Sister of a Prodigy

Welllllllllllllllllll, I don't have a whole lot to tell that's new. This week was just another lecture class. A film/honors student came to class and showed us his film. He's been working on it for three semesters and finished two days ago. Maybe I'm just a rough and tough film critic, but I really wasn't very impressed. It was slow and so poorly lit that I couldn't tell what was going on. Maybe that was what he was going for? I admired the autobiographical efforts, but in my opinion....it just didn't quite cut it.

His results make me nervous... If he's been working on that for a year and a half, what the heck will I end up with after half of a semester? Call me a pessimist, but I think I'll just start hoping for a little better than the worst.

Last weekend I went home for the first time this semester. I talked with my brother, an elite member of Har-Ber High School's film program, about our projects. He started asking me all these questions about "plot point one" and character development and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. I just had to respond to him with a blank stare. He laughed condescendingly and proceeded to tell me how one of his films that he recently finished for the governor has been aired locally and entered in some sort of statewide competition. I can't lie, I'm impressed. Now if I could only get him to make my movie....

I also mentioned to him that my specific role was sound editing. At this, he turned up his nose and said, "Dang. That sucks. Sound is, no joke, the hardest part." My immediate response was, "Dang. That sucks. I shouldn't have been the nice guy and taken last pick." Oh, well.

We got in groups again and talked over our plans for our films. Here are my honest feelings in black and white about what we've got planned (sorry group, nothing against you). I don't like them. I think we've made everything much too complicated. I pictured a movie with very few cuts and very little sound-if any at all. I pictured a very dramatic, but boring movie with a bang at the end. I want simple, but powerful. That's not the way things are looking now. And it's killing me.

Conclusion: Movies are for watching, not making.

Entertain Me, Please

Last Thursday we watched The Player. It was... interesting. It's about a big wig in a movie production company, Griffin. He's potentially losing his job as the movie begins and we soon find out that he's being blackmailed by a rejected writer as well. There were a plethora of things that I found interesting and creative and well done in this movie, but overall I didn't care for it. And the redeeming qualities were:

1) The nine minute introductory scene- A long, sweeping scene without any cuts is one of the elements that I had entertained putting in the film that we are working on. It was enlightening to see a well made, and interesting example of such a thing. I loved the way the scene didn't focus on only a few characters. It showed so many different situations from so many different angles that I didn't even realize there had been no cuts. The overlapping sounds also affected my perception of this scene, which leads me to...

2) The director used some sort of new sound technology, an eight track something or other, that could lay sound on top of sound on top of sound. As a result, multiple lines of dialogue as well as sound effects could be distinguishably heard-with a little concentration-by the viewer. The sound made the movie realistic. I felt as if I were eavesdropping on people around me, all the while still emersed in the conversation at hand.

3) An affective use of symbolism- There are only three that I can think of off the top of my mind, but I kept seeing them over and over again throughout. The first was when our bad good guy drowned the writer in the puddle. Red neon light was cast onto the puddle from a sign above, making the situation a little creepier and more dramatically murderous. The second and third were the wardrobe choices for the man character and his love interest. As the movie progressed, the Griffin began wearing more and more black and taking less and less time to do his greasy, dissheveled hair. His lover, on the other hand, spent the entire film in all white and very little, if any, make-up. Griffin's wardrobe represented the progress of his "blackening heart" and her's represented natural purity.

4) Someone noted before the movie that there were very few big stars in this film. I'm not sure what the heck said person was talking about, because The Player seemed to be second to the Academy Awards as far as big star content was concerned. I saw Anjelica Huston, Burt Reynolds, John Cusack, Whoopi, Tommy Lee Jones, Gary Busey, CHER, Julia Roberts... and the list goes on. I've always loved movies that incorporate real life nouns, it makes things so much more interesting.

Things I didn't like? I didn't like the plot. I didn't like the raunchy sex scene. I didn't like not finding out who the blackmailer was. I didn't like that Griffin reproduced. I didn't like the pace of the movie. It was slow, and I was bored.

I'm ready to be entertained.

And the Award Goes To

Our script is written. Our actors are chosen. Our sets have been mapped out. I'm not sure I'm happy with our decisions. I'm a control freak. I've had a difficult time only playing the role of sound techy for this project. I have found it extremely frustrating to pour my ideas into our movie- ideas that I, naturally, think are totally brilliant and experimental and would BLOW the audience's mind- and then have them shot down by the "higher" powers. Or, even more frustrating, have them stolen straight from my brain and rearranged into terrible semblances of what they originally were. I really would kind of like to be able to sit back and let those in charge figure out what they want to do and then let me know so I can just do my job. Oh the life of a writer must be so sad and terrible. It's funny to look around and see the other muffled control freaks. I feel relieved that I'm not alone. Don't get me wrong, my group is great.

I learned that the only sound I record while we're filming is dialogue. This is cool and uncool. Cool because it means that I can do whatever the heck I want with sound. If I want no sound, I can do it. If I want an overload of sound, I can do that too. I'm still confused about what my exact role is, though. It seems that the editor kind of does the same sort of stuff. I'm not sure if my job comes before or after the editing. Or inbetween? I'm really banking on one of Eric's sessions to cover this.

Gosh. What else is there to tell? I don't want to give away any plot details, so there's nothing more to tell on the movie front. I'm not sure what movie we're watching this week. It has to be better than the last, though.... The Academy Awards are on. I'm loving them. Sometimes I feel disillusioned by movies. I love it when award season rolls around and recreates the magic. It's so refreshing.

The Art of Raunch

Can I appreciate the "genius" of Brian De Palma? Sure... I can definitely see how brilliant one must be to put elements together the way he did. Using Hitchcock's crazy camera skills, what seemed to be a general plot line from Blow Up, etc. and making it all work together to create one, fluid film is impressive. It reminded me of the way I was first enchanted by the way J.K. Rowling worked magic on Harry Potter or Ridley Pearson and Dave Barry created a background story for Peter Pan from thin air. Those stories are what made me have such an appetite for reading. The absolute brilliance behind the stories moved me. I wanted to find the brilliance within myself...

Did Brian De Palma's Blow Out move me? Heck no. I genuinely regretted being alive for all but one scene of the entire movie, and that was the three minute scene at the beginning where John Travolta is recording sounds on the bridge. The remaining hour and a half was near torture.

So, like I said-Techniques? Brilliant. Plot? Eh...There have been better, there have been worse. Acting? A little overacted at times, not terrible. So where exactly did this movie go wrong for me?.... I can't put my finger on it. I was really strongly against the vulgarity of the first three minutes of the film, the nudity, and the foul language. The rest of the movie could have been all hearts, stars, and rainbows....but that just ruined it for me. My mind registered "BOO!" and immediately turned off. I felt embarassed, uncomfortable, noxious, disgusted, and dirty. Donna said that De Palma would manipulate us. Those are all feelings that I don't think anyone should be made to feel. I think I feel a little betrayed by De Palma. How DARE he subject me to such crude material. UGH. So, there's strike one.

Strike two came around as soon as we met Sally. She was a weak, annoying, soggy piece of bread type of character. Plain. And. Simple.

Strike three? I was really annoyed by the fact that I didn't know what the heck was going on even after the credits rolled. I spent the entire duration of the movie in a state of bored confusion. I usually enjoy and consciously look for a good plot twist/unexplained detail. I really could have lived without finding out what exactly happened and who did what. The plot and it's inner workings were a bust, in my opinion.

Was it Brian De Palma's fault I didn't like his movie? Yes and No. He made directoral choices that I definitely didn't agree with, but the plot was a blow out.

Experimental experimental

So, for this class we have been divided up into six groups of four or five people. I was blessed with outstanding group members (Mariam, Austin, and Matt) who I am thoroughly excited about working with. Each group is responsible for producing a 5ish minute film for our final. As a group, we assigned individual roles. Mariam is director, Austin is editor, Matt is cameraman, and I am soundwoman. We are, essentially, our own film company. I wasn't aware until last night that there were more stipulations for our movies (i.e. genre, props, dialogue). Group five was assigned the genre of "experimental." We initially turned up our noses. What the heck does experimental mean? So... We wikipedia-ed the genre and learned that "experimental film is the range of filmmaking styles that are generally quite different from, and often opposed to, the practices of mainstream commercial and documentary filmmaking." Basically, these films try to do exactly what is not normal, like scenes out of focus or the lack of a soundtrack. They're supposed to connect the viewer more closely to the film. Two weeks ago I was all for this genre. I wanted to go crazy with the "rules" and throw all caution to the wind. But, now I'm scared. I think I'd rather sit comfortably within the highly expected cliches of a romance.

Before we ever were assigned the genre, we started brainstorming. It was obvious from the start that we were keen on a romantic, cutesy film. We had four main plot lines lined up:
1) Girl meets guy. They spend perfect, romantic day together. Girl finds out guy is gay.
2) Geeky girl meets guy. Guy not interested. Girl gets makeover. Guy wants her. Girl kills guy.
3) Girl always ends up going on dates with creepers. Finds prince charming at the end.
4) Girl and guy best friends. World is ending. They spend last day together. They die.

We figured we had all of our bases covered. We has romance/comedy covered (obviously). We had horror covered (with #2). We had sci-fi/action/drama covered (#4). And then Eric threw us a experimental curve ball... So, we thought we might just try to include EVERY genre in one movie and call it experimental. I had a feeling that wasn't exactly what Eric had in mind.

So, Austin blurted out that he really liked the creepy dater plot. I started thinking on this and came up with the idea that maybe this female character could date all of these "creepers" and never have a successful relationship. Upon examining herself, she realizes that all of these men weren't actually strange. There was in fact something wrong with her.... We haven't gotten much further than this. What I have in mind is a turn of events where we learn something about our lead female that makes her reevaluate who she really is.

Some things I want to include:

Garrett Wright
a montague of "creeper" dates
a 360 degree shot (That 70's Show)
lead only shot in POV/over the shoulder

It's a Wallgreen's kind of world

Singin' in the Rain.

I'm ashamed to say that I'd never seen the full movie until last night. At least I'd seen the infamous rain scene...

I enjoyed watching this movie better than watching Sunset Boulevard. This one was just so cheery and left me feeling so fluffy. I was reinergized enough to finish writing my sophomore lecture. As I made my way home, the outside (freezing) air even felt a little warmer. Sunset Boulevard left me feeling so dirty and tired and made me feel like I ought to keep looking over my shoulder into the shadows to make sure that Norma wasn't following me home.

While there are obvious reasons for the two films' opposing tones (song and dance vs. ominous mood music, technicolor vs. black and white, hopeful plot vs. hopeless plot) , I'm wondering... what were some of the hidden reasons?

I'll use our reading from this week as a jumping point. Let's talk about the set. In Sunset Boulevard, Norma's house was portrayed in one of two schemes. The first was very open and lifeless. Take, for instance, the images caught near her staircase. The viewer could see just how magnificently expensive the decor must have been but there was also an earie quietness to the whole scene. These scenes gave the effect of a lonely grandeur. On the complete other end of the spectrum was Norma's sitting room where she and Joe wrote her script. This set was so full of knick-knacks and photos and lounges and pillows and furniture that the scene was almost stifling. These scenes did a fantastic job of displaying how suffocating and overbearing Norma could be.

Now, let's move on to Singin' in the Rain. Most, if not all, of the sets were quite large in scale. They were neither vacant nor over-propped. There seemed to be a specific, tidy place for everything. I don't know why, but the Walgreens commercials where the world is a perfect place keeps reappearing in my mind. I'm thinking of the rain scene when Don's prancing down the street... the street is so clean! There's not stray trash, gum stuck to the ground, or stray cats. He lives in a Walgreens world. Apart from the acute conflict over producing a successful talkie, this movie's Hollywood world is flawless.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, well done you set and prop directors. You really highlighted a lot of underlying theme in these two movies. I'd like to give credit to these guys for evoking a noticeably different response to each movie.

I don't want to appear to have written this as if I thought of it all before typing. I truly have just come to the realizations. There's nothing like beginning with one intention and ending with a different one.

Hitchcock Loves Bikinis

Let's see. This week is the most psychotically stressful week in my college career. I can currently think of little else beside projectile motion, free falling objects, diabetes, how to explain marathon training in spanish, and how I'm going to surely fail life by Friday. The gears and turbines of my mind have iced over-thanks soggy, wintery weather-and I can't seem to find my de-icing fluid. All that to say, I'm hoping that a stream of consciousness approach will be the key to my success with this week's blog post.

What methods from the past few class periods do I believe I might be able to pull off in my short film? Well, I suppose that mostly depends on what we make our film about. A romantic film would certainly use different techniques than a slasher film. There are, of course, a few that I'm interested in doing, but am intimidated by.

#1 I really want to make a talking transition. I was so impressed by Orson Welles's Citizen Kane. The scene that ages Kane and his wife in what seemed like one swoop blew my mind. I'm especially impressed after experiencing firsthand just how crafty you have to be to create a legit, smooth, flawless transition. I'm not sure I was fully satisfied with any of my transitions in my boxed film project. They were either corny-like a powerpoint, or awful and obvious. I have an inkling of an idea how this could be achieved, but in reality I'm like a blind mouse in the dark. I don't know what the heck I'm doing.

#2 I'd also really like to have a few shots where the depth of field is HUGE. I love shots, like in Sunset Boulevard, where you can see foreground as well as background action. I'm imagining a sort of melodramatic situation where a character comes walking up from a long way away, all the while viewers being able to clearly distinguish who the character is....leading to a "Oh Barbara Bush's brassiere, HERE HE COMES!!!" gut wrenching reaction.

#3 Eric said that the rule of thirds and the 180 degree rule were just rules of thumb to keep images balanced and viewers clear as to what action is taking place. I really want to break these molds and deliberately NOT follow these rules. I'm not sure if I'd like the finished result, but I'd at least like to try it out. I think it would make for an interesting, iconic sort of film. Who doesn't want to stand out now and again?