dictionary, and you’ll find a variety of definitions relevant to our study here:
Film is a physical material, an object you can hold in your hand. To be precise, it’s a thin strip of flexible cellulose material coated with a "film" of photosensitive emulsion, though we also use the word to denote the can that covers the strip (and protects it from unwanted exposure to the light). In filmmaking, it’s called celluloid. You’ve probably taken photographs with a still camera; the material you use to record the information is called "film." For your standard snaps, you can get various brands of film (Kodak, Fuji, Kirkland, etc.) and various speeds (100, 200, 400, etc). You can even get black-and-white film in this age of color! Filmmakers use words like film stock and film gauge to designate these features. ["Hey, honey! Could you get me some more film?"]
The word "film" is a synonym for a motion picture, a moving picture, a "movie," a bit of flickering light, a "flick." ["Hey, lover, wanna go to a movie tonight? I heard it was a good flick."] We also use the word "movies" or "picture" in the same context: ["Yes, I'd love to go to the movies with you! Professor Floren says it's a great picture."] The word "film," then, can denote a single work, a specific movie ["I just loved that film!"].
- If you are interested in the industry itself, you can use the word "film" to denote a commercial product in the context of capitalism. ["Looky here, sweetheart, they may not like it in Peoria, but this film will make a killing on the West Coast!"]
- The word "film" can also designate an entire body of works, the whole culture of film as a medium of expression and communication or the art form itself. ["You know, dear, I’m a film fanatic!"]
- As a verb, "film" means the use of the material and medium to produce film texts: to direct, produce, or make a film. ["Oh, darlin’, I love it when you film me that way!"] top of page
FILM: AN ART FORM. We will be studying film as an art form, a particularly important art medium of expression, communication, and persuasion. You might want to think about these points:
1. Film is a young art form. Compared to other arts, which are pre-historic in origin, film is barely over 100 years old. The world's first copyrighted film is dated 1894, and the first public performance of films (by the Lumiere Brothers) in Paris took place in 1895
2. Film is technologically based. All art requires technique (method); but not every art form requires a technology, in the sense of a body of materials or implements (external tools or media) to achieve the artistic purposes. The most ancient forms of art require only the human body and mind:
- dance (the human body arranging itself in space),
- music (the human voice arranging sounds, humming, tra-la’ing),
- literature (the human voice arranging words--chanting, reciting rhythmically, singing songs, storytelling), and
- theater (a combination of dance, music, and literature re-enacting a story or giving human shape or expression to a feeling or idea).
While other art forms do not require technology, they usually use some external technology. To make a painting, you may use the technology of an implement, be it a rock, a stick, or a brush--and you may use the technology of dye or paint. To make a sculpture, you usually use some kind of chisel or shape-shifter and some material (like stone or clay) to shape. These days, all the art forms make use of sometimes very sophisticated technologies. But film simply would not exist without the technologies developed since the late 19th century.
3. Film is by definition a collaborative art form. You can make and deliver a song, a story, a dance all by yourself, but you can’t make a film by yourself. To make a film requires working with other people. Even if you are the director, star, and producer of your own one-person script, filming yourself with your camera on a tripod, and doing everything else including editing, reprinting, distributing, and exhibiting all by yourself―you’re still going to need help to make your film. You'll need someone to make the film, someone to make the camera, someone to make the editing equipment, someone to bring in the electricity, someone to make the light bulb, and so on. Normally, you work with many people to get your film made: technical crew, editors, producers, actors, musicians, and so forth. Your list is long--it includes the young woman who reminds you that the last time you filmed the scene, your hero was wearing a yellow blouse, not the blue one she has on today―as well as your teenage brother who goes out for pizza at 2 a.m. when everyone’s tired and testy and you still need to do another take. Normally, there are a lot of people who work on a film. And now that we're recognizing the worth of these people, we see the credits of movies get longer and longer. Film is a highly collaborative art form.
4. Film is a very expensive art form. You have read the papers and heard the news reports―millions of dollars are spent on feature-length films that get a large distribution (although a very good film can be made for mere thousands, and a decent draft of a video/digital short may cost less than $50 if you do not pay your crew and actors and you already own your equipment--but then to be fair you really do have to count the cost and upkeep of equipment).
5. Film is a social and ritualized art form. You go to a special building, a theater, expecting to experience a film with other people, many of them strangers, in the dark. If you’re a film lover or a student of films, and if you have developed yourself socially―you know the rituals. You get cleaned up, maybe even spiffied up, for a date with a friend or mate (or potential mate), or just for a date with the film itself. As the lights dim, you focus on the screen. You stop talking and shuffling around; you become part of the dream life of the filmmaker. You may scream or laugh, but you are not supposed to chatter as though you were watching a movie in your own living room and didn’t care whether anyone else caught every word or image on the screen. If you’re snacking, you’re not crackling papers or champing noisily on your popcorn. You’re not talking loudly to your neighbor or to yourself. Your cell phone is off. You are listening.
Movie lovers have respect for films and for the experience of watching films with strangers in a darkened theater. As director Mike Nichols (play director with awards for Annie, The Odd Couple, and Spamalot; and film director with awards for The Graduate, Carnal Knowledge, The Bird Cage, and Charlie Wilson's War) puts it:
The greatest thrill is that moment when a thousand people are sitting in the dark, looking at the same scene, and they are all apprehending something that has not been spoken. That's the thrill of it, the miracle -- that's what holds us to movies forever. It's what we wish we could do in real life. We all see something and understand it together, and nobody has to say a word. There's a good reason that the very best sound an udience can make -- in both the theatre and the movies -- is no sound at all, just absolute silence." (quoted by Charles McGrath in his article, "Mike Nichols: Master of Invisibility," New York Times, Sunday, 12 April 2009, AR9).
You are quiet out of respect and courtesy to others in the theater―unless the film requires audible laughs, screams, hisses, or oohs and aaahhs, in which case you join the others in the darkened room for a communal expression of emotion.
Sometimes the ritual requires vocalizing the lines themselves and dancing in the aisles―millions of dollars are spent on feature-length films that get a large distribution (as you know if you have ever been to the Rocky Horror Picture Show at midnight. (I saw it at the Strand!)The movie theater―this is the place where you can cry in public (it’s expected in movies like Saving Private Ryan). This is the place where you can make contact with your date―holding hands, or putting your arm around a shoulder to give comfort, or offering a handkerchief to say "I am here with you, and I care about you." You know that there are rules for social behavior in a movie theater, and you know that the rules may be different in other cities and in other countries, where even touching your date’s hand in public may be considered a serious violation and may get you thrown out. top of page
STAYING FOR THE CREDITS. At the end of the movie ritual, after the last scene plays out and as the credits begin to roll, you stay in your seat, quiet, alert, watching the credits, listening to the closing music, catching any final scenes, processing the whole film emotionally and psychically before you go out into the light and the world of normal experience. You stay to show respect to the filmmakers (of course, it is permissible to leave the theater at any time when you do not like a film and wish to express your opinion, as long as you do not disturb others who may be enjoying the experience). You stay for the credits out of courtesy for everyone, the others who stay and the ones who made the film, even the kid who brought the pizza. Now many people do not follow this rule these days, and that is too bad. But these folks probably have never studied film in a formal way; they probably do not know any better. You know better. You stay for the credits. (Check out what former students have written about staying for the credits.)
Unless you hate the film, you stay for these reasons:
- To show courtesy to others who wish to stay for the credits;
- To give respect to the filmmakers;
- To find out who helped make the film, where it was filmed, and other information that you get from the credits so you deepen your experience and understanding of the film;
- To experience all of the music in the film;
- To catch important scenes embedded in the credits (in movies like Reds, for example, or Being There, people who rushed out of the theater missed some of the highlights rolling during the credits);
- To get your money’s worth (why rush out when you’ve paid good money to see this film? Why not get the most out of it by seeing all of it?);
- To process the film’s emotions and ideas before going out to the light of ordinary consciousness (films affect you emotionally, and it’s not healthy to let this stuff remain unprocessed!);
- To experience all of the film! A film is not over till it’s over!
Credits are so important, in fact, that some people have advocated Academy Awards for great credits in both opening and closing sequences. In the early days of film, the credits were provided before the first scene of the film story, and they ended usually with "The End." Later, the credits moved primarily to the end of the film, after the last shot of the last scene; in a film like Citizen Kane (1941), for example, acting credits were accompanied by a clip showing that actor doing a bit in the film. Later in the 20th century, more and more people associated with making the film were listed in the film credits, and the opening credits usually showed only the director, the main stars, and the title of the film; a long list, including best boy for example, would then scroll as the last part of the movie. Films using digital technology, animation, computer graphics have very long closing credits sequences because so many people must be acknowledged for their part in making the film. Take a look at this short article on groundbreaking credits, including the credits for Dr. Strangelove; it includes images from great credits sequences (opening and closing) as well as links to videos of credit sequences from You-Tube: "Credit Where Credits Are Due.")
During the closing credits of Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me (U.S.A., M. Jay Roach, 1999), for example, several priceless moments of film are interspersed with various credits. I watched some of the moviegoers stand up after the last major scene, a few of them spoiling my view. They blindly shuffled out as the credits began, but they all stopped in the aisles when the credits cut away to a new scene from the film. When the credits rolled again, some of these moviegoers left the theater thinking there was nothing left to watch; they thought the movie was over! Were they wrong! (Double-O Behave!)
I can always tell the difference between those with limited knowledge of or love for films, and those who know and love films. I prefer being in the same theater with the latter, of course. top of page
- Art. Giannetti begins with chapters on photography and mise-en-scene. These chapters show the connections between film and the other visual arts, like painting, photography, printmaking, sculpture. Visual artists are interested in the artful arrangement of light and shadow, the composition of lines and shapes in a two-dimensional (or three-dimensional) form.
- Dance. Giannetti’s third chapter focuses on movement. This is the dance of the film―the way the subject moves before the camera (an actor, an animal, a moving object) and the way the camera itself moves (panning, tilting, craning, dollying and tracking). In fact, the word "cinema" comes from the Greek word kinema, meaning "motion" (as in "kinetic"). The rhythm of the movement can even be seen in the way the film is edited (Chapter 4 in Giannetti).
- Music. Chapter 5 in Giannetti is all about sound―dialogue, sound effects, and music. The artful arrangement of sounds as sound (whether we call them words, effects, or music) is really the bailiwick of the musician.
- Theater. Chapters on acting and drama focus on elements of the theatrical arts―though as I wrote earlier, theater is a combination of several art forms. Giannetti’s chapters provide insights on how theater (the "stage") is different from film (the "screen").
- Literature. Literary artists are interested in the artful arrangement of words. So Giannetti’s discussion of dialogue in the chapter on sound and his discussion of how editing shapes our understanding of the words of a movie shows ways in which film is based on literature. Who is the "author" of a film, the auteur? The director? Or the writer of the screenplay? The chapters entitled "Story" and "Literature" provide insights into how a filmmaker can use the techniques and technologies of the literary arts to express, communicate, and persuade. top of page
Of course, film―like all art―reflects the society and culture of the filmmakers. And it also has an effect on the society and culture that experiences it. Films grow out of the ideologies and philosophies of the filmmakers; films reflect their values, their experiences, their worldviews, their times.
One of the earliest epic films, Intolerance (1916), was made and self-financed by D. W. Griffith (the father of narrative cinema) in part to atone for the racism of his epic film on the Civil War, The Birth of a Nation, released a year earlier and said to have caused race riots in the country. As the writers of the PBS American Masters Website on Intolerance put it, the film, which "marked a new standard in film spectacle and in narrative complexity, intertwining four separate stories from four different historical eras" was "a plea for brotherhood and understanding as well as a polemic against the radical social reformers who had demanded that The Birth of a Nation be censored." The "Modern Story" part of Intolerance shows us how upper-class social workers of the early 20th century (when Griffith was alive and kicking and shooting film) interfered in the lives of working-class families; the film also reflects the injustices suffered by American workers during the early part of the 20th century (the part of the film begun in 1914 dramatizes actual events of 1914 such as the Ludlow Massacre of striking miners in Colorado and the bloody riots that accompanied a strike at a Rockefeller Standard Oil plant in New Jersey). top of page
Recommended Website: PBS American Masters Website on Intolerance
Dr. Strangelove―Or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.
Dr. Strangelove is as much a film about the Cold War anti-Communist hysteria in the United States of the early 1960s as it is about the threat of nuclear war in an era when the United States and the Soviet Union were enemies racing for superiority in the accumulation of nuclear arms, weapons of mass, if not world, destruction. Kubrick made his movie at a time when tensions were high―when the U.S. posture was to build up the arsenals, and win the arms race with the Soviet Union (two decades later, Ronald Reagan would call it the "Evil Empire"). The movie was released the same year Leonid Brezhnev came into power as leader of the Soviet Union (he held office until the early 1980s but had been an important Communist leader and rising Soviet star since the 1950s). It was Brezhnev under whom the Soviet doomsday machine was first conceived (though it was not known to most of the world until much later than 1964). Recommended site: Strangelove - relevance
I remember those days in the early 1960s. John Birch Society pamphlets raged against fluoridating water (the John Birchers maintained that fluoridation was a Communist plot to taint the purity of the water supply of the U.S. so the Commies could take over the country). Meanwhile, at Holy Cross High School in Mountain View, California, the nuns made sure that their girls were going to be safe. Certain as heaven that the bomb was likely to drop, particularly as tensions about the Cuban missile crisis increased, the nuns had us practice for air raids to come and required us to bring blankets, food, and water for storage in the gym. We planned to sleep over in the high-school gymnasium when the bomb dropped, and if we survived the blast, our being snuggled up in the gym would protect us from the radiation (and give us plenty of room for recreation if we got bored). We were sure that the other shoe was about to drop. (For more information about the Cuban missile crisis, see the recommended links below.)
It was a time ripe for Stanley Kubrick’s wickedly satirical vision, Dr. Strangelove―Or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.
And as much as Dr. Strangelove reflected the Cold War hysteria and arms race madness of the period―it also had the effect of shaking up those who screened it. The film showed me that my world could go crazy, and this awareness spurred me to take action. Outside of the grip of the madness of this film world, I could think clearly. I could think about my own responsibility to make the world a more peaceful place. Since I was convinced that peace could be brought to the world in peaceful ways, I was moved by the irony of soldiers shooting each other ("friendly fire" we call it now) in front of signs that proclaimed, "Peace Is Our Profession." The film thus took its place among the many events that helped to change the consciousness of a many young people of my generation, people like me, for whom "Flower Power" remains superior to nuclear power. And for whom making love is infinitely superior to making war. top of page
Images and lines in this film continue to inhabit my thoughts and affect my contributions to debates about nuclear arms and war:
Note the first minute and a half - the famous General Ripper's first confrontation with Group Captain MandrakeI think of General Jack D. Ripper of the menacing scowl and cigar as he recites his anti-Communist litany to Mandrake; "Buck" Turgidson and Ambassador de Sadesky scuffling on the floor of the Pentagon War Room, with President of the United States shouting, "You can't fight in here. This is the War Room!!!"; Captain Kong riding the bomb like a bronco as it descends on its "Ruski" target and whooping "Yee-hah!" (wavfile) in full patriotic frenzy.
Then there is the scene at the end, with Dr. Strangelove fighting hopelessly against a gloved hand with a mind of its own, attached to an arm struggling to salute the power of death and destruction, "Heil Hitler!," and winning in the end. I can't get it out of my mind. (It was such a surprising ad lib performance by Peter Sellers that the actor playing the Soviet ambassador broke his stern face―if you look closely during that scene, you will see the smile on his face. Kubrick kept it in the movie because he figured the acting performance was brilliant, and only film buffs would think to look at the people in the background―and film buffs get a kick out of these kinds of goofs.)
To me, Dr. Strangelove―Or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, seems just as important today as it was during the Cold War, maybe even more important. In some ways, things seem to be looking up. In 2009, President Obama (the first U.S. President to lead the United Nations Security Council) was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, partly for his ability to convince other world leaders to take action to reduce the stockpile of nuclear weapons around the world. In January 2010, the Doomsday Clock was set back by the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists because "international cooperation rules the day." Is the world a safer place now than it was when I was a teenager in 1964? Maybe, maybe not. There is still a frighteningly huge number of atomic weapons in the world, mostly controlled by the U.S. and Russia, and much of it unguarded. In addition are terrifying new biological weapons. Are we safer now or not?
Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove is a film with lasting power to clarify issues about international conflict, the relationship between civilian and military power, technology, bureaucracy, and world peace; it's a work of art, a fictional film, but reveals the real world. Among the events related to the inauguration of Barack Obama as the 44th President of the United States of America in January 2009 was a series of "Presidential Films" that included, Stanley Kubrick's classic dark war satire, Dr. Strangelove. In his review of a recently published book about the relationships between the United States and Russia and the weapons that still threaten world peace (The Dead Hand: The Untold Story of the Cold War Arms Race and its Dangerous Legacy, by David E. Hoffman), Dwight Garner calls the book "deadly serious" but verging on "pitch-black comedy -- 'Dr. Strangelove' as updated by the Coen Brothers" (September 23, 2009, New York Times book). Anyone seriously thinking about international conflict in an age of nuclear weapons and advanced technology knows the meaning of "Strangelovian," a word that has been in the cultural consciousness since Kubrick's film was released in 1964. A recent example of its use is in an article about a film released in late 2009: "The Men Who Stare at Goats falls short of Strangelovian Laughs" (Charleston City Paper online). So in many ways, this old black-and-white movie, with the special effects that seem so cheesy in an age of Avatar, continues to influence the way we see the world; and those who have watched and reflected on the whole movie are better equipped to understand why the film still has power to influence, why it has never gone out of style.
Watch this 3-minute clip from a documentary about the controversy over and relevance of Dr. Strangelove.
In his final chapters called―"Ideology" and "Theory"―Giannetti discusses the relationship between the world of film (the reel world) and the world we actually live in (the real world). Films arise out of the value and belief systems of their creators. They are always biased in that regard. And while they have the power to change the way we view the world, they meet us where we are―so that our bias affects what we see in any particular movie.
The films you screen have a powerful effect on the way you perceive the world because they become part of your mind. And when you see a film more than once (I’ll bet you’ve probably seen some films more than 10 times!), they have even more impact on your values and ideas. Certainly, these film experiences set up expectations for your lived experience. They are stories that lie along side the lived stories of your life. You’ve heard the expression, "You are what you eat." Think about this one: "You are the movies that you’ve screened." Being aware and having some understanding of the relationship between your film experience and your value system or frame of reference, being mindful of the relationship between your reel life and your real life―this brings clarity of thought and leads to enlightenment. top of page
A Note on Watching Black-and-White and "Old" Films. Why do film teachers recommend old films and old directors like D. W. Griffith, Fritz Lang, and Stanley Kubrick? It's because they were on top of their profession, because their films have great historical and artistic value, because we love film, and because, whether we are making or "reading" films, we learn from the best. Filmmakers who dared to create new forms and combine the old in new ways are worthy of being studied, and their films remain the core texts in a film studies curriculum. The movement of images and characters in Lang's Metropolis, for example, is astonishing, and has been copied time and again by later filmmakers. Dr. Strangelove is perhaps one of the greatest of all satires on war. I could go on, but you get the point.
The point is to be open to learning. Like the best film students, you understand that no matter how alien or difficult a film may seem, it's an invitation to learning more about film. Thus, you avoid using the word "boring" to describe a film like Dr. Strangelove because such a word simply dismisses your film experience as a film student; you understand that to dismiss a film as "boring" is to reveal ignorance or immaturity or a serious lack of curiosity or, for want of a better term, "slackerhood." As a serious film student, you can find fault with a film without resorting to the word "boring." You understand that you will like some films better than others; but as a serious film student, you know that you can learn something and communicate something new and interesting about any film. Like all serious film students, you aren't just waiting to be entertained; rather, you welcome the opportunity to open your mind to new film experiences, to work at seeing with new eyes, and to study and learn from those on whose shoulders the great filmmakers of the 21st century are standing.
The point is to be open to learning, to love your learning, and to apply what you're learning as you share your understanding and knowledge with others. You'll get better and better at this as we move forward this semester.
Recommended Dr. Strangelove Websites: Floren's Mise-en-Scene Analysis example | Floren's Historical Background for Dr. Strangelove | Cuban missile crisis | National Archives Website of George Washington University on the Cuban Missile Crises | more information from the Kubrick Multimedia Film Guide (images, audio clips, links) | The film is available, in pieces, at You Tube (Part 1 through Part 10) so you can review it; just search by the name of the film.
Recommended Stanley Kubrick Website: Senses of Cinema top of page
MISE-EN-SCENE: Getting Framed, Keeping Composed
In Giannetti’s second chapter, you learned about the shape of the frame, rectangular, with varying aspect ratios (aspect ratio: remember that term - it's one of the most important you'll learn this semester). You studied artistic composition, how the filmmaker places the elements within the frame, as though it were a two-dimensional painting. The interpretation of visual information within the frame entails analysis of elements you learned about both in the first chapter (shots, frames, lighting, lenses, filters, stocks) and in this chapter (proxemics, staging position, character placement, depth, framing, open or closed form, composition, density, dominants, and subsidiary contrasts).
- Recommended Websites on Aspect Ratio: Excellent demonstration/tutorial of Aspect Ratio formatting | Introduction to Widescreen produced by a Jackie Chan fan (interesting images showing different aspect ratios - click on "Aspect Ratio" at left-hand menu) || the Wide Screen.com advocacy page gives some great information || the Wide Screen Comparison page (includes useful visual comparisons of pan-scan and widescreen versions from Star Wars, for example―excellent visual examples to show the varying aspect ratios and what must be done to film when it is "formatted to fit your television screen.") || the American Wide Screen Museum (recommended by the Britannica Internet Guide)
A MISE-EN-SCENE ANALYSIS? To begin a mise-en-scene analysis in a film, you need to pick out a specific shot (a strip of film made as the camera rolls from "take" to "cut"). Then you start with a specific frame within that shot. You look at the visual information within a frame as though the two-dimensional form were a painting on the wall of a museum. You have frozen the frame in time; you have stopped the motion (or rather the illusion of movement). Either actually, or in your mind’s eye, you have hit the "pause" button; and what you see is a composition within a frame. What do you see first? How does your eye travel over the parts of the frame? What is placed in the scene? How is it shot and lit? What are the lines, where is the light, how is space arranged? These are some of the questions you address in a mise-en-scene analysis.
EXAMPLES: (1) See Giannetti pp. 83-86 for an example. (2) See Floren's Dr. Strangelove example (see below). (3) See this Website which provides more extensive explanation (quite good, I think): Mise-en-Sc
čne Analysis (I'd like to thank Nashielly Vasquez for bringing this site to my attention).
EXAMPLE. For an example of a 15-element mise-en-scene analysis of a frame from the War Room, click on Dr. Strangelove (the War Room). You'll be given another from from the film and will be asked to complete a similar analysis for the Unit One Exam.
Recommended: example of a partial mise-en-scene analysis from Metropolis (the robot gets life)
Note the expressionistic quality of this film poster. We would label it formalist rather than realist, in keeping with the formalist visual style of Lang's science-fiction film."The camera is only an accessory to the human eye and serves principally to frame--to include and to exclude. Within the frame, the artist collects that which he wishes to share with him; beyond the frame is placed what he considers of no value to his thought." (Josef von Sternberg) top
UNIT ONE: Lesson 1: Photography | Lesson 2: Mise-en-Scene | Lesson 3: Movement | Lesson 4: Editing | Lesson 5: Sound
Video Locator | IMDb |Created 27 July 1998. Revised 20 August 2010
Gloria Floren, Letters Department, MiraCosta College, One Barnard Drive, Oceanside, California 92056.
Contents Copyright 1998-2010Gloria L. Floren. All rights reserved. U.S.A.
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