Friday, August 10, 2012

BASEketball




BASEketball is a 1998 film about two slacker friends, Joe "Coop" and Doug Reemer, who after deciding that they need to make something of their lives, inadvertently create a new sport that is a mix between Baseball and Basketball. Yet, as their sport begins to flourish on a national level, one greedy businessman tries to monetize their newly formed professional league and threatens to cause an irreparable rift in their lifelong friendship.
The film has an extremely strong opening. Using voice over narration transposed onto classic sports images from the past, it explains how sports used to be an outlet for respectful competition and a test of strength/will. It then, in a satirical and extremely exaggerated fashion, goes into how sports has become over commercialized and nothing more than an industry of corporations and cities fighting over money. It does this in a very humorous and impactful way. Sadly, the promising beginning of the film quickly falls flat once the actual story begins to unfold. As the focus switches to the lives of Coop and Reemer, as portrayed surprisingly well by South Park creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the humor turns from smart and subtle, to immature and explicit. The jokes eventually reach a gross out level that provides no sort of humor for the viewer. The main reason I was drawn to the film in the first place was due to the collaboration of Parker and Stone, yet, their normal brand of humor that I have come to expect and love is not present in BASEketball at all.
Nonetheless, for a mindless comedy, David Zucker provides just enough capable direction for the film to be considered enjoyable. The story has a good premise, the acting is good, and the soundtrack, which features a number of Reel Big Fish tunes, is full of fun music. Even with its many faults, it’s still a movie worth checking out as long as you go into it with low expectations!

Monday, July 23, 2012

Fantastic Mr. Fox - Wes Anderson (2009)





Wes Anderson has proven to be one of the most aesthetically groundbreaking directors in modern cinema. Through films such as Bottle Rocket, The Royal Tenenbaums, and 
Rushmore, he has established a number of his own directorial trademarks and has crafted a very recognizable and unique style. Fantastic Mr. Fox is Anderson's first foray into the world of animated features, yet, instead of diminishing or dulling his stylistic tendencies, this change of mediums has helped him to further refine his auteur senses.

The film, which is based on a children's book of the same name by Roald Dahl, follows Mr. Fox who after years of being a newspaper man, returns to his old ways of stealing from the local farms for what he plans to be his last big job. When the infamous owners of the three farms that Mr. Fox raids retaliate, he must try to save himself, his family, and the local animals who he endangered. Like in many of his past films, Anderson also explores unique family dynamics, the innocence of childhood, and a number of quirky characters.

From the opening scene of the film, it is easy to tell that Fantastic Mr. Fox is a Wes Anderson film. The chapter title overlays, the music choices, the nostalgic costumes, pop culture references/props, the carefully arranged color palates, and the witty dialogue that we have come to expect from Anderson are all on full display throughout the movie. Also, Anderson collaborated with many of the same actors that he has worked with on his other film such as, Bill Murray, Owen Wilson, and Jason Schwartzman.

In Fantastic Mr. Fox, Wes Anderson has taken a beloved children’s book and turned it into a classic family film that is bursting with the same emotional and universal appeal of a Pixar production. He also did so while maintaining his vision and not changing his distinctive style despite the change to animation. The script, the voice acting, the design, the score, and the overall direction of Fantastic Mr. Fox are all great and if you have enjoyed any of Anderson's past work, or are just a fan of animated features, you are sure to enjoy, if not love, this film.  

8/10

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The Breakfast Club - (1985)






The Breakfast Club
 by Jared Guidroz

In the critically acclaimed 1985 John Hughes film, The Breakfast Club, the plot is simple. A Jock, a popular girl, a geek, a thief, and a burnout are all gathered together for a Saturday morning detention. While there, through a series of seemingly dramatic revelations and confessions, they realize that they are more alike than they thought. Despite a great cast, interesting premise, and proven director, The Breakfast Club is a mediocre film that loses itself after the first act.

The problem with the film is its lack of stakes. The first act consists mostly of the different students sitting in relative silence with John Bender, the local bad boy played masterfully by Judd Nelson, picking on and making fun of everyone in the room. After the characters finally begin interacting with each other, the movie turns into an almost full-fledged drama. Each character reveals at least one major trauma or problem from their life in an exaggerated fashion. These scenes are where the great cast, consisting of Emilio Estevez, Judd Nelson, Molly Ringwald, and Anthony Michael Hall, really gets to shine. Unfortunately, these intense moments and scenes are tarnished by the inclusion of a Beverly Hills Cop - esque soundtrack that does not compliment the tone of the film at all and the intermittent comedy centered events that follow them. After learning some of these extremely dark situations that their fellow detention mates are in, the group proceeds to, in no particular order, sneak out of their holding room, smoke weed together, and then dance around the library. It is also clear, due to a number of actions taken by the characters towards the end of the film that they have changed only a minimal amount, if at all, from the traumatic experiences and tumultuous discussions that they had throughout the day.  To see the characters, which you barely get to know in the first act, recover so quickly from the sharing of their emotional, mental, and family issues, in a way cancels out any sort of personal connection or sense of empathy/sympathy you have formed with them. It is also clear, due to a number of actions taken by the characters towards the end of the film that they have changed only a minimal amount, if at all, from the traumatic experiences and emotional discussions that they had throughout the day.

The Breakfast Club is one case of a film in which the parts are greater than its sum. It seems as though Hughes could not decide if he wanted to be a comedy or a dark psychological drama. It has a number of impressive scenes in both directions/genres, yet, as a mix of the two the film fails. While it may have been great for its time, it now comes off as cliché, stereotypical, and ingenuine.

5/10

Monday, October 31, 2011

Pulp Ficiton (Formal Analysis) -Tarantino (1994)



Pulp Fiction: Substance and Style incarnate

Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction is considered by many modern critics and audiences alike to be one of the most influential and iconic films of all time. With its progressive narrative structure, witty and pop culture laden dialogue, great acting, and use of extreme violence, it transcends many conventional Hollywood genres and becomes its own sort of mash up film. This, in addition to its odd subject matter, made Pulp Fiction a national cinematic phenomenon immediately upon its release in 1994. As esteemed film critic Richard Collins writes in his review of the film, “[Pulp Fiction] towers over the year's other movies as majestically and menacingly as a gang lord at a preschool.” The film won the prestigious Palm d’Or at the Cannes festival, and even garnered Tarantino his first academy award for best original screenplay. Even now, 17 years later, the film’s legacy stands and it remains in the eyes of many to be Tarantino’s seminal work. What has really made the film stand out is Tarantino’s unique application of style and manipulation of a variety of cinematic techniques throughout. As Ken Dancyger writes in his 2002 book, The Technique of Film and Video Editing: History, Theory, and Practice, Tarantino’s use of style in Pulp Fiction represents “a new phenomenon, the movie whose style is created from the context of movie life rather than real life. The consequence is twofold—the presumption of deep knowledge on the part of the audience of those forms such as the gangster films or Westerns, horror films or adventure films. And that the parody or alteration of that film creates a new form, a different experience for the audience.” (203).  Throughout Pulp Fiction, Tarantino effectively manipulates editing, cinematography, Mise-en-scene, and sound to create his own distinct style through which he foreshadows coming events, reveals character traits, creates suspense, and entertains.
Pulp Fiction is, at its core, a mixture of tales about the intertwining lives of two hit men, Vincent Vega (John Travolta) and Jules Winfield (Samuel L. Jackson), an aging boxer, Butch Coolidge (Bruce Willis), a mob boss, Marsellus Wallace (Ving Rahmes), and his wife, Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman). It follows all of these characters as they get into a number of very memorable, odd, funny, disturbing, intense, and emotionally charged situations. As Roger Ebert explains in his original review of the movie, “Pulp Fiction is a comedy about blood, guts, violence, strange sex, drugs, fixed fights, dead body disposal, leather freaks, and a wristwatch”. Although this may seem like a strange mixture of plot events, Tarantino handles each distinct scene maturely and with very close detail to multiple cinematic components thus making the movie sophisticated, and memorable.
One of the scenes in which Tarantino uses editing, cinematography, Mise-en-scene, and sound effectively to warn the audience of certain coming events, inform them of hidden character traits, and create suspense and anticipation,  is the one in which Vincent goes to the Wallace house to pick up Mia for the night. The scene begins with a tracking shot of Vince walking up to the glass front door, in which his body makes a dark shadowy silhouette, and finding a note taped to it. There is then a close up of the note accompanied by Mia Wallace’s voice over narration of its contents. The second Vincent enters the Wallace house, many of Tarantino’s choices regarding Mise-en-scene are apparent. The first overtly noticeable thing is the house’s color scheme. Nearly everything that is visible is white. This includes the couch, the lamps, the carpet, the walls, and even Mia’s shirt. To accentuate this stark white color scheme even further, the scene employs high key front lighting. This is ironic because generally in film language, white is closely associated with purity, and yet, the inhabitants of this particular home, Mia and Marsellus Wallace are anything but innocent. One is a crack addict while another is a hard headed mob boss. In addition to this, such a color scheme also creates juxtaposition between Vincent, who is wearing a black suit, and the rest of the house. This shows that he doesn’t belong at the house and may be foreshadowing the fact that something bad will happen if he stays there.  You can also tell that the house is very modern through its incorporation of many different kinds of technologies such as intercoms, and video cameras that watch over the main rooms.
While Vince is walking around the house for the first time, and Mia watches him via a camera viewing station, Tarantino incorporates a very important piece of seemingly non-diegetic ( we later find out that it was coming from a record player but we are given no indication of that before the end of the scene) sound into the film. This would be Dusty Springfield’s hit song, “Son of a Preacher Man”. This song is about a girl who only likes one guy who is the son of the local preacher (again playing with the theme of innocence). One of the lyrics in the song is, “Being good isn't always easy, No matter how hard I tried, When he started sweet talking to me, he'd come tell me everything is alright, he'd kiss and tell me everything is alright, Can I get away again tonight?” The first line of this verse relates directly to Mia’s drug addiction and the last line deals with the fact that she is going out with a man other than her husband Marsellus.
 While the song is still playing, the Tarantino also adds alternating close ups of Vince making a drink, and Mia snorting Cocaine. This is establishing the vices of both characters and will come into play later in the film. When Mia finally comes downstairs to join Vincent, she simply turns the record player off and says, “Let’s go”. This creates suspense due to the fact that the audience has no idea where the characters are going and  there has already been so much build up to their night out. It is worth noting that throughout this entire scene, we never fully see Mia’s face. We see her lips when she talks into the intercom, her arms when she’s in the intercom room, the back of her head when she snorts crack, and her feet when she goes downstairs, but never a full shot of her body or face. This creates even more confusion because the audience has no idea what she looks like. This tells us that Mia is a very complex character who doesn’t like to show her true self to others and hides behind many different walls. All of this creates anticipation for the next scene in the film.  After close analysis, it is quite evident that Tarantino uses editing, sound, and set design, to establish certain character traits in Mia and Vincent foreshadow forthcoming events, and create suspense within the audience.
Yet another one of the many scenes in Pulp Fiction that uses cinematography, mise-en-scene, editing  techniques effectively to create suspense and is the scene in which Mia Wallace overdoses and Vincent Vega must drive her to his drug dealer Lance’s (Eric Stoltz) house and revive her by stabbing her with an adrenaline needle. The scene begins with a long shot of an empty highway. It then cuts between medium shots of Lance, in his messy apartment which is shown in low key lighting and with yellowish color hues which represent the filth that is within it, and Medium close-ups of Vincent calling him while driving. Once Lance picks up the phone, the Medium close-ups of each character alternate in accordance with their conversation and who is speaking. After they talk on the phone, a long take begins when Lance hears Vince’s car barreling down his street. When he opens his blinds, he sees the car speed by and crash into the side of his house, angered, he storms out of the door and confronts Vincent. They then proceed to argue in the lawn about whether or not Vince can bring the recently overdosed Mia into the house. This part of the scene was shot on a small handheld portable camera. This can be discerned by the cameras extreme mobility and the small amount of shaking that is evident in the frame throughout the take. Yet another long take follows in which, Lance’s wife Jody wakes up to the commotion outside and demands an explanation, meanwhile, Lance and Vince are still arguing. As each of the three characters speak, or in this case yell, the camera pans back and forth between them. By using this technique, Tarantino creates a great sense of space for his audience. They know where everyone is located and are aware of both the off-screen and on screen space. Also, this extremely long take lasts for over one and a half minutes, which was extremely rare in an age in which the average shot length in most films was around 5-7 seconds. Tarantino employs the use of multiple long takes in this sequence to present the proceedings in a very visceral manner and convey the gravity of the situation. Also, the long takes make every action seem to last longer, seeing as though Mia is quickly dying, this elongation of events unsettles the audience and begins to instill fear in them.  
In the next few shots, Tarantino shows extreme close-ups of Mia’s chest area (Vincent is looking for where her heart is), the unwrapping of the adrenaline shot, and then he takes a smartly balances the frame by putting one of the three characters who are trying to revive Mia, Vincent, Jody, and Lance, in one third of the frame, while they are all looking over her. This balances the frame well and provides spatial continuity. The extreme closes ups then continue, one of an adrenaline bottle, and then one of Vincent drawing a red dot over the general area of her heart. In the moments right before Vincent stabs her with the needle, this pattern repeats again. The difference is, this time the shots are all zooming in to represent the intensity of the situation. There’s zooming extreme close ups of Mia’s bloodied face, the dripping needle, Vincent’s sweating face, the red dot on Mia’s chest, and Jody’s excited face. To further increase the suspense, Lance is counting down from three while these shots are projected. Vincent then proceeds to inject the adrenaline into her and she is revived. Within this scene, Tarantino also uses mise-en-scene effectively. Although it is a very intense scene, he injects little bits of humor into it to both amuse and entertain the audience. For example, during many parts of the scene, two classic board games can be seen resting on Lance and Jody’s shelf, The Game of Life and Operation. This is very ironic because they are fighting to keep a person alive throughout the scene and they must be extremely precise in their actions to do so. Lance is also wearing a Speed Racer shirt in the scene, which alludes to the dangerous way in which Vincent drove over to the house and to the kick that the adrenaline would eventually give Mia.
Pulp Fiction is a masterpiece by almost all standards. Tarantino’s supreme use of cinematic techniques, such as mise-en-scene, editing, sound, and lighting, throughout to inform, control, and entertain the audience make the film stand out and is a main reason why it is still revered today. Even now, after Tarantino has directed five more films (Jackie Brown, Kill Bill Vol 1,2, Death Proof, and Inglorious Basterds), almost all of which were well reviewed, Pulp Fiction remains his most popular and acclaimed. It is also his most stylized film, and can serve as a reminder to all about how through extreme attention and manipulation of detail, filmmakers can excite, upset, and ultimately influence us.



Friday, October 28, 2011

Taste of Cherry - Abbas Kiarostami (1997)






Abbas Kiarostami’s 1997 film, Taste of Cherry, is an Iranian film about a middle class and middle aged man, Mr. Badii (Homayon Ershadi) who drives around the barren hills, looking for someone to assist him in committing suicide. As he picks up and converses with different people about the job, including a young solider (Safar Ali  Moradi), an Afghani seminarist (Mir Hossein Noori), and an Azeri taxidermist (Abdolrahman Bagheri)We learn that he has already dug himself a grave in the mountains and he is planning on taking all of his sleeping pills and laying down in the said grave, hoping to die there. He is hoping that someone will go to the grave in the morning and check if he is still alive or not. If so, they are to help him out of the grave, if not, they are to fill the grave with the surrounding dirt.
The film is minimalist in nearly all senses of the word. There is little character development, numerous long takes of scenery and of Mr. Baddi’s car, a small amount of dialogue, long periods of silence, and few actors involved. Due to this languid and tedious style, the film received very mixed reviews upon its release. Despite this, Kiarostami continues to defend his style saying, “I don't like to engage in telling stories. I don't like to arouse the viewer emotionally or give him advice. I don't like to belittle him or burden him with a sense of guilt. Those are the things I don't like in the movies. I think a good film is one that has a lasting power and you start to reconstruct it right after you leave the theater.”
The Taste of Cherry consists mostly of four different shots. A close up of Mr. Baddi driving, a close up of whoever in the passenger seat, a long shot of the surrounding landscape, and a longshot above Mr. Baddi’s car as it winds through a number of roads. While they may seem insignificant, they can actually tell us a lot about Mr. Baddi and his psyche. First, it is worth noting that we hardly ever see a shot in which Mr. Baddi is with another person. In all of the conversations that take place in his car, Kiarostami uses the shot, reverse shot technique and ensures that each frame only contains one person. This signifies Mr. Baddi’s emotional separation from each of the characters and his indifference towards most of what they say. Also, the shots of Baddi driving remind us that he is in ultimate control of his life no matter who tries to stop him from committing suicide. The long shots of the car driving can be interpreted as a metaphor for the many twists and turns, or ups and downs of life. Following this logic, the sequence in which Baddi’s car get stuck in a ditch and workers help to lift it out could represent the fact that people often get down or into ruts and need people around them to help them up again. The many shots of nature serve a reminder of the beauty of life and as juxtaposition between such beauty and Baddi’s dark situation.  Kirostami also symbolizes Baddi’s separation from others by almost always placing something between him and the audience. For example, at the security station, we see him through a glass window, while in his house we again see him only through a window. We also see him through a cloud of dust, inside of a car, and even in the shadow on a piece of manual equipment all at varying times throughout the film.
No matter how you look at it, Taste of Cherry is a very ambitious work from an extremely talented director. Although Kirostami’s minimalist style has been rejected by many critics, he executes it well through his masterful use of cinematic techniques.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Breathless and French New Wave Cinema - Jean-Luc Godrd (1959)



In the late 1950s and early 1960s, a new kind of filmmaking emerged to the forefront of French cinema. A band of young critics, who worked for the French film journal Cahiers du cinema, including the likes of Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol, Eric Rohmer, and Jacques Rivette, revolted against the popular French directors and films of the time. They also cherished the works of many American directors, or as they would call them auteurs, who worked within the Hollywood studio system. These critics, upset with the seemingly bland state of French cinema, were not satisfied with just admonishing the films of their day. That’s why in 1959, with financial support from their families, many of these critics started to make their own movies. The product that followed shook the cinematic world, both in France and internationally. The films that these new visionaries were producing were unlike anything made before.  Unlike the over polished French cinema that had dominated the market previously, these new films looked very casual. This was a result of many of them being shot on location and without the use of staged lighting. Also in these films, the camera moved more than ever and used an abundance of tracking and panning shots. Many of them were also shot with lightweight handheld cameras, which offered cameramen the ability to be more flexible with their movements. Thematically, these films commonly used casual humor, pop culture references, nonlinear narration techniques, drifting protagonists, and ambiguous endings to enhance and experiment with the audiences viewing experience. Because of the quirky, energetic, and stylistic nature of these movies and their directors, this cinematic movement quickly became known as “New Wave”.
Jean-Luc Godard’s 1959 directorial debut, Breathless, is one of earliest, most cherished, and epitomical films of the French New Wave period. The idea that this film was part of the beginning of a new movement could be easily inferred by early audiences from one of the film’s original tagline alone which read, “Seriously stylish, outrageously sexy”.  Breathless follows a young and suave outlaw, Michael, played masterfully by Jean-Paul Belmodo, who steals everything he can ranging from money to cars and must hide away after killing a policeman who was attempting to pull him over for speeding. He then flees to Paris and begins staying with his romantic interest Patricia (Jean Seberg) who is a student who sells papers as a part time job and aspires to become a journalist.
Breathless is directly in line with many of the distinguishing factors of French new wave cinema. From a technical perspective, the film was shot exclusively on location, through a handheld camera, and with only natural light. The camera also moves a lot into small places such as Michael’s car, Patricia’s apartment, and a cafĂ© booth interestingly, to further itself even more so from the methodically planned and polished films that preceded it, a large amount of the movie’s dialogue was completely improvised between takes. Stylistically, Breathless also fits in with the new wave films. Michael is one of the typical drifting protagonists that came to be a hallmark of the movement. He’s cool, composed, and aimless. Also, the movie uses very casual humor. This is apparent at many points throughout the film such as when Michael talks directly into the camera, and thus to the audience, about people, who don’t like the city or French countryside, or when he cracks one of his many male chauvinistic, or sex related jokes. Many pop culture references about films (when Michael and Patricia are at the local cinema) and the famous actor Humphrey Bogart are made. To top it all off, the film ends with one of cinema’s most iconic death scenes and most ambiguous lines of dialogue. As Michael lies bleeding on the street, after being betrayed by Patricia and subsequently shot by the police, he says, “Makes me want to puke”. It is still unclear to many critics today whether he was addressing Patricia with this line or the state of the world itself.
Due to the many radical changes that it made to the old classical filmmaking methods, the French new wave movement, with Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless at its helm, changed cinema forever. Breathless is now seen as an iconic film that is now considered by many to be the epitome of the entire movement.






The King's Speech and Technology - Tom Hooper (2010)






Tom Hooper’s award winning film, The King’s Speech, wooed audiences and critics alike around the world last year on it’s way to winning 4 Academy Awards (Best Actor, Best Director, Best Picture, and Best Original Script). It offers us many warnings about how we, as media consumers in an ever-changing technological age should, or shouldn’t, interact with new forms of media. It also offers an insight on how any given form of media has the potential to both positively and negatively affect a society.
                On The surface, and at a purely explicit level, The King’s Speech may seem to be the story of a King (King George VI), his tumultuous ascension to the throne, and the speech problem that plagues him both before, and when he holds the aforementioned title. It’s a narrative of hope, friendship, and perseverance.  Yet, when you analyze the film on a deeper level, it is easy to see that it is about much more than this. The film is, in large part, is about the many effects, both positive and negative, that the invention and rising popularity of the Radio had on society and politics in the 1920s and 1930s.
                The popularity and widespread adoption of the radio changed many things for the royal family as well as all of society. For the first time it was not enough to just look like a King, you also had to be able to speak like one. Speeches that at one time were relatively private were now broadcast to all of a King’s subjects that, in many instances, spanned across many cultures.  While this new technological medium brought many positive changes about, such as transferring news faster to the masses and providing many new forms of entertainment to the general public, it also presented many problems for people with speech impediments or poor rhetoric skills.
I think that this example presented in The King’s Speech of how one form of new media can change society in both positive and negative ways is very informative and still relevant today. In the overtly technological age in which we live, it is important to be able to recognize both the pros and cons of each new form of media that we encounter so we can predict what effects it might have on our world as a whole. Oftentimes, people are so infatuated with the presentation and features of new technological mediums that they don’t consider the problems that they may present in the future. This suggests that we, as perpetual consumers in a material based society, have an obligation to approach any given media form with a certain degree of skepticism. As our technological knowledge continues to expand at an unprecedented rate, this idea will only become more important in the coming years.
This being said, The King’s Speech, also urges us to embrace the positive changes that new forms of media can bring to society. In the film, King George VI uses the radio to make his famous wartime speeches, which helped to unite his subjects and countrymen in a perilous time of uncertainty. From this, we can infer that while it is important to approach new media skeptically, we should not do so cynically. There is a fine line between the two and we must learn tread said line.
It is inevitable, especially in this day and age, that a myriad of new media forms will be introduced to us in the very near future. I think that The King’s Speech, urges us to enthusiastically embrace the progressive changes that they can bring about, but to also be aware of the negative effects they may have on our society as well.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Sound in The Shining - Stanley Kubrick (1980)




Stanley Kubrick’s critically acclaimed dark epic, The Shining, is widely considered to be one of the best horror movies of all time. The film, which is based on Stephen King’s book by the same name, follows Jack Torrance, played by Jack Nicholson, an unemployed writer, who takes the job of overlooking the large and secluded Overlook hotel over the winter while staying there with his wife, played by Shelley Duvall, and his psychic son,   played by Danny Lloyd, who has the ability to see both past and future events.  While at the hotel, Jack slowly slips into insanity. He sees visions of old hotel staff members, and guests, and eventually even tries to murder his family.
            Although Kubrick uses many aspects of filmmaking, such as cinematography, editing, and Misce en scene effectively in The Shining, most significant is his masterful use of sound. Throughout the movie, Kubrick uses both Diegetic and non-diegetic sound cues to manipulate and guide audiences. This is shown even from the opening scene of the film in which a slow and eerie music track is projected over shots of Jack Torrance driving up to the Overlook Hotel for his job interview. This part of the score lets audiences know that there is something about the hotel that is not quite right.
Kubrick conveys a very unsettling feeling through his use of sounds throughout the movie. The juxtaposition of the muted and extremely loud sounds of Danny’s plastic tricycle pounding against the wooden floor and then rolling across the many rugs in the deserted hotel are one of the ways in which he has this. Also throughout the film, the sounds change pitch often which also affects the audience. For example, when Danny first sees the two dead girls in the hallway, very high pitched screeching noises are played alongside distorted voices, yet, at other points, very low and somber tones are used. Kubrick also uses the setting of the empty Overlook Hotel very well. Because of its size, and acoustics, things tend to echo in the Overlook Hotel. By then taking small things, like the throwing of a tennis ball against a wall, typing, or even just talking, and playing them without music over them, Kubrick was able to use this to accentuate the emptiness of the hotel and the loneliness that the Torrance’s have to deal with.
Even more impressive is the close synchronization that is presented between the sound design and the on screen action. Throughout nearly the entire movie, the movie’s musical tracks match up very closely with the pace of what’s happening in the film. When characters are talking, relaxing, or just doing normal things, the music is slow, yet, when the action begins to pick up, the music builds and rises dramatically. This is exemplified most clearly in the final scene of the movie in which Jack attempts to murder Wendy and Danny, and chases them through the hotel, snow, and maze.
Kubrick’s manipulation of sound is only one of the things that makes The Shining such a classic yet, it is definitely one of the most important parts of the film. Through the use of sound, Kubrick manipulates, scares, and unsettles audiences throughout the duration of the movie and shows how effective and critical sound design can be.


The Fountain - Darren Aronofsky (2006)





The Fountain analysis

The Fountain, starring Hugh Jackman and Rachel Weisz is director Darren Aronofsky’s third film. Classified as a sci-fi romance, the 2006 film estranged critics and audiences alike with it’s exploration of complex themes of life, death, love, duality, morality and reincarnation. Aronofsky used numerous techniques to portray these many themes throughout the film, especially that of light. Light is used expertly throughout The Fountain to express both the enlightenment of characters, and the start of new life.
            Throughout most of The Fountain, the main character in all three parallel stories, Tomas, Tommy, and Tom, do not understand death. They are obsessed with the thought of eternal life, as well as with saving their significant other from impending death. Because of this, none of these characters are engulfed fully in light until later in the film. In the first and second acts of the film, Aronofsky purposely uses dark and dull color hues in the scenes involving, Tomas, Tommy, and Tom, in an attempt to show the audience a manifestation of their metaphorical blindness, or lack of understanding of death.
During this period, the significant others of the main characters are shown, fully bathed in light, when they gain an ultimate understanding of what they must do to create life from death. This is showcased after Izzi learns about the first father, an ancient Mayan who is said to have sacrificed himself in order to create the tree of life, and in turn live forever. After this revelation, Izzi faints while under a circular shaped light, which is shined directly on her. From this point on, she is no longer afraid of death, and sees that it is the only true way to create new life. A variation of this revelation also takes hold of Queen Isabella I of Spain, under whom Tomas is commissioned. She sees the Tree of Life as her way to everlasting life, and love. Under this pretext, she becomes at peace with her current place in life, and thus enlightened. She is then also, cast in a very bright, ethereal light.
In the third act, Tom, Tomas, and Tommy finally reach their ultimate catharsis and understanding. After the tree inside of Tom’s ship, which is inside of a dying star, dies, and the ship, moves towards supernova, Tom realizes that his death is the only way that he can be together with his manifestation of Izzi/Isabella, forever. After this, he is relieved, and upon the star that his ship is in being reborn, he is engulfed in light. Also, when Tomas is able to finally reach the Tree of Life, and inadvertently follows the path of the first father, he is enveloped in a bright light. Tommy reaches his understanding while remembering his refusal to take a walk in the snow with Izzi one day due to his workload. By changing the event in his mind to actually walking with her, in the bright outdoor light, he is able to understand that his work to cure death before her death was fruitless, and he should have spent more time with her. He understands that although a person may die, memories of them will always live on.
To further distinguish this aspect for the film, Aronofsky ensured that most of the lights throughout the movie are circular shaped. This is highly representative of one of the major themes of The Fountain, which is the circle, or cycle, of life. In the scene in which Tomas has been summoned to meet with Queen Isabella, the hanging lights also substantiate the idea of the three parallel story lines of Tomas, Tommy, and Tom.
Further interpretations of the usage of light in the film, can breed even more explanations and meanings. In many instances, the light schemes in the film can also be a symbol of birth, both metaphorically and symbolically. For Tomas, the temple that leads directly out to the Tree of Life represents a birth canal. This is shown through the shape of the architecture, and the bright light of the world which is right beyond it. For Tommy, his venture out of the dark, restricting research facility that he works at, and into the bright light, represents his mental rebirth. Tom’s ship could very well represent a fetus traveling through the fallopian tubes, and the culmination of the supernova, represents his physical and mental rebirth.
Darren Aronofsky is known for being an extremely conscientious director. This is greatly exemplified in his third film The Fountain. Throughout the film, he manipulates countless factors to both further the plot, and symbolize the underlying themes. One such factor, that is represented and used continually to do both of these, is the aspect of lighting.
           
            


        

Cinematography in Raging Bull - Martin Scorsese (1980)


           

Master director Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull was released in 1980.  It focuses on the life of the famous middle weight boxer Jake LaMotta, who is known to have had abusive tendencies, masochistic rage, paranoid jealousy directed towards his wife, and problems with overindulgence in a range of vices. The movie starred Robert De Niro as Jake LaMotta, Joe Pesci as Joey Lamotta, Cathy Moriarty as Vickie LaMotta, and Frank Vincent as Salvy (Scorsese would come to work with nearly all of these actors on many of his future films such as Goodfellas and Casino). Although it was met with only minor success upon its original release, Raging Bull is now considered to be one of the greatest films of all time.
            Arguably one of the best aspects of Raging Bull was its unique cinematography. The Director Of Photography, Michael Chapman, and Martin Scorsese made a number of decisions about how to film the movie that greatly affected it’s look and feel. This is apparent from even the first scene in which LaMotta is preparing for a fight alone in a smoky boxing ring. This scene was shot in slow motion while using wide- angle lens to enlarge the apparent size of the boxing ring and also using closed frame composition. The use of these techniques allows the viewers to notice that LaMotta is completely alone. This ends up applying to both inside and outside of the ring.
            The many fight scenes that we see throughout the film are also very interesting. In the 1970’s and before, most fight scenes were shot from the perspective of the spectators in the crowd. In Raging Bull, in order to make the film seem more realistic, Scorsese demanded that the fights be shot from the perspective of the boxers in the ring using Point of View shots. This allows viewers to see the expressions on the faces of the competitors. To accentuate the blood and sweat that would fly off the boxers in a  given match, the DOP effectively used backlighting. Rapid cuts were made throughout many of the fight scenes to portray the intensity and pace of the matches.
            Scorsese also decided to shoot the film in mostly Black and White to convey a sense of realism. It also conveys the emptiness of LaMotta’s life by the end of the film. The sudden switch to color when the LaMotta family’s mock home videos were shown in which they were all happy , is supposed to indicate to the viewer that their happiness is unrealistic and just a faced.