Showing posts with label film. Show all posts
Showing posts with label film. Show all posts

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

The Devils

(Ken Russell, 1971)
IMDB

Based on a true story, The Devils presents  imagery that is difficult and offensive. It presents a very stylised view of France in the 1700's, with looming white architecture, smooth and clinical. It illustrates the old fashioned device of chaos within the hierarchy, by presenting a threat to someone high up, in this case accusing a deeply catholic character of being the devil. It's a very interesting story, particularly now, as it resonates with the current media “trend” that seems to be the paedophilia witch hunt that is so present in today's news. 

8 ½

Federico Fellini, 1963.
IMDB


The narrative is essentially about a blocked film director in his struggle for creativity, it blurs the lines between reality, inner turmoil and fantasy, with chaos being the fundamental base for the storyline. It is set in black and white and intentionally dubbed, with intentionally peculiar characters. People within the cast have evidently been selected specifically for their odd looks. There is a sense of claustrophobia and being trapped; anxiety. The lines between truth, love and age are blurred, mixed with fantasy and presented in a very theatrical way, much like a circus. The soundtrack sounds particularly familiar (to a modern audience).


Eraserhead

(David Lynch, 1977)
IMDB

The dystopian, nightmare of inner self, showing what many believe to be the protagonist's inner turmoil. Atmosphere is created effectively via lighting and really well considered composition; every frame could be a photograph. Strong use of shadowing and light to create harsh surroundings and nightmare-like imagery.

Hairspray

(John Waters, 1988)
IMDB

Classically kitsch and very much “John Waters”, everybody knows the story of Hairspray. It was retro, even in the eighties, and very much bad taste design-wise, but in such a way that, you're very away that it's trying to be trash. Everything within the design is very OTT, similar to a pantomime style, in that it's overtly obvious. It uses this image as a device of raising serious issues like race and sexuality, but does it in a very tongue in cheek way.

One From The Heart

(Francis Ford Coppola, 1982)

One From The Heart is very much a designers film. All of it's sets were custom built indoors with only one small scene being actually filmed in the open air. Set in Las Vegas, it places both of the main characters amid their idealist fantasies of romance, only for them to discover that their ideology of their dream partner is as fake and constructed as the set in which the whole thing occurs. As each character slumps back to their normality (being together as a couple for whom the romance has disappeared) it feels tragically poetic.

Carmen

(Carlos Saura, 1983)
IMDB

“Love is terrible and jealousy is treacherous”.
A flamenco twist on “the world's most famous opera,” Carmen is set within a Spanish flamenco school, much like a mirror within a mirror. The lighting, which is very theatrical, plays a key part in that, in some scenes it's poor so that it may accentuate the bags under the women's eyes, or in other cases, too harsh, so as to blur the features of the characters' faces. In the scene where two performers dance with canes, their shadows cast against the plain white walls, there is a really nice dynamic between their movement and the representation of their shadows, which on occasion move separately from the figures casting them.

Walk The Line

(James Mangold, 2005)

The establishing shot is from a Californian prison watch tower, (later determined to be Folsom) set in 1968. In the foreground, crows pick at scraps. The pace then quickly changes and follows the beat of the music as it rapidly passes by the bars of the cells, as feet rush in the same direction. Hands clap and feet stomp in time to the beat, creating a heartbeat-like frenzy of sound and movement.

Memphis, Tennesse, 1955. The Rock & Roll recording studio that emotes the complete opposite of a Rock & Roll atmosphere; boring and dull. Off-white walls, white blinds and grey furnishings. The three performers each dressed in black suits with their brown instruments. Contrasting hugely to this is the later scene, set in Texas, 1955. The music tour emotes colour and noise, liveliness and free-spirit. Cash's band now each donning white suits and slick dark hair. The diner is typically fifties Americana, with wood panelled walls and units painted opel green. The surfaces are polished and bright white, contrasting with the brown wooden wall shelves. The walls are embellished with a variety of mismatched picture frames and the curtains are typically red and white checked, hung above and below the windows. The table tops match the polished white surface of the counter, at which June Carter (Reese Witherspoon) sits in her very feminine, red and white flower dress, dark hair and cherry red lips.

Koyaanisqatsi

(Godfrey Reggio, 1982.)

Koyaanisqatsi, literally translated as “life out of balance”, is a collection of videos that represent moving image as art. It's an innovative, personal journey documenting time passing via various environmental, industrial and human actions. It's an epic and poetic journey through footage that speaks volumes without any actual dialogue; just the moving image choreographed to the soundtrack composed by Phillip Glass. It's systematic and repetitive music that changes very slightly according to the mood emoted by the visuals.

The initial piece of film we see is footage of slow-motion debris falling, although at first it's not entirely clear what we're looking at. As it slowly widens, it becomes distinct that it's the base of a rocket launch; the scale of which, I personally find quite threatening. In a complete change from this, the footage changes to a largely environmental scene, a wide pan across a landscape of rocks and boulders. Footage of clouds passing over the landscape, casting shadows and creating formations, is sped up to the point of darkness falling. Footage is also shot from in and above the level of the clouds, drawing attention to the movement and formation of such natural occurrences. There's imagery of clouds spilling around mountains and valleys, like water being poured. POV footage takes us through the sky, looking down on the varying landscapes below, showing the audience a different way of viewing nature. It pans across fields of rich colours; blues, purples, reds and yellows. It draws attention the perfection of natural reflections as well as the fluidity in the movement of unaltered/ untouched conditions, like the rolling of waves or the dissipating of clouds and mist.

The next section seems to focus on beauty in unexpected places, man-made surroundings. This is accompanied by big, looming music. The footage goes through a series of heavy machinery, dense black smoke engulfing the screen, implosions, explosions, stills of power lines, long leading lines of pipework; beauty amongst an engineered environment or within destruction. Similarly, the visual features offered by the imagery of war are equally hypnotic and strangely beautiful. Imagery of missiles falling in slow motion, sailing through the sky like birds. Or the POV of a fighter jet flying through the air. Rows of tanks, guns cocked upwards. The space capsule detaching. An atomic bomb detonating. All of the aforementioned are threatening, scary occurrences that, when placed within such a forceful rhythm of film and to such a strong sound, are weirdly mesmerizing.

The next phase of film is heavily centred around a cityscape; overcrowded, busy, dense and relentless. Full car-parks, planes taxiing amid the haze of water vapour, cars filtering in towards the city- bathed in the shadows of skyscrapers. Night footage of tall buildings with lights flickering on and off like parts of a circuit board. High speed, long exposure footage of cars passing through the city, creating lines of light. Aerial shots of cars moving through the labyrinth of roads. The full moon passing behind the silhouetted skyline. The vastness of the cityscape is shown in daylight via a long shot, interrupted by the lens glare of the sun reflecting off of the huge amount of glass and metalwork.


The whole thing feels like feels like a real visual feast, overpowering and stimulating the senses in a completely unique (at the time) and beautiful way.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

(Richard O'Brien, 1975)
IMDB

RHPS started life in the Royal Court Theatre, in 1973, as a “fifties U.S. Cinematic experience”, where the cast of the theatrical performance would act as ushers and interact with the audience. The film was not initially a hit, in fact, it achieved it's cult status via VHS home invasion. It is largely a tribute to early sci-fi and hammer horror B-movies and is very much a British art college film, playing on shock value. In this sense, it aimed to be “everything your parents hate”, very alternative and underground, breaking convention. By the time of it's cinema release, fans of the stage show felt it was dated. In the eighties it was revived as a stage show in the US before the idea was sold back to the UK, where it had originated. Following this it has since become an industry in it's own right as well as something of a modern classic. The film was made in the UK and feels very British, I think.

The film offers a gritty realism in a pantomime sort of way, with levels of design never seen before. Set within a Berkshire country house (with a very “crystal maze” looking dome roof!), the interior varies from gothic to futuristic. The Lab set is sanitized, white-tiled and shiny with red embellishments. I really like the theatre space, with striped red deck chair audience seating, red and gold rope dividers and the classic red velvet curtains; it's very British and nostalgic/ classic amid such an odd array of things going on within the film.

Wednesday, 5 June 2013

New York, New York

(Martin Scorsese, 1977)
IMDB

New York, New York, is Scorsese's typical Hollywood telling of a love-hate relationship. As a director, Scorsese is fantastic at telling a story or opinion that is unpopular, which is probably why, at times, the film is quite difficult to watch- even to a modern de-sensitized audience. He makes us feel a real feeling of danger and threat between the two explosive forces of De Niro and Minnelli; really distressing us, as viewers, as we practically watch domestic abuse.

The design features heavy use of painted scenery and back-cloths as well as vulgar clashes of colours within the jazz clubs (purple and yellow), adding I suppose to the uncomfortable watch that the story had already established.

Sweet Charity

(Bob Fosse, 1969)
IMDB

Directed and choreographed by Bob Fosse, every movement within the film has a certain fluidity to it; a sexual and syncopated feel that hadn't really been seen before. The film itself, revolving round Charity, a dancer at a strip club, is an example of Fosse tackling a seedy/ gritty subject, via movement and theatricality. Within the strip club, the décor is tacky and feels very uncomfortable, with cheap gold embellishments adorning the space. During “Hey Big Spender” the women roll their shoulders and hips in a way that suggests sexuality, but at the same time feels quite sanitized. The women stand in a line, all fixed against a horizontal bar in various poses. Some lean against it, whilst others drape legs or arms across it, much like puppets I think. The women's movements are superimposed upon each other The transitions between scenes feel very dated, done via grainy still frames.

In a stark contrast to the aforementioned strip joint, there is The Pompeii Club, filled with tall, statuesque, model men and women. Figures are silhouetted in black amongst a set of columns, candles and marble floors. The scene screams sixties class, in that massively desirable but overtly pretentious kind of way. A cheetah sits in a cage and moving pictures are projected onto the walls. The only colour really present is the selection of feather wigs that the female dancers wear. Everyone otherwise wears black; black sequins, black feathers, white silk gloves and diamonds. The dancers perform three acts; The Aloof, The Heavyweight and The Big Finish, all the while surrounded by an elegant audience of people not watching, but instead contributing to the atmosphere by just being sexy, mysterious and statuesque themselves. Each dance is, of course, accompanied by the obligatory “sixties head-bobbing” movement. During the three acts, the mood is changed by the colour of the main wall behind the stage area. Blue during The Aloof, red during The Heavyweight and amber during The Big Finish.

Thursday, 5 July 2012


An Education
(Lone Scherfig, 2009)
IMDB
Set in 1961, in a middle-class London suburb we see a montage of girls practising etiquette, dancing, cooking and sport. The girls sit in a high-ceiling school room, with large windows through which they stare longingly. Jenny is a mousey, A+ student bound for Oxford. She dresses in browns and greens and lives by her Father's rules and ambitions for her. Her home is nice but dowdy, pale blues and patterned curtains.
A charming older man enters Jenny's life in a classic, maroon Bristol. He offers her excitement and colour, takes her to luxurious places and buys her quality gifts. Jenny is cultured above her age and enjoys fine music. David takes her to the theatre which is so extremely different from her pale, home life. The interior is decorated with luxurious golds and reds. They drink from crystal glasses and the singer stands amongst red velvet drapes, wearing a sequinned fish-tail dress.
David's friend lives in luxury, his apartment is furnished with white sofas, classic upholstered chairs, dark wood furniture and crystal ornaments and collectables. The exterior architecture is white, art deco style.
In France, Jenny lives like she has always desired. They dance in the street, browse book stalls of French literature and drink wine on the riverside. Paris is much brighter than home, so much more colour. Jenny dresses glamorously, with big sunglasses. She walks on the wall of the riverbank, high heels in hand.

Saturday, 28 January 2012


Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans
(F.W. Murnau, 1927)

This film was one of the first to feature an abstract and surreal montage sequence as a way of storytelling. It used a combination of models, live action, photographs, animation and clever editing to create this madness of the city, the place for which a 1920's vamp is trying to tempt a married countryman to. The overlaying of imagery as well as the combination of two different pieces of music, creates a wild and almost hysterical short sequence.
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
(Robert Weine, 1920)
Following the strange tale of a somnambulist who performs at fairs and around whom a strange series of murders occur. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a landscape of expressionism, complete with wonky and jagged sets, presented in a very theatrical way. The set for the fair, for example, could easily be a physical theatre stage, complete with it's own painted frame (like curtains) and it's canvas backgrounds.
The buildings in the foreground, as well as in the canvas background, appear very abstract, similarly in a way that much of the furniture featured in the film is highly impractical and stylised.
For the actual representation of murder, in true horror style, we see the actual act unfold as an exaggerated and stretched shadow against a wall. The film is widely considered to be one of the greatest silent-horrors ever made and the twist ending is said to be the first of it's kind. It's evident nowadays that director, Tim Burton, has likely taken heavy influence from Weine (though he denies knowing of the films existence until recent years!).

Friday, 13 January 2012


Big Fish
(Tim Burton, 2003)
The story of Edward Bloom, now an eccentric old man whose, once amazing, stories of his exaggerated life now become the source of unrest between him and his son, who has outgrown the fantasies and longs to know the plain truths. The film is constantly back and forth between “today” and Edward's exaggerated past.

A typically Tim Burton scene is the scene in which young Edward Bloom takes the old, haunted road out of town. As you would expect, the trees tower over the dark, damp path, casting dark, crooked shadows across the dirt track. The screen is engulfed by winding, intertwined branches of deep browns and thick cobwebs. At the end of the track lies the town of Spectre, a town so perfect that “no one ever leaves”.

Spectre is like a suburb within the American south, wooden houses of pale grey, with their wooden porches. The road is a perfect green carpet of grass, inviting and fresh; so green in fact that it's almost overpowering. It is perfectly linear and the town's white church lies right at the end of the grass road, perfectly centred.

In the evening, Spectre appears equally inviting and visually warm. With warm white fairy lights draped between buildings, creating a blanket of lights above the dancing town's people. All the women dancing in long flowing cream and pastel dresses, all with equally flowing long hair. The ribbons in their hair providing the perfect finish to these “perfect” people in this perfect town. The whole town is so intense that it's almost scary, the spinning camera shot during the dancing sequence only seems to heighten the madness.

When Edward returns to Spectre, as an older man, the magic seems to have faded and the place has decayed. The whole town is dull and shut down. The wood, dull and decaying and the houses completely overtaken by weeds and ivy. Jenny's house particularly, lies at the end of the town, slanted and wonky, (very Tim Burton) the house completely claimed by vines.

Gimme Shelter
(Maysles Bros, 1970)
IMDB

A supposedly “cinema verite” account of The Rolling Stones' 1969 performace at the free Altamont concert, this rockumentary documents an event, widely acknowledged in the music world as “The end of the 60's”.

The feature-length documentary starts with The Stones being introduced as “the greatest rock and roll band in the world” and in the lead up to the Altamont concert footage, this is what we're influenced to believe. Jagger shown, almost as a god, provocatively parading himself in front of the thousands of screaming fans, amongst which the camera is often placed. With lots of low shots from the crowd, showing Jagger towering over us, most importantly at this point- in total control of the crowd, something that later he certainly doesn't have.

The film, released in 1970, a year after the events at Altamont, is shown being played to the band, as if they are watching with us and trying to recount the events. We see them react to things that they have already experienced first hand, but their presence guides us through the film, manipulating us to kind of feel on their side, as opposed to the Hell's Angels, who were hired as security for the event and seemingly sparked most of the trouble there.

In my favourite scene, we are shown a heavily edited performance of “Love in vain”, in which Jagger is shown superimposed upon himself several times. The use of slow motion highlights his complete and utter power as the ultimate rock icon of the time. There are lots of indulgent shots of Jagger dancing and performing, throughout which the crowd remain totally transfixed.

The sequence is completely red too, a colour that emotes a lot of different possible meanings; those of lust, danger and even the devil. Appropriately too, during performances of “Sympathy for the devil”, Jagger throws red confetti. Ironically later at the concert, it is during this song that he makes an appeal to the crowd to behave and sit down, going completely against the attitudes and behaviour that the song is promoting.

The phrase “cinema verite”, literally translated means cinema truth. During the entirity of this film, we are manipulated into believing this perfect dramatic narrative so that, like a work of fiction, the tension builds bit by bit and then explodes into an exciting and dramatic finish. While the events that we see on screen did happen, the order in which they appear is altered for dramatic build-up.
The only cinema truth in this film, as far as I'm aware, is the scene in which the band and there entourage are draped around a room listening to the playback of “wild horses”. A moment in this sequence that, to me, screams true rockstar quality, is the shot of Keith Richard's worn snake skin boot tapping along to the music. There's something about that moment that I just love.

Wednesday, 4 January 2012


Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street
(Tim Burton, 2007)
IMDB

Based on the Broadway musical, this is Tim Burton's adaptation of the age old tale of Sweeney Todd. Immediately, the film is recognisably Burton, with the obvious casting of Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham-Carter.

The film starts off with mechanical, silhouetted imagery. Everything appears through a dark filter, as if to accentuate the dirt and darkness of life in Victorian London. Todd's (Depp) face appears ghostly light, grey amongst the blacks and blues of the mysterious, shadowy, gleaming wet cobbled streets of London. A single noir-esque light casts across the street.

The flashback scenes, in which times were evidently better, the imagery is visually much more crisp, brighter and full of colour, as if to be emitting a warm glow. The crisp, clean whites; so different to the, almost underworld, visual qualities of the rest of the film. Similarly in the flashback to Judge Turpin's party, a masked ball, the surroundings are visually luxurious, filled with reds and golds, feathers, velvet and candles. The imagery becomes visibly overpowering and increasingly decadent as the pace of the scene rapidly increases and acquires a sense of urgency. Characters, abundant with masks of mythical creatures, surround the frame, bringing about a rush of colour and emotion.

Back to the Victorian London of the primary narrative, the colours darken and dampen again. In Lovett's pie shop, complete with it's dusty net curtains that, appropriately (in a Tim Burton film!) appear like cobwebs, flour and dust appears to coat every surface, completely blanketing the dark wooden furniture, absolutely none of which shines. Each surface too, literally crawling with cockroaches.

A set I'm particularly fond of in this film is the actual barber's attic. It's dusty wooden floorboards, lit by a single hazy light from the roof window. Other parts of the single room are hidden by the shadows and the furniture is minimal. The dull, broken mirror provides only fragmented reflections, a true reflection of the characters' personalities.

As Lovett fantasizes of a life away from the city with Todd, her ideas are expressed with essentially warm colours. As she wishes for a life by the sea, the colours used are typically nautical, pale blues and whites, represented by worn beach huts and deckchairs. The fantasy scenes are visually inviting, you feel the warmth in Lovett's desire for family life, in her desire for colour, away from the darkness of London.

Monday, 2 January 2012

Metropolis
(Fritz Lang, 1927)
IMDB


Metropolis is the futuristic story of a working and upper class divide. It houses the classic tale of an upper class man, Freder Frederson, who falls in love with a working class woman, the preacher, Maria.

Set somewhere in the future, Metropolis truly is a masterpiece of visual forsight, with sets of Chicago skyscrapers, when actually skyscrapers didn't appear until at least 30 years after the film's release. With visions of modern travel too- Monorail, trains, planes, all envisaged in this 1927, sci-fi that has influenced so many other films since. The film begs the question; how could the director have had such a vision of a future, that to a 2011 audience, is so actual and current?

The narrative is predictable now, however to a 1927 audience, it would have been innovative and exciting. At times the film seems a little fragmented but this is due to the fact that physically, some parts of the film were lost to the deterioration of celluloid. The film's look is very industrial and advanced, mixing imagery of neon-illuminated skyscrapers and flashing signs with imagery of whirring cogs and steaming pipes. The set makes use of a lot of strong forms; very linear buildings, especially within the working-class area and more adventurous designs within the cityscape, exploring curvature and much less the use of the straight line.

The music is very dominating, menacing at times. It works very well with the very much “German” imagery of the regimented workers in linear formation, and definitely heightens the sense of the looming “below”, where the workers spend their gruelling shifts. Contrast between light and dark is very widely used throughout the film, often adding an almost film-noir aspect to the film; a single light shining upon the desperate woman as the elongated shadow of a madman nears.

In keeping with it's futuristic and visionary theme, the film even explores the possibilities of robotics, making this then, the textbook for all sci-fi films that would follow it's 1927 release. All of the sub-categories explored in Metropolis can be found countless times over in films from the same genre. Personally, I was surprised with the complexity of the editing in this film. At times there are several images all super imposed and layered together and, during a scene demonstrating Freder's delirium following illness, the pace of the cuts between imagery is remarkable! It's very successful in creating a menacing and almost disturbing tone, using the fast pace to highlight the uprising of Maria's (The Machine Man's) hysteria and overwhelming control over the sheep of society.

In the scenes in which Brigitte Helm plays her main character's double, known as The Machine Man, I find her acting really quite disturbing; her movement very disjointed and unnatural. I was initially wary of Metropolis, but ultimately I enjoyed it, it's interesting to see how so many films since this have drawn influence from it, whether that be through editing or actual content. I understand that although I've seen a similar storyline so many times before this, Metropolis, in it's day, was truly innovative and Lang was very much ahead of his time in terms of narrative and content.

The Assassination of Jesse James (By the coward Robert Ford)
(Andrew Dominik, 2007)
IMDB

The assassination of Jesse James is the story of Robert Ford, a 19 year old who idolises Jesse, but who later is branded a coward for killing one of America's most loved criminals. Set in 1881, the film is a recount of the last few months of James' life and the events that followed his death.

The story is told by a narrator whose voice is always accompanied by childlike, soothing and almost haunting music- like that found in a musical jewellery box. The film is often in slow motion as the narrator speaks. He talks of Jesse like a legend, and his image appears on screen amongst a haze of blurred edges, like some sort of mythological being, tinges of red and blue surrounding the image like a 3D filter creating a very surreal and detached effect.

The colours of the opening scene are very washed out, lots of white, pale brown and grey; the long grass a dry, muted gold. The first scene creates a sense of mystery around Jesse James, the tall, linear, dry white trees surrounding The James Gang, towering above them like columns of withered marble. The key word for the majority of scenes that follow seems to be the word dry. Everything drained of water, colour and health, maybe reflecting The James Gang as a whole- tired and dry, many members now dead or too old to partake in any more criminal activity.

The scene continues at night time, showing the robbers waiting in the trees aside the railway line, waiting for the train to reach their previously set block. The screen is pitch black until we see the train approaching, the lights flooding the trees with bright white light, revealing their pale dryness once again. The shadows from these dry columns cast over the masked horrors, silently waiting in the trees. Their makeshift masks of cloth and sack, equally as dry-looking as their setting.

Once on the train, the setting is very different. Inside the mail carriage the lighting is very dark, lots of polished dark wood surfaces and panels. The main colour appears to be brown- the dark wood and the lighter brown for the package wrapping paper. The James Gang appear very out of place here, their somewhat tatty, itchy-looking clothes, much less at home on this train than amongst the dry trees. The layout of the train is very narrow and linear. Each carriage very long and thin. The mail carriage particularly linear, with it's wooden panels, windows and bars/railings. Following this scene, there is a substantial shift in tone and colour. The heavy rain, bringing with it, tones of midnight blue, deep purples and black.

The difference between Jesse James and Robert Ford is considerable. The way each man composes themselves is difference enough; James composed and still, quiet but still an overwhelming presence. And Ford, awkward and fidgety in disbelief of being so close to his childhood hero. Ford also still so young, rocks contently in his chair, grinning.

Throughout the film there are several shots of long, dry grass. Lot's of browns and muted yellows amongst a lot of framing within the camera frame, (shots filmed through frames, e.g. Windows, door frames, bars, etc.)

In a later scene, filmed in the house of Ed Miller, (one of the James gang), the mise-en-scene is very cluttered and run down, a house that has been left to gradually decay. The curtains merely rags of cloth, damaged furnishings scattered amongst the ruins of this broken home- as broken as Miller who knows his fate as Jesse appears at his home. “Insomnia stained his eye sockets like soot”- an accurate observation of the house as well as the man who exists in it. The scene is very washed out, pale and pasty. The home is very tired and again dry, sunlight beams through the one small window, casting light onto the dust that blankets the room. The scenery surrounding the house is equally run down, the dry grass overgrown, the wooden panels deteriorating, the fence broken and in a state of decay. The sky, an overcast sheet of grey, over the once white, wooden house that now sits quietly dying, paint peeling from it's tired panels. I like the whole decaying effect, I think there's a real beauty in the natural wear and tear of life.