Throughout the practical production process, Tom and I have tried our best not just to research areas of media that are practically relevant, such as cinematography, semiotics and the methods of targeting an audience, but we have also tried to cover a range of theoretical ideas by distributing research tasks in areas of interest between ourselves.
Since starting the blog, both Tom and I have covered Genre Theory and Auteur Theory, and I have looked into issues of Representation.
Most recently, though, Tom has written this detailed post on Narrative Theory.
All of my posts relating to theory can be found here.
Showing posts with label Theory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Theory. Show all posts
Saturday, 26 February 2011
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
Representation: Laura Mulvey Vs. Us
'Representation' is a popular term used to mean a wide variety of things, but in the world of film, it used to refer to the way in which people or characters and their qualities are conveyed to an audience. For example, a disabled person or character may be portrayed in a negative light, and the film portraying them would be said to have represented the issue of disability in a particular way; a way which was received negatively.
Last year, for my AS production (an Opening Title Sequence), representation was an incredibly important consideration. We were emulating the style and genre of 'film noir,' a genre carried across films partly by stock characters such as the 'male anti-hero' and the 'femme fatale.' After learning the basics of semiotics, it became clear that such characters only remain consistent because they are represented consistently. In order to emulate the genre effectively, we had to ensure that our representation of the characters in our OTS matched up with that of characters in actual film noir movies.
In our current short film, we aren't attempting to emulate a particular genre, so the representation of our characters is in many ways more difficult to control. We have no stock characters, so we have no explicit guidelines to follow in terms of representation. To get a better idea of the ways in which we can represent our characters, and the effect this may have, I have looked at some contemporary theory in the field.
Laura Mulvey
Unsurprisingly, one of the most controversial issues in contemporary media theory is that of the representation of gender: arguably the most apparent dividing characteristic of the human race. In 1975, Laura Mulvey wrote 'Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema', wherein she utilised psychoanalytic theory to pull apart the representation of women in films, ultimately to propagate her own political ideology.
I personally have mixed opinions of the article; in some sections, Mulvey makes simple but powerful statements which are sensible and convincing, but in others, she makes outrageous claims that can be empirically disproved.
To give an example of a simple but powerful statement, Mulvey spends a paragraph explaining why the cinema is a part of the voyeuristic world of 'surreptitious observation.' She says: '...the mass of mainstream film, and the conventions within which it has consciously evolved, portray a hermetically sealed world which unwinds magically, indifferent to the presence of the audience, producing for them a sense of separation and playing on their voyeuristic phantasy.' Mulvey then strengthens her proposition further by talking empirically about the actual experience of watching a film in an auditorium.
By contrast, Mulvey later states the following: 'There are three different looks associated with cinema: that of the camera as it records the pro-filmic event, that of the audience as it watches the final product, and that of the characters at each other within the screen illusion. The conventions of narrative film deny the first two and subordinate them to the third, the conscious aim being always to eliminate the intrusive camera presence and prevent a distancing awareness in the audience. Without these two absences (the material existence of the recording process, the critical reading of the spectator) fictional drama cannot achieve reality, obviousness and truth.'
Whilst I believe she is right to say that conventional film-makers aim 'to eliminate the intrusive camera presence and prevent a distancing awareness in the audience,' I think her final statement, about fictional drama achieving reality, is somewhat pointless and nonsensical. Mulvey essentially states that the 'recording process' and the 'critical reading of the spectator' need to be hidden in some way for the film to achieve 'reality, obviousness and truth.' It follows from this that she believes it is entirely possible for fictional drama to achieve the quality of reality, and this is what I refute.
A film can never be real, obvious and truthful, simply because of the fact it is a film. Ontologically, a film, whether factual or fictional, edited or unedited, is simply a representation of something or other. Therefore, the closest it can get to being real is in being a representation of reality. Yes, a film is a 'real' representation, and what is represented can also be 'real', but it is still ultimately a representation, and so it does not constitute a reality in itself as Mulvey suggests it does.
Something else that makes me disagree with Mulvey is my own experience of the 'reality' of films. The film Cloverfield, and others like it, for example, don't attempt to hide the 'recording process' at all; in fact, they actively make the audience aware of the recording processes (albeit fictional ones). For me, the overt presence of the recording process makes the film feel much more real. Cloverfield essentially has the opposite effect to what Mulvey would expect.
Representation in Our Short Film
As I read through Mulvey's article, I wasn't taking a purely critical approach; I was also thinking about how the issues of representation involved were related to the Short Film Tom and I are producing.
Mulvey writes disapprovingly of the way in which the female figure is 'displayed for the gaze and enjoyment of men,' and she suggests that the 'male unconscious' gets pleasure from 'asserting control.' Although I would like to think that Tom and I are in no way succumbing to any set of patriarchal film-making conventions, I must admit that our narrative could be seen to do exactly that which Mulvey criticises. She says that there is a sadistic side of film that 'depends on making something happen, forcing a change in another person, a battle of will and strength, victory/defeat, all occurring in a linear timeline with a beginning and an end.' Our film follows an ambiguous male protagonist who essentially rescues a female from suffering, and this could easily be interpreted as having very chauvinistic undertones; we could be criticised for representing all women as helpless weaklings, and all men as misunderstood heros.
This is not, of course, our aim at all, and Tom and I will be taking the necessary precautions to ensure that our film does not carry such representational undertones. We want our film to provoke thought about 'selflessness,' not to enforce gender distinctions. It is true that our core trope is a very traditional one (a male hero rescues a female victim), but we have used this so that the unconventional and non-traditional aspects, such as the hero being selfless and unnoticed, are that much more apparent by contrast.
In short, this brief look into representation theory has highlighted the way in which representation can dramatically affect a person's interpretation of a film, and I am more determined than ever to ensure that Tom and I produce a short film that provokes the kind of thought we intend it to. In many ways, we have already made plans to represent women as more than a simple icon of voyeurism; at one point, we clearly show that the female character is more than an object by briefly entering her thoughts, and we don't advocate the traditional assumption that the female victim will either fall in love with or feel indebted to the male hero; in fact, she is somewhat repulsed by his actions.
Mulvey concludes that the 'decline of traditional film form' is a positive thing, and unless our production takes an enormous turn for the worst, it's going to be anything but traditional.
Last year, for my AS production (an Opening Title Sequence), representation was an incredibly important consideration. We were emulating the style and genre of 'film noir,' a genre carried across films partly by stock characters such as the 'male anti-hero' and the 'femme fatale.' After learning the basics of semiotics, it became clear that such characters only remain consistent because they are represented consistently. In order to emulate the genre effectively, we had to ensure that our representation of the characters in our OTS matched up with that of characters in actual film noir movies.
In our current short film, we aren't attempting to emulate a particular genre, so the representation of our characters is in many ways more difficult to control. We have no stock characters, so we have no explicit guidelines to follow in terms of representation. To get a better idea of the ways in which we can represent our characters, and the effect this may have, I have looked at some contemporary theory in the field.
Laura Mulvey
Unsurprisingly, one of the most controversial issues in contemporary media theory is that of the representation of gender: arguably the most apparent dividing characteristic of the human race. In 1975, Laura Mulvey wrote 'Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema', wherein she utilised psychoanalytic theory to pull apart the representation of women in films, ultimately to propagate her own political ideology.
I personally have mixed opinions of the article; in some sections, Mulvey makes simple but powerful statements which are sensible and convincing, but in others, she makes outrageous claims that can be empirically disproved.
To give an example of a simple but powerful statement, Mulvey spends a paragraph explaining why the cinema is a part of the voyeuristic world of 'surreptitious observation.' She says: '...the mass of mainstream film, and the conventions within which it has consciously evolved, portray a hermetically sealed world which unwinds magically, indifferent to the presence of the audience, producing for them a sense of separation and playing on their voyeuristic phantasy.' Mulvey then strengthens her proposition further by talking empirically about the actual experience of watching a film in an auditorium.
By contrast, Mulvey later states the following: 'There are three different looks associated with cinema: that of the camera as it records the pro-filmic event, that of the audience as it watches the final product, and that of the characters at each other within the screen illusion. The conventions of narrative film deny the first two and subordinate them to the third, the conscious aim being always to eliminate the intrusive camera presence and prevent a distancing awareness in the audience. Without these two absences (the material existence of the recording process, the critical reading of the spectator) fictional drama cannot achieve reality, obviousness and truth.'
Whilst I believe she is right to say that conventional film-makers aim 'to eliminate the intrusive camera presence and prevent a distancing awareness in the audience,' I think her final statement, about fictional drama achieving reality, is somewhat pointless and nonsensical. Mulvey essentially states that the 'recording process' and the 'critical reading of the spectator' need to be hidden in some way for the film to achieve 'reality, obviousness and truth.' It follows from this that she believes it is entirely possible for fictional drama to achieve the quality of reality, and this is what I refute.
A film can never be real, obvious and truthful, simply because of the fact it is a film. Ontologically, a film, whether factual or fictional, edited or unedited, is simply a representation of something or other. Therefore, the closest it can get to being real is in being a representation of reality. Yes, a film is a 'real' representation, and what is represented can also be 'real', but it is still ultimately a representation, and so it does not constitute a reality in itself as Mulvey suggests it does.
 |
| Actress Lizzy Caplan with Director Matt Reeves on the set of Cloverfield. |
Representation in Our Short Film
As I read through Mulvey's article, I wasn't taking a purely critical approach; I was also thinking about how the issues of representation involved were related to the Short Film Tom and I are producing.
Mulvey writes disapprovingly of the way in which the female figure is 'displayed for the gaze and enjoyment of men,' and she suggests that the 'male unconscious' gets pleasure from 'asserting control.' Although I would like to think that Tom and I are in no way succumbing to any set of patriarchal film-making conventions, I must admit that our narrative could be seen to do exactly that which Mulvey criticises. She says that there is a sadistic side of film that 'depends on making something happen, forcing a change in another person, a battle of will and strength, victory/defeat, all occurring in a linear timeline with a beginning and an end.' Our film follows an ambiguous male protagonist who essentially rescues a female from suffering, and this could easily be interpreted as having very chauvinistic undertones; we could be criticised for representing all women as helpless weaklings, and all men as misunderstood heros.
This is not, of course, our aim at all, and Tom and I will be taking the necessary precautions to ensure that our film does not carry such representational undertones. We want our film to provoke thought about 'selflessness,' not to enforce gender distinctions. It is true that our core trope is a very traditional one (a male hero rescues a female victim), but we have used this so that the unconventional and non-traditional aspects, such as the hero being selfless and unnoticed, are that much more apparent by contrast.
In short, this brief look into representation theory has highlighted the way in which representation can dramatically affect a person's interpretation of a film, and I am more determined than ever to ensure that Tom and I produce a short film that provokes the kind of thought we intend it to. In many ways, we have already made plans to represent women as more than a simple icon of voyeurism; at one point, we clearly show that the female character is more than an object by briefly entering her thoughts, and we don't advocate the traditional assumption that the female victim will either fall in love with or feel indebted to the male hero; in fact, she is somewhat repulsed by his actions.
Mulvey concludes that the 'decline of traditional film form' is a positive thing, and unless our production takes an enormous turn for the worst, it's going to be anything but traditional.
Monday, 25 October 2010
Genre Theory & Auter Theory
In my previous post, I wrote about 'genre' as a method of categorisation, and explained the restrictions of this method when applied to short films. After reading this post, our media teacher provided Tom and I with some reading material about Genre Theory and Auteur Theory. In this post, I will explore these theoretical fields, and explain their relevance to our practical production.
Genre Theory
This field encapsulates all study relating to the concept of 'genre,' from arguments surrounding its definition as a word in use, to analysis its utility in the modern world. Previously, I explained what I saw as the defining characteristics of a particular genre: narrative tropes, and the film's effect on the audience. I must stress, however, that this is only my personal perspective, and it is immediately clear from research that this is by no means a standard interpretation of 'genre.'
The concept of genre was first used by the Greeks, who felt that the type of person an author was determined the type of poetry they wrote. Evidence for this can be found in the earliest surviving work of dramatic theory, Poetics (c.335 BCE), where Greek philosopher Aristotle writes of poetry as having 'split into two kinds according to the poet's nature.' Whilst the distinction genre is used to draw here is very simple: that one author's work is different from another's, the implications of this are nonetheless very important; if there is a deterministic relationship between an author and his work, then genre relates to the process that created the work, and not just the work itself.
In The Law of Genre (1980), French philosopher and father of deconstruction Jacques Derrida articulated the idea of genre in relation to process, stating that texts actually participate in genres, rather than belonging to them. In a 1986 paper entitled History and Genre, Ralph Cohen responded to and built upon the ideas of Derrida, writing the following:
The concept of genre was first used by the Greeks, who felt that the type of person an author was determined the type of poetry they wrote. Evidence for this can be found in the earliest surviving work of dramatic theory, Poetics (c.335 BCE), where Greek philosopher Aristotle writes of poetry as having 'split into two kinds according to the poet's nature.' Whilst the distinction genre is used to draw here is very simple: that one author's work is different from another's, the implications of this are nonetheless very important; if there is a deterministic relationship between an author and his work, then genre relates to the process that created the work, and not just the work itself.
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| Jacques Derrida sporting a quintessentially philosophical look. |
'...since each genre is composed of texts that accrue, the grouping is a process, not a determinate category. Genres are open categories. Each member alters the genre by adding, contradicting, or changing constituents, especially those of members most closely related to it. The process by which genres are established always involves the human need for distinction and interrelation. Since the purposes of critics who establish genres vary, it is self-evident that the same texts can belong to different groupings of genres and serve different generic purposes.'
In contemporary Genre Theory, British semiotician Daniel Chandler has stated that genres create order to simplify a mass of available information; to promote organisation instead of chaos. Whilst most modern theorists agree with Chandler as to the utility of genre, many still argue differently over the best method of categorisation. Jane Feuer, the Professor of Film Studies at the University of Pittsburgh, sees genre classification as being divisible into the three following methods:
- Aesthetic - Texts organised according to certain sets of characteristics.
- Ritual - If a text performs a 'ritual' associated with a 'system of ritual', then it is a practising member of that 'system.'
- Ideological - Texts promoting or evoking similar ideologies are part of the same category. (This is the method most commonly used when marketing a text.)
Conversely, in Writing Genres, Amy J. Devitt talks about genre as being a rhetorical device. She essentially states that genres are not free-standing entities, but are interconnected amongst themselves and the works they describe; they are generated from the culmination of every factor present in the construction and consumption of a text. Whilst this particular theory, with its fluid and versatile method of taxonomy, doesn't make the categorisation process any easier, it does allow for more choices, for both the consumer and the producer; genre is there simply to aid a decision, and consumers and producers are free to choose how to use it.
The idea of choice and personal freedom brings us nicely onto Auteur Theory.
Auteur Theory
Auteur Theory
Unlike Genre Theory, which is a field of study containing many different ideas, Auteur Theory is more comprehensive and distinct, making it a theory in itself. Advocates of Auteur Theory believe that a director's creative vision will always be apparent in their work, regardless of the production processes it endures.
The theory takes its name from the French word for 'author,' because the first proponents of auterism were writers for the influential French film magazine of the 1950s, Cahiers du Cinéma. They praised filmmakers such as Alfred Hitchcock, Howard Hawks and Jean Renoir for being the absolute 'auteurs' of their films. Part of the purpose of auterism was in promoting Alexandre Astuc's ideal approach to filmmaking, where directors would use cameras in the same way writers use pens, so that they are not hindered by conventions in film and storytelling.
Since the 1960s, Auteur Theory has been criticised by critics and screenwriters alike, who have argued that it is wrong to ascribe authorial merit to the Director alone, when screenwriters and producers have given an equal amount of creative input, if not more.
Contention or Collaboration?
Some critics and spectators see Genre Theory and Auteur Theory as being at odds with one another; they believe that the former argues that all films abide by a certain set of conventions, of which there is a finite amount, and they believe that the latter argues the opposite: that films are free from constraints, and the resultant product is purely dependent on the filmmaker's vision. I think advocates of this view misunderstand the ideas of Genre and Auteur theorists.
I am of the opinion that Genre Theory as a field of study and Auteur Theory as a hypothesis are interelated; I believe that the collective artistic voice of a production team does transcend genre (in the sense that genre can only categorise to a certain extent, and the influence of the artistic voice surpasses this extent, making a film unique within its genre), but I also believe that genre is important for filmmakers and viewers alike. Genre provides a method of taxonomy by which we can organise and identify our tastes, experiences and sources of inspiration; whether we subscribe to the tastes, experiences and sources of inspiration of others, or of the past, is an individuals own decision.
What Does it All Mean?
Well, for Tom and I, Auteur Theory instills a great amount of confidence; if filmmakers truly have total creative freedom and control, then together we can surely achieve exactly what we intend to. Genre Theory, whilst not so inspiring, is helpful all the same, for it affirms the usefullness of genre in organising our own ideas. My own personal study of genre has also assuaged my fear that genre constrains filmmakers' with conventions; I now see genre as something much more versatile and fluid, which tends to appear more concrete from the perspective of consumers, who are bombarded with genre categories in the process of marketing.
In summary, I now feel confident to continue taking our short film in the direction Tom and I want, and I see the utitlity of genre when it comes to marketing a film. In our subsidiary products, a review and a poster, we will include a combination of conventional factors from the overlap of genre that will no doubt be present in our film between mystery, film noir, and drama. This way, we can market the film to its most responsive audience, but also retain its uniqueness.
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| Alfred Hitchcock |
Since the 1960s, Auteur Theory has been criticised by critics and screenwriters alike, who have argued that it is wrong to ascribe authorial merit to the Director alone, when screenwriters and producers have given an equal amount of creative input, if not more.
Contention or Collaboration?
Some critics and spectators see Genre Theory and Auteur Theory as being at odds with one another; they believe that the former argues that all films abide by a certain set of conventions, of which there is a finite amount, and they believe that the latter argues the opposite: that films are free from constraints, and the resultant product is purely dependent on the filmmaker's vision. I think advocates of this view misunderstand the ideas of Genre and Auteur theorists.
I am of the opinion that Genre Theory as a field of study and Auteur Theory as a hypothesis are interelated; I believe that the collective artistic voice of a production team does transcend genre (in the sense that genre can only categorise to a certain extent, and the influence of the artistic voice surpasses this extent, making a film unique within its genre), but I also believe that genre is important for filmmakers and viewers alike. Genre provides a method of taxonomy by which we can organise and identify our tastes, experiences and sources of inspiration; whether we subscribe to the tastes, experiences and sources of inspiration of others, or of the past, is an individuals own decision.
What Does it All Mean?
Well, for Tom and I, Auteur Theory instills a great amount of confidence; if filmmakers truly have total creative freedom and control, then together we can surely achieve exactly what we intend to. Genre Theory, whilst not so inspiring, is helpful all the same, for it affirms the usefullness of genre in organising our own ideas. My own personal study of genre has also assuaged my fear that genre constrains filmmakers' with conventions; I now see genre as something much more versatile and fluid, which tends to appear more concrete from the perspective of consumers, who are bombarded with genre categories in the process of marketing.
In summary, I now feel confident to continue taking our short film in the direction Tom and I want, and I see the utitlity of genre when it comes to marketing a film. In our subsidiary products, a review and a poster, we will include a combination of conventional factors from the overlap of genre that will no doubt be present in our film between mystery, film noir, and drama. This way, we can market the film to its most responsive audience, but also retain its uniqueness.
Wednesday, 13 October 2010
Genre & Short Films
Dictionary.com defines the noun 'genre' as follows:
- A class or category of artistic endeavor having a particular form, content, technique, or the like: the genre of epic poetry; the genre of symphonic music.
- Fine Arts A) paintings in which scenes of everyday life form the subject matter. B) a realistic style of painting using such subject matter.
- Genus; kind; sort; style.
The genres regularly used to categorise feature-length films are as follows, along with some of the associated characteristics:
- Horror - Scary, shocking, unnerving, dark, absurd.
- Thriller - Tense, complex, mysterious.
- Sci-fi - Futuristic, visually stunning, obscure.
- Comedy - Funny, simple, feel-good.
- Drama - Thought provoking, emotional, meaningful.
- Documentary - Factual, relevant, contemporary, witty.
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| An image from The Exorcist (1973), an iconic film of the horror genre. |
Although people tend to relate genre just to the tone and effect of the film, the aspects that tie a film to a particular genre actually go much deeper. As I see it, genres are defined by narrative tropes and the intended effect on the audience. I use 'tropes' in the way it is defined by Meriam-webster.com:
Taking the 'Thriller' genre for example, a defining trope could be: an ambiguous event occurs and a character attempts to uncover and/or rectify the situation, and a defining effect could be: the audience are made to feel tense, and eager to follow the complex plot.
If you browse the internet looking for short films, you will find that the vast majority fall into the categories of comedy or drama, with only the occasional thriller, and perhaps even a rare horror short. This, I believe, is no coincidence, or even an artistic trend, but an inevitable result of the method of categorisation we apply when we talk of 'genre'. As I explained above, genres are defined by narrative tropes and the intended effect on the audience. Short films are restricted in terms of genre, because they cannot facilitate tropes that are suited to feature-length running times. In other words, there aren't a great amount of 5-minute thrillers, because filmmakers would be hard-pressed to convey a quintessential thriller trope in that short period of time.
It follows that, the longer a film's running time is, and the greaters its budget is, opening more avenues for creativity, the greater the film's capacity for tropes becomes. Because it is unfair, and less sensible, to judge a short film's genre on the tropes it contains, people generally rely on the other side of the coin: the film's effect on the audience. Personally, I beleive that short films mainly fall into the genres of either comedy or drama, because this is the greatest distinction anyone can make based on the effect on the audience alone. A comedy clearly makes people laugh, and a drama obviously draws out emotion, but a thriller could do either or both of these things, and still be called a thriller, as could a horror, documentary, or a sci-fi. In summary, short films have less scope in terms of genre, because they are less capable of facilitating the tropes that define a genre, and are judged solely on their effect on the audience, which will always be to either draw out emotion (like a drama) or make people laugh (like a comedy); otherwise the short film wouldn't be worthwhile.
Basing judgement on our ideas so far, I would categorise our short film as a drama. I think it is incredibly important, however, that we do not let this categorisation influence our piece; Tom and I take our inspiration from a great variety of sources, and it would most certainly be detrimental to restrict our creative input in order to comply with a particular genre. Nevertheless, I think it is worthwhile to clarrify and summarise ideas from time to time, to help ensure the planning and production is specific and achievable; the last thing we want is to begin drawing up a storyboard with no certain narrative, only a vague ordering of events. Therefore, I will state that, 'currently, we are aiming to produce a cerebral drama with a tint of mystery and noir.'
Considering this, my next step will be to research the work of directors whose films combine the elements Tom and I hope to combine in ours. After this, I will clarify our ideas for the films narrative in a synopsis or treatment, which will illustrate the chronology of the key scenes, their relevance, and the intended message of the film.
b : a common or overused theme or device : cliché
Taking the 'Thriller' genre for example, a defining trope could be: an ambiguous event occurs and a character attempts to uncover and/or rectify the situation, and a defining effect could be: the audience are made to feel tense, and eager to follow the complex plot.
If you browse the internet looking for short films, you will find that the vast majority fall into the categories of comedy or drama, with only the occasional thriller, and perhaps even a rare horror short. This, I believe, is no coincidence, or even an artistic trend, but an inevitable result of the method of categorisation we apply when we talk of 'genre'. As I explained above, genres are defined by narrative tropes and the intended effect on the audience. Short films are restricted in terms of genre, because they cannot facilitate tropes that are suited to feature-length running times. In other words, there aren't a great amount of 5-minute thrillers, because filmmakers would be hard-pressed to convey a quintessential thriller trope in that short period of time.
It follows that, the longer a film's running time is, and the greaters its budget is, opening more avenues for creativity, the greater the film's capacity for tropes becomes. Because it is unfair, and less sensible, to judge a short film's genre on the tropes it contains, people generally rely on the other side of the coin: the film's effect on the audience. Personally, I beleive that short films mainly fall into the genres of either comedy or drama, because this is the greatest distinction anyone can make based on the effect on the audience alone. A comedy clearly makes people laugh, and a drama obviously draws out emotion, but a thriller could do either or both of these things, and still be called a thriller, as could a horror, documentary, or a sci-fi. In summary, short films have less scope in terms of genre, because they are less capable of facilitating the tropes that define a genre, and are judged solely on their effect on the audience, which will always be to either draw out emotion (like a drama) or make people laugh (like a comedy); otherwise the short film wouldn't be worthwhile.
Basing judgement on our ideas so far, I would categorise our short film as a drama. I think it is incredibly important, however, that we do not let this categorisation influence our piece; Tom and I take our inspiration from a great variety of sources, and it would most certainly be detrimental to restrict our creative input in order to comply with a particular genre. Nevertheless, I think it is worthwhile to clarrify and summarise ideas from time to time, to help ensure the planning and production is specific and achievable; the last thing we want is to begin drawing up a storyboard with no certain narrative, only a vague ordering of events. Therefore, I will state that, 'currently, we are aiming to produce a cerebral drama with a tint of mystery and noir.'
Considering this, my next step will be to research the work of directors whose films combine the elements Tom and I hope to combine in ours. After this, I will clarify our ideas for the films narrative in a synopsis or treatment, which will illustrate the chronology of the key scenes, their relevance, and the intended message of the film.
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
Directorial Techniques to Consider
Now that we have our initial ideas pinned down, it is important to begin considering the practical techniques we can actually use to convey those ideas. After listening to our pitch, our teacher provided us with some films that may be of interest to us. Among these were the films Apocalypto, for its ability to tell a story in a foreign language, even if watched without subtitles, and Dead Man's Shoes, for its distinctly British style in both a visual and narrative sense.
Apocalypto
Apocalypto is an action epic made by Mel Gibson in 2006, which focuses on the story of one Mayan villager during the civilisation's demise. Although our aims in making a short film are pretty much polar-opposite to those of Gibson in his high-budget feature, Gibson does utilise techniques that we could also find useful. In our pitch, I explained that an important feature of our film would be an internal monologue of the protagonist. Because this monologue will dominate the film, we won't be including a great amount of diegetic dialogue. However, one of the main messages we want our film to carry is that 'selflessness often goes unrecognised,' and the lucidity of this message obviously depends upon the minor characters' reactions to the protagonist. If we are to keep the amount of dialogue to a minimum, and also illustrate the minor characters' ignorance of the protagonist's actions, then we must be efficient in visual storytelling.
This is where Apocalypto is relevant. All of the speech is in the Yucatec Maya language, and without subtitles, viewers such as Tom and I, who are far from fluent in the language, have to watch the film more closely to understand it. Viewing a film in this way makes the role of visuals in the storytelling much more apparent.
The excerpt below illustrates this well; even if it is muted, and the subtitles are ignored, the scene still makes sense. A story is told through the physical actions of the actors, the type of shot that captures them, and the way these shots are edited together.
After watching the film with visual storytelling in mind, one thing that stood out to me was the abundance of eyeline matches. These are a staple in visual storytelling, because they exhibit the world of the film from a character's perspective, and provide justification for the way that character may act. Even if they are very short and subtle, they can convey important pieces of information. One example of a very subtle but important eyeline match can be seen at 2:54 in the video above; if it were not shown that the offering had been presented, then a factor of the negotiation between the two tribes would be lost, and the tribe of Jaguar Paw would seem much more easily persuaded. The fact that so much of the meaning of the scene would be changed by the omission of one shot illustrates the potency and importance of visual storytelling, and shows why it will be an important factor for Tom and I to consider during the production of our film.
Dead Man's Shoes
Dead Man's Shoes is a gritty independent thriller about a disaffected soldier who returns to his home town in the British midlands to take revenge on those who caused the death of his brother. As a film directed by Shane Meadows working with Warp Films, it works to most of the conventions of the vigilante/revenge thriller genre, but is set in a small town in the British midlands. Whilst the location initially seems incongruous, the beauty of Meadows' directing is in the way he can ground even the weirdest and wildest of events in reality through his use of characterisation and dialogue, so that they don't seem incongruous at all.
This aspect of Meadow's films can be seen in the below excerpt of Dead Man's Shoes. From 0:50 onwards, we see Meadows' interpretation of a conventional 'character stand-off'. Although we have many of the conventions of such a scene from a an old Western movie; namely two enemies sizing one-another up in quite a lengthy sequence to create a great amount of tension, Meadows manages to depict something that is quintessentially British. The characters are made to fit into both their location and the situation at hand; they look moderately intimidating as a gang, appear realistically unprosperous in the car they use and the way they dress, and seem quite uneducated in the way they ineloquently converse. At the same time, the protagonist, with whom the leader of the gang talks, is very unnerving in his arrogance, but without breaking the bounds of what is credible for such a person in his position. (This is all very much related to the concept of semiotics, which I introduced here on my AS blog)
Essentially, Meadows keeps his films sharp and interesting by providing the audience with a certain amount of social realism. Realism helps to captivate people, because they feel more willing to empathise and associate themselves with characters who could believably exist in this world. Realism will be a very important aspect of our short film, because whilst we are including surreal and ambiguous elements, we want the film to comment on the real world, and how real people interact. We will not be able to convey such a message unless the audience can conceivably relate the film to their own lives.
Another aspect that stood out to me on first viewing was that of the humour in the film. Despite its overly dark tone and tense atmosphere, Dead Man's Shoes contains some very funny moments, which help to break up the intensity of the plot in order to keep the audience just comfortable enough to continue watching. Many such moments contribute to the social realism of the piece, as real life is very rarely serious for extended periods of time. I feel that this kind of humour has almost become a trademark of British cinema, and a good example of it can be seen at 2:10 in the above clip, where we cut to a shot of the gang, squashed into the back of the car, debating what their leader is and should be doing.
Another illustration of this kind of humour can be found in the following clip from Guy Ritchie's Lock, Stock and Two Smocking Barrels from 1:00 onwards, where Vinnie Jones' character tells his son off for swearing, despite bringing him along in his day-to-day work as a loan shark. In this context, comedy is created because, whilst the sentiment of the father in not wanting his son to swear is realistic, the situation they are in at the time is not.
Whilst I personally like this kind of 'socially realistic' humour very much, I do not think it would work particularly well in our short film. The humour works well in Dead Man's Shoes because, as I mentioned earlier, it eases the intensity of the plot and balances with the dark tone. Our film, however, must be short. Therefore, if we were to include a similar comedy moment, it would form a much bigger portion of the overall piece, and would definitely interfere with our surreal, cerebral tone. If we are to include any such humour, it won't be anything significant enough to be described as a 'moment' as such, and could be something as simple as one character insulting another.
In summary, the directorial techniques which we will now consider are:
Apocalypto
Apocalypto is an action epic made by Mel Gibson in 2006, which focuses on the story of one Mayan villager during the civilisation's demise. Although our aims in making a short film are pretty much polar-opposite to those of Gibson in his high-budget feature, Gibson does utilise techniques that we could also find useful. In our pitch, I explained that an important feature of our film would be an internal monologue of the protagonist. Because this monologue will dominate the film, we won't be including a great amount of diegetic dialogue. However, one of the main messages we want our film to carry is that 'selflessness often goes unrecognised,' and the lucidity of this message obviously depends upon the minor characters' reactions to the protagonist. If we are to keep the amount of dialogue to a minimum, and also illustrate the minor characters' ignorance of the protagonist's actions, then we must be efficient in visual storytelling.
This is where Apocalypto is relevant. All of the speech is in the Yucatec Maya language, and without subtitles, viewers such as Tom and I, who are far from fluent in the language, have to watch the film more closely to understand it. Viewing a film in this way makes the role of visuals in the storytelling much more apparent.
The excerpt below illustrates this well; even if it is muted, and the subtitles are ignored, the scene still makes sense. A story is told through the physical actions of the actors, the type of shot that captures them, and the way these shots are edited together.
After watching the film with visual storytelling in mind, one thing that stood out to me was the abundance of eyeline matches. These are a staple in visual storytelling, because they exhibit the world of the film from a character's perspective, and provide justification for the way that character may act. Even if they are very short and subtle, they can convey important pieces of information. One example of a very subtle but important eyeline match can be seen at 2:54 in the video above; if it were not shown that the offering had been presented, then a factor of the negotiation between the two tribes would be lost, and the tribe of Jaguar Paw would seem much more easily persuaded. The fact that so much of the meaning of the scene would be changed by the omission of one shot illustrates the potency and importance of visual storytelling, and shows why it will be an important factor for Tom and I to consider during the production of our film.
Dead Man's Shoes is a gritty independent thriller about a disaffected soldier who returns to his home town in the British midlands to take revenge on those who caused the death of his brother. As a film directed by Shane Meadows working with Warp Films, it works to most of the conventions of the vigilante/revenge thriller genre, but is set in a small town in the British midlands. Whilst the location initially seems incongruous, the beauty of Meadows' directing is in the way he can ground even the weirdest and wildest of events in reality through his use of characterisation and dialogue, so that they don't seem incongruous at all.
This aspect of Meadow's films can be seen in the below excerpt of Dead Man's Shoes. From 0:50 onwards, we see Meadows' interpretation of a conventional 'character stand-off'. Although we have many of the conventions of such a scene from a an old Western movie; namely two enemies sizing one-another up in quite a lengthy sequence to create a great amount of tension, Meadows manages to depict something that is quintessentially British. The characters are made to fit into both their location and the situation at hand; they look moderately intimidating as a gang, appear realistically unprosperous in the car they use and the way they dress, and seem quite uneducated in the way they ineloquently converse. At the same time, the protagonist, with whom the leader of the gang talks, is very unnerving in his arrogance, but without breaking the bounds of what is credible for such a person in his position. (This is all very much related to the concept of semiotics, which I introduced here on my AS blog)
Essentially, Meadows keeps his films sharp and interesting by providing the audience with a certain amount of social realism. Realism helps to captivate people, because they feel more willing to empathise and associate themselves with characters who could believably exist in this world. Realism will be a very important aspect of our short film, because whilst we are including surreal and ambiguous elements, we want the film to comment on the real world, and how real people interact. We will not be able to convey such a message unless the audience can conceivably relate the film to their own lives.
Another aspect that stood out to me on first viewing was that of the humour in the film. Despite its overly dark tone and tense atmosphere, Dead Man's Shoes contains some very funny moments, which help to break up the intensity of the plot in order to keep the audience just comfortable enough to continue watching. Many such moments contribute to the social realism of the piece, as real life is very rarely serious for extended periods of time. I feel that this kind of humour has almost become a trademark of British cinema, and a good example of it can be seen at 2:10 in the above clip, where we cut to a shot of the gang, squashed into the back of the car, debating what their leader is and should be doing.
Another illustration of this kind of humour can be found in the following clip from Guy Ritchie's Lock, Stock and Two Smocking Barrels from 1:00 onwards, where Vinnie Jones' character tells his son off for swearing, despite bringing him along in his day-to-day work as a loan shark. In this context, comedy is created because, whilst the sentiment of the father in not wanting his son to swear is realistic, the situation they are in at the time is not.
Whilst I personally like this kind of 'socially realistic' humour very much, I do not think it would work particularly well in our short film. The humour works well in Dead Man's Shoes because, as I mentioned earlier, it eases the intensity of the plot and balances with the dark tone. Our film, however, must be short. Therefore, if we were to include a similar comedy moment, it would form a much bigger portion of the overall piece, and would definitely interfere with our surreal, cerebral tone. If we are to include any such humour, it won't be anything significant enough to be described as a 'moment' as such, and could be something as simple as one character insulting another.
In summary, the directorial techniques which we will now consider are:
- Visual storytelling - use of eyeline matches and other such shots to convey information with minimum dialogue.
- Social realism - use of mise-en-scene, costume, location and characterisation to add a sense of realism and captivate the audience.
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
Choosing a Brief
Before the summer holidays, we were provided with a sheet of paper listing the various briefs we could undertake as our A2 production projects. Two immediately stood out, one involving the production of a music video and various other promotional materials for a band, and the other focusing on the production of a short film, along with some promotional materials linked to the film. Obviously, I cannot undertake both briefs, and I cannot mix or combine them in any way, so a decision must be made.
Music videos differ from other television and film products, because they can exist without a conventionally structured narrative. In the same way that music and lyrics doesn't have to tell a story to be classed as a song, music videos don't have to contain a conventionally structured narrative to be classed as music videos. By my definition, a basic narrative is a number of events, connected in some way, which function together to develop an idea. For me, it is the process of 'functioning together to develop an idea' that is most important to the definition, as it prevents connected events that make no alteration to an idea from being classed as a narrative. Almost all music videos contain this kind of narrative, but many still can't be said to contain a conventionally structured narrative, which I define as follows: a number of events, connected by character, location, or action, which function together in a lucid, logical way, usually with some kind of chronological ordering, to develop an idea.
This video for Spiralling by Keane, for example, can be seen to contain a very basic narrative: there is a man sat in a chair watching some screens, there are marching robots, there is what seems to be a robotic woman also watching some screens, and at the end we are shown that the man bears resemblance to one of the marching robots. This is certainly a narrative, because from the contingency of the described events and the lyrics of the song, we can derive the message that modern life is confusing in its endless representations of representations. It seems to suggest that we turn ourselves into robot-like beings by consuming artifices as opposed to the experiences of 'real life'. The video does not, however, contain a conventionally structured narrative; it doesn't establish a sense of time and location, and whilst the events are connected in some ways (the presence of the screens), they don't function together in the same lucid, logical way that a television drama or blockbuster film does. Music videos generally connote basic messages and emotions through distinctive cinematography that works in conjunction with the music.The video below for Ulysses by Franz Ferdinand can be seen as another clear example of this trend.
So it is clear that there is a void between the material found in music videos, and that found in other media for film and television. It is within this void that the short film establishes itself. Generally, short films have a somewhat conventionally structured narrative, but because of their limited running time, they rely heavily on distinctive cinematography, and sometimes distinctive music and sound, to connote messages and emotions that enhance the basic story.
Spider from Qoob TV on Vimeo.
The short film above, Spider by Nash Edgerton, is similar to television and film media as it has a conventional narrative that is structured chronologically. At the same time, there are many differences. Most strikingly, the events of the film, up until the last few moments, occur in real time, and yet they convey a story and a message that is a lot deeper. Also, the vast majority of the shots used are very intimate; being close in proximity to one character or another, and usually focusing on their facial expressions or the small actions they perform. There is no obvious non-diegetic sound in the film either; in moments without dialogue, viewers are left to listen to the sounds of passing traffic. Overall, these techniques give the viewer the feeling that they are also sat in the car with the characters, unseen and unnoticed, but able to watch and speculate in tension.
The film below, Strangers by Erez Tadmor & Guy Nattiv, whilst taking itself slightly more seriously than Spider, exhibits a very similar style of intimate cinematography, but is more overt with its use of sound. Whilst short films do contain a conventionally structured narrative, it is worth noting that it is still a very basic narrative; as a rule, short films revolve around a simple but distinct idea, and explore it with a small number of characters and without a great deal of dialogue. Both of the short films shown here can be seen to abide by this rule.
Considering the respective factors of each medium, I think that I would prefer to work on a short film rather than a music video, because it seems less restricting in terms of content, with more freedom to create. The official specification for this brief is as follows:
10. A short film in its entirety, lasting approximately five minutes, which may be live action or animated or a combination of both, together with two of the following three options:
Music videos differ from other television and film products, because they can exist without a conventionally structured narrative. In the same way that music and lyrics doesn't have to tell a story to be classed as a song, music videos don't have to contain a conventionally structured narrative to be classed as music videos. By my definition, a basic narrative is a number of events, connected in some way, which function together to develop an idea. For me, it is the process of 'functioning together to develop an idea' that is most important to the definition, as it prevents connected events that make no alteration to an idea from being classed as a narrative. Almost all music videos contain this kind of narrative, but many still can't be said to contain a conventionally structured narrative, which I define as follows: a number of events, connected by character, location, or action, which function together in a lucid, logical way, usually with some kind of chronological ordering, to develop an idea.
This video for Spiralling by Keane, for example, can be seen to contain a very basic narrative: there is a man sat in a chair watching some screens, there are marching robots, there is what seems to be a robotic woman also watching some screens, and at the end we are shown that the man bears resemblance to one of the marching robots. This is certainly a narrative, because from the contingency of the described events and the lyrics of the song, we can derive the message that modern life is confusing in its endless representations of representations. It seems to suggest that we turn ourselves into robot-like beings by consuming artifices as opposed to the experiences of 'real life'. The video does not, however, contain a conventionally structured narrative; it doesn't establish a sense of time and location, and whilst the events are connected in some ways (the presence of the screens), they don't function together in the same lucid, logical way that a television drama or blockbuster film does. Music videos generally connote basic messages and emotions through distinctive cinematography that works in conjunction with the music.The video below for Ulysses by Franz Ferdinand can be seen as another clear example of this trend.
So it is clear that there is a void between the material found in music videos, and that found in other media for film and television. It is within this void that the short film establishes itself. Generally, short films have a somewhat conventionally structured narrative, but because of their limited running time, they rely heavily on distinctive cinematography, and sometimes distinctive music and sound, to connote messages and emotions that enhance the basic story.
Spider from Qoob TV on Vimeo.
The short film above, Spider by Nash Edgerton, is similar to television and film media as it has a conventional narrative that is structured chronologically. At the same time, there are many differences. Most strikingly, the events of the film, up until the last few moments, occur in real time, and yet they convey a story and a message that is a lot deeper. Also, the vast majority of the shots used are very intimate; being close in proximity to one character or another, and usually focusing on their facial expressions or the small actions they perform. There is no obvious non-diegetic sound in the film either; in moments without dialogue, viewers are left to listen to the sounds of passing traffic. Overall, these techniques give the viewer the feeling that they are also sat in the car with the characters, unseen and unnoticed, but able to watch and speculate in tension.
The film below, Strangers by Erez Tadmor & Guy Nattiv, whilst taking itself slightly more seriously than Spider, exhibits a very similar style of intimate cinematography, but is more overt with its use of sound. Whilst short films do contain a conventionally structured narrative, it is worth noting that it is still a very basic narrative; as a rule, short films revolve around a simple but distinct idea, and explore it with a small number of characters and without a great deal of dialogue. Both of the short films shown here can be seen to abide by this rule.
Considering the respective factors of each medium, I think that I would prefer to work on a short film rather than a music video, because it seems less restricting in terms of content, with more freedom to create. The official specification for this brief is as follows:
10. A short film in its entirety, lasting approximately five minutes, which may be live action or animated or a combination of both, together with two of the following three options:
- a poster for the film;
- a radio trailer for the film;
- a film magazine review page featuring the film.
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