Friday, September 17, 2010

M

“M” was, to my surprise, a much better, somewhat creepier, suspense film than I had expected. What was ironic, however, was that it was the lack of effects that made it so.
When I heard it was going to actually have sound in it, I expected the modern films where you could hear everything that was going on. For instance, I had expected that the scene with the child murderer hiding in the corner of that room in the building from his pursuers would have the (what I consider to be traditional, because of my generation) frantic hyperventilation sounds signifying his fear. Instead, there was no sound, but I found that the hectic feeling was actually doubled; I found I liked it better, because it displayed the truth of the situation: the murderer would not be concerned with his own breathing so much, but rather the disheartening silence that yielded the possibility of hazardous discovery. Then of course there was the eerie feeling of fate coming from the silent screen as I watched the child’s balloon and ball float and roll free from her lifeless hands.
Other times, it had sort of a disorienting feeling. People could be living out their daily lives, slamming doors behind them as they walked up creaky old stairs, yet I could not hear anything of that action. This disorientation also took place when the mob of people was trying to read the sign about the murderer. The camera focused on the poster, showing the backs of everyone’s heads so you could not tell who was talking, almost making you like one of the crowd.
This was quite a skilled irony. Though the film had the innovation of dialogue and other features in sound, it was the lack thereof that produced the most intense effect.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Man with a Movie Camera

Man with a Movie Camera struck me as a wonderful base of experimental film that I would be surprised if it hadn’t inspired some work somewhere. The stated point of the film was to try and develop a universal language across the world having to do with film, which it certainly achieved, at least in some respect.


The fact that the movie was basically a sort of cataloguing of everyday Russian life that, without the sound it so desires, contains no actual Russian Language, this provides the possibility for everyone to understand what is going on and bring everyone together in a purely visual experience, minus the orchestra of course. The lack of sound communication is made up for by the use of symbols found throughout the film, a personal love of mine. For instance, the use of stop motion photography to portray the camera as a living organism seems to make it a character in the story of the film, watching the world and showing it back to it.

Also, Vertov shows the power of cinema by bringing in another symbol, the editor herself. He shows her cutting and splicing different pieces of film, as well as having parts in the film in which it slows down and stops in succession. Showing that he and the editor ultimately have power over what you can see. This is also similar to the famous “eye of the camera lens;” it’s almost like a sort of symbol of power over the viewer.

Ultimately, I thought that Vertov was a filmmaker beyond his own time, what with the notes detailing the intended music for the film and the types of symbols he used in it.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Blade Runner and the holy trinity

Okay, so I had to watch the movie Blade Runner for my other class, Interactive Storytelling. Now, I'm not usually the best at spotting symbolism but I did find some things that were symbolic of christianity.

For one thing, the mysterious Tyrell, inventor of the replicants, a race of androids that are illegal on earth, acts as a God figure; he has ultimate knowledge of all the replicants and seems removed from all the world's troubles. Also, in the scene where he meets Roy, the other christian figure I will discuss, he wears a white outfit, symbolic of his Godlike character.

Roy, during the scene where he is chasing down Deckard (or however you spell it), he suddenly appears in a frame with a white dove in his right hand. The white dove, since early christianity, has been a symbol of the Holy Spirit. Also, to keep from dying, he pulls a nail out of a rotten floorboard and stabs himself in the hand with it, an allusion to Christ's time on the cross.

I am not exactly sure, but I would make the case that Roy dies in front of Deckard, who had made his living tracking down illegal replicants and "retiring" them, he acts as a Christ figure who dies for Deckard's "sins." It is after this moment that Deckard and Rachel enjoy their lives together, as he is sin free against replicants.

I'm not sure if i correctly captured the meaning or the scale of what was meant by these symbols, but it was just something I noticed.