Film_Analysis

Core Concepts of Film Analysis Student Name Professor Name School Name Date “ What is drama, after all, but life with the dull bits cut out'”- Alfred Hitchcock The art of storytelling has been a central component of human culture for the entire history of human existence. For millennia, stories, legends and fables were passed down orally from one generation to the next. These stories carried the weight of their respective cultures with them; it is how culture itself was passed along and kept alive. These legends and mythologies functioned on multiple levels; the plot and characters served as vessels for the underlying meaning of the story. The manner in which stories have been told has changed with advancements in technology, from the written word all the way up to the relatively new medium of film. Filmmakers can now bring to bear virtually any thematic and visual elements conceivable, but the basic functions of good storytelling remain the same as the earliest mythologies. Put simply, the act of examining and analyzing the elements that comprise a film allow us to better understand the underlying meaning of that film. At the root of most films is the central plot, the surface story. Some films seem not to have much “meaning,” in the sense that they may be simple, direct stories with familiar plotlines and narrative devices. We have seen untold numbers of “boy meets girl” films; those plotlines are as old as time. Still, even the simplest of stories carry an underlying meaning, in that they reinforce or transmit basic components of our culture, affirming social mores and offering the comfort of the familiar. In other cases, the plot of a film may be convoluted and inscrutable, requiring intense concentration or even multiple viewings for the meaning to become clear. In some cases, the plot may intentionally be left open to interpretation, allowing each viewer to discover his or her own “meaning”(Bellour & Penley, 2000) By way of punctuating the underlying universality of certain storylines, it is notable that many films are visual retellings of fables and legends. Decades ago, Walt Disney released “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves” and “Cinderella” as animated feature films, while contemporary director Ridley Scott offered up his take on the legend of Robin Hood in 2010. In contrast, many directors utilize narrative devices that offer a certain “flexibility;” the plot is not neatly wrapped and boxed, but instead has loose ends and diverging threads that allow –or even force- the viewer to come to his or her own conclusions about the film’s meaning (Bellour & Penley, 2000) One of the greatest examples of such a plot is Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. This film was seminal in several ways, not the least of which was for the advancements in special effects that virtually birthed the genre of science-fiction films. While there were countless thousands of science-fiction films before 2001, the combination of visual imagery and rich storytelling in that film was hugely influential to the next generation of movie-makers. The ripple effect of Kubrick’s achievement is still felt today as advancements in special effects now allow directors to place on the screen virtually any image conceivable (Ciment, Adair, & Bononno, 1980) As significant as Kubrick’s special-effects work was, those effects were merely tools used to help convey the film’s meaning. The storyline of 2001 was intentionally open-ended; though it seemed clear that mankind had stumbled upon evidence of extra-terrestrial intelligence, the viewer was not bludgeoned with this conclusion (Ciment, Adair & Bononno, 1980). Films such as these can offer a richly rewarding experience for the viewer willing to invest the time and thought in the experience, bringing something of themselves to the act of understanding the film. In that sense, films may often “mean” something very different from one viewer to the next. The idea of leaving a film’s plotline –and its meaning- open to interpretation is, naturally, still prevalent today. The contemporary film Inception, well-received by both critics and audience, has a thought-provoking (and, on occasion, argument-provoking) storyline, with a “resolution” that intentionally does not resolve the storyline in typical fashion. Taking place largely in the world of dreams, it is often unclear to the viewer when the on-screen action is “real” and when it is set in a dream; this lack of clarity continues to the final frame of the film. Despite this lack of clarity, the film has apparently satisfied a legion of viewers, affording the opportunity for debate and discussion over the film’s ultimate meaning. From simple retellings of ancient fables to contemporary stories involving technology and other signposts of modernity, a film’s story conveys much of its meaning. Just as the best fables and legends offered a multiplicity of meanings on numerous levels, so too do the best movies carry a film’s underlying meaning along with the story that appears on the surface. Even the simplest retellings of centuries-old fables, such as Disney’s Snow White, have an inherent subtext, an underlying collection of messages and meaning that go beyond the confines of the relatively simple plot. Tales of damsels in distress and valorous princes and snow-white virginity are timeless, as old as mankind itself. In some ways, these stories are (or at least can be) as “important” as any “important” film, in the sense that they serve the same function as they always have: they tell us something about who we are and where we come from. We tell these stories to our children, despite the fact that they often contain images of death and terror along with the tales of love and chivalry. From the convoluted dreamscapes of Inception to the Disney retellings of Snow White and Cinderella, a film’s plot helps convey much of its meaning. Good filmmaking incorporates the universal tropes of storytelling, from action to comedy, from conflict to resolution. Good films generally either leave out unnecessary details or potentially distracting elements in favor of moving the story along or occasionally include “red herrings,” (the use of intentional misdirection intended to keep an audience from figuring out the plot too early). At the end of the day, a good story, an interesting story, is what makes a film “worth watching” (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). In an historical context, the medium of film is relatively new; what we think of as typical in film (color images with sound) is really only a few decades old, with the entire history of film spanning little more than a century. The invention of “motion pictures,” as they were often referred to initially, allowed a storyteller to utilize visual imagery in previously unseen ways. It is this melding of visual imagery with storytelling that makes the medium of film so unique, and also what has made it so popular. The incorporation of visual imagery brought an unimaginable level of “reality” to the art of storytelling –as the saying goes, seeing is believing,. A century ago, scenes of a locomotive train headed towards the camera caused viewers to flee the theater for fear of being run over. In the 1970s, the shark attacks in Jaws made a generation of viewers more fearful of the ocean. The recent film 127 Hours, which tells the story of a trapped hiker forced to amputate his own arm to free himself, has reportedly caused some viewers to become physically ill. As a means of conveying information, and transmitting meaning, visual imagery is incredibly powerful. Every image in a film is chosen by a director to help convey some sort of message. The way a set is decorated, the way a character is dressed, the way something flies or explodes or disappears, all of these elements carry meanings and subtext. The virtual tabula rasa of the “monolith” in 2001 is the literal “blank slate” upon which the viewer can script his own interpretation. In other contexts, directors choose images to hint at an element of the story, or to represent a specific concept, or to warn the viewer of dangers that lie in wait for the film’s characters. How visual elements are arranged in a film is know as “composition;” it is a film’s composition that serves as a framework for the visual elements, placing them in context to the characters and to each other. Just as the paintings of the great masters rely on the composition of visual elements to convey meaning, the same is true for film. Everything the viewer sees on the screen is there for a reason. From literal signs that tell the viewer where a character is and what he is doing to figurative signs that represent an element of a main character’s psychological makeup, the elements of a composition are vessels that, along with the plot, carry a film’s meaning to the viewer. Perhaps the most iconic of film images (along with Nosferatu’s vampire, Jaws’ shark, and 2001’s monolith) is “Rosebud.” In the Orson Welles classic Citizen Kane, the word “rosebud” appears as a repeated motif, culminating in the actual image of “Rosebud,” which turns out to have been the sled that belonged to the main character in his childhood. Welles uses this motif for several functions; it ties elements of the narrative together as it is heard throughout the film, while the visual image of “Rosebud” serves to represent the inner longings and desires of the film’s titular character (Kinn & Piazza, 2008) Effective use of imagery is a crucial component of good filmmaking. Authors Boggs and Petrie, in the book The Art of Watching Film, describe three primary “worlds” in which films may be set. They are “the way things are, “the way things are supposed to be,” and “the way things never were and never will be” (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). The use of effective visual imagery can help make any of these worlds believable, or perhaps more accurately, will increase the willingness of the viewer to suspend disbelief for the duration of the film. They cite Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings as an example: while there is nothing “real” in the entire trilogy, Jackson effectively created a “believable” setting for the story largely through the use of visual imagery, taking the audience on a journey to Middle Earth for a few hours (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). As noted, it is the marriage of visual imagery and storytelling that makes films so potentially rewarding. Underlying the elements of composition, imagery, and plot, lays a film’s theme. In The Art of Watching Film, the authors present the following quote: Movies are about things—even bad movies are about things. Rambo III is about something. It has a theme, even if it doesn’t want to have a theme. . . . You have to know in some way what you are about to do. Even if that theme gets rerouted or ends up in subtext, somehow there has to be some sense of why you are doing this. —Paul Schrader, Director and Screenwriter (Boggs & Petrie, 2008) Put simply, then, a film’s “theme” is defined simply as “what the film is about.” It “refers to the unifying central concern of the film” (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). Director Sydney Lumet points out that a film’s theme determines every aspect of its creation, from the casting to the editing to the choice of sets and music and wardrobe (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). A filmmaker may choose to focus on one or more of the core elements of Plot; Emotional Effect or Mood; Character, Style, Texture, or Structure; or Ideas (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). Typically, one of these elements is predominant, with the other elements present but subordinate to the primary element. Examining films through this perspective allows the viewer to analyze any film, from blockbuster special-effects extravaganzas to muted character studies (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). Action-adventure movies typically focus on plot, or “what happens.” Horror movies may seek to establish a mood (in this case, fear). Some films, often referred to as “character studies,” are less concerned with plot in favor of clearly fleshing out the details that make up the main character. There are films that don’t fit into typical conventions, where the style of the film itself is the central focus; such films often lack mass appeal. Finally, there are films where the theme itself is the focus, where the “idea” behind the film takes center stage. Generally speaking, though, the theme of a film is presented in a more understated fashion, and it is up to the viewer to decide for him or herself what, exactly, the theme is (Boggs & Petrie, 2008) There are any number of themes on which a film may rest. A film may have a moral message, it may concern itself with social problems and issues, it may focus on an aspect of human nature or human interactions, or it may examine the main characters’ “coming of age” (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). These are just examples; there is, of course, an array of themes upon which a film may be based. As a means of analyzing a film, identifying its theme is often a helpful first step (Boggs & Petrie, 2008). It is obviously not necessary to analyze a film in order to enjoy it. The majority of moviegoers likely do not spend an inordinate amount of time analyzing every film they see. The so-called “popcorn movies” and “summer blockbusters” that typically generate the largest box office returns are not necessarily made richer through analysis of their themes and structures and plots and characters. Quite the opposite, actually: in many cases, rigorous scrutiny of such films will often reveal their shortcomings rather than their strengths. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as there is certainly an argument to be made in favor of occasionally suspending disbelief simply to enjoy oneself. To the degree that enjoying the occasional bout of mindless entertainment is a part of human nature, such films, in their way, are no less the “cultural vessels” than so-called “important” films. Films such as Raging Bull or The Remains of the Day may tell us something about people and the relationships between them, and in so doing, tell us something about ourselves. The success of films such as Porky’s or American Pie tells us something about ourselves as well; the fact they generate huge revenues offers just as much insight into human nature as the most “serious” character study. I tend to enjoy a wide array of films, depending on my mood at the time. While I enjoyed James Cameron’s Avatar tremendously, I also adore To Kill A Mockingbird, which is perhaps the best adaptation of literature to film in the entire history of the cinematic arts. I don’t have any hard and fast rules about the criteria on which I judge a film; quite the opposite, actually. I endeavor to remain as open to new ideas as possible, so as to avoid placing restrictions or limitations on what types of films I will watch (or more importantly, enjoy). Though I have been a “movie buff” for as long as I can remember, this course and the subsequent study involved have helped to (pardon the pun) put into focus many things I already understood on a more instinctual level. Having a deeper understanding of films, and the requisite information to properly analyze them, is a double-edged sword. There are times where I can not suspend disbelief, as I get too distracted by an element of the film to immerse myself in the story. It could be anything: a casting choice with which I disagree, an element of the setting that seems out of place or a hole in the storyline that is simply too great to ignore. On the other hand, the distractions may not necessarily be “negative” ones; I may be so riveted by a strong acting performance that I miss out on a key plot detail, or vice versa. Or I may simply find myself drifting towards an analysis as I am viewing the film. The best films –or at least the ones that I seem to enjoy the most- are films that allow me to suspend my disbelief while watching them, and go on to provoke a desire to analyze them after viewing them. The aforementioned To Kill A Mockingbird is a perfect example: as a child, I enjoyed the simple, elemental story. As I grew a bit older, I began to better understand the underlying themes of racism and the complexities of human interaction. Armed with the type of information presented in this course, I found a repeated viewing to be even more rewarding, as I found myself thinking about the adaptation of the book to the movie and the context in which the original story was written. I suspect additional viewings will continue to yield additional insights. While any thorough discussion of film analysis can, and has, filled many books, there are some basic, elemental concepts at the core of film analysis. Understanding how a filmmaker uses the tools of the craft allows us to better understand the meaning and message of a film. Bibliography Bellour, R, & Penley, C. (2000). The analysis of film. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. Boggs, J, & Petrie, D. (2008). The art of watching film. Published in the United States of America: The McGraw Hill Companies, inc. Ciment, M, Adair, G, & Bononno, R. (1980). Stanley kubrick: the definitive edition. New York, NY: Faber & Faber Inc. Kinn, G, & Piazza, J. (2008). The greatest films ever:the ultimate ranked list of the 101 best films of all time. New York, NY: Black Dog & Leventhal Publishers, inc.