Showing posts with label Melodiousness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Melodiousness. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

THAS: Scene from 'Night Terrors' #2

A quick break from LIFEFORCE WEEK for the opening scene of NIGHT TERRORS - an exhibition of towering concept, exactly devised and satisfactorily, with elegance, carried out.

 

#2 -  Towering Concept - "Such enthusiasm!  I commend you."

A medley of tortures begins Night Terrors as a sort of symphonic overture. Western classical music and its ecstatic bourgeois climaxes are equated to institutionalized corporal punishment and the ecstatic climaxes of torture. 

Ignore the less-than-ideal elements of production and limitations to credibility and what you've got here is a brilliant, cerebral concept, one executed with the care and sense of control over formal nuance that makes such an idea as eloquent and communicative as it ought to be.

One such limitation to credibility is the layman movie-world use of Rossini's "The Thieving Magpie" overture, the most music-ignorant-chic classical cue to use perversely ever since Kubrick manifested postmodern testicular murder alongside the Rossini piece's pompous trills and self-aggrandizing crescendos.  But its royalty-free triteness does not diminish the nature and point of its use: as a ghostly, lilting echo of European aristocratic taste playing in direct melodious counterpoint to the spectacle of torture.


The series of tortures all connect across confident fades, creating a complete fluid musical piece.  First, the title appears over a camera self-consciously descending, feet to head, over an abject, upside-down Marquis de Sade.


"The Thieving Magpie" reaches a swelling rhapsodic section, leading to a dissolve that unveils the Marquis splayed out on a rack, a symmetrical portrait of suffering between two caged prisoners (presenting a dialectic of class, which occurs throughout this sequence).  He is being whipped, and, alongside the rhapsodic strings, the camera rhapsodizes pain.


This musical juxtaposition is a towering dialectic, a bold commentary convening and evoking complex interrelated social constructs: class and society of the early modern era, the high culture of the era, the punitive practices of the era, and the moral conflict and social hypocrisy revealed in showing implicit systemic interrelation (between culture and capital, status and law, etc.).

Inlaid deep within the careful sound design, in which the "Thieving Magpie" samples flutter dissociatively in and out alongside Dov Seltzer's grim synthesizer score, sonically residing within the dungeon walls, is the full nuance of the concept: bourgeoisie culture is conflated with all levels of broken civilization, such that the complacent popular music of the time resounds within a prison squalor of social and moral inequality.  All that the Marquis represents is found in the juxtaposition of pain with ecstasy - humiliation mixed with entitlement, "moral justice" subverted by the righteous libertine but simultaneously embodied by the degraded nobleman.


Another immense, climactic orchestral flurry in the Rossini piece mockingly accompanies an immense pull-back from an eye doused in lye, ironically making grandiose what is actually the most internal experience (the experience of great pain).

The overture of tortures concludes, but the Marquis de Sade's total mortification proceeds to his march to his cell, past crowds of poorer prison mates who heckle and throw righteous slurs at a symbol of their socioeconomic subjugation.

Hooper's camera creates a morphing line of movement.  Sade begins the scene moving towards, or perpendicular to, the camera.  After he has reached a certain point along the perpendicular axis, he performs a little half-twirl to address an inmate behind him.  Finishing the twirl, he now faces left in the direction of his continued path, and, in a fantastically nimble bit of choreography and staged design, this finished twirl cues a movement forward of both Sade and the camera, which now tracks alongside him and to which he now moves parallel.  Sade in the foreground and descending a short stairs, the camera takes on a high-angle view, revealing a pit below him filled with more wretched, thrown-together, lesser privileged prisoners.


This expressive but somewhat obvious shot (the revealing of the rotten lot below him and in relation to the haughty Marquis, and also an animated, elegant bit of camera movement) is just what leads to the most extraordinary moment in this scene.  First, as Sade walks away from the camera - returned to the perpendicular axis by Hooper's restrained and observant subjective camera - we hear the recurrence of the "Thieving Magpie" tune in the soundtrack.


He then leans against a wall in the distance as the Rossini music grows in volume...


The ghostly music gets even louder when a guard places his hand on Sade's shoulder, provoking the swinging of the Marquis's hand straight into the air as he screams: "Silence!"  And, in conjunction with his peeved cry for silence, the classical music cuts out with a sharply-cleaved residual echo.  Diegesis and non-diegesis becomes an abstract ambiguity, the materialism of popular music becoming flotsam in the altogether other realm of life in a prison.  It is a striking bit of meta-construction that further equates the fallen nobleman with the European art music that is inextricable from the lifestyle of those with such social status, a part of their complacent, entitled existence, and a class weapon, even as he has been sent to rot away that status in a prison.


These opening credits already make a promise of a film that will at times work at a mode of airless presentation of form and theory, rather than a traditional entertainment of narrative and emotional involvement.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

THAS: Vincente Minnelli

"Repeat viewings of Singin’ in the Rain merely confirm its initial pleasures. Repeat viewings of The Band Wagon bring forth a work of an increasingly apparent formal, thematic and emotional richness which the Kelly/Donen film never approaches. While there are several ways of accounting for this difference in the two films, arguably the central one is the sensibility of The Band Wagon‘s director, Vincente Minnelli... Minnelli is often condescendingly regarded as the ultimate example of the decorative metteur en scène. Certainly in his handling of color, camera movement, costuming, decor, and staging of action, he has few rivals in the Hollywood of this period. A recommended experiment: Try watching the “Shine on Your Shoes” number in and force yourself not to watch Fred Astaire and LeRoy Daniels. Instead, only take note of the direction of the extras; watch it again, and only note the function of the decor and the camera movements; then watch it one final time putting all of these elements together. It is a very densely layered sequence, not only a brilliant Astaire number but a brilliant example of mise en scène."
If John Carpenter is the Howard Hawks of New American horror, then Hooper is the Vincente Minnelli (... with a certain eye of Fellini, and the self-nature, desires, and beset tooth-and-nail independent career of Charles Burnett, who, by the way, is certainly another one of the unsung graces of the cinema now...).

But yes, Minnelli. Sensibility. Color. Staging of action. "The function of the decor and the camera movements." "Densely layered sequence... a brilliant example of mise en scène." Film scholar Joe McElhaney hits Minnelli and The Band Wagon right on the head (I also encourage reading his general profile article on Minnelli at Senses of Cinema), and the "Shine on Your Shoes" dance number he singles out is another scene I'll immediately put up as one of the grand achievements in cinema - a statement I previously made about the living room scene in Poltergeist.  And indeed, both are a wonderment of directorial orchestration (of bodies in movement in time and space) and the aesthetic camera, tied to grand yet somehow - probably in their being embedded in the scene-craft's formal structures and perspectives - always sublimely understated emotion (and positive emotion).

Descriptions of Minnelli sound like Hooper to me.  The way their cameras are motivated by a full-fledged aestheticism tied to fluid beauty and those Bazinian ideals of revealing "structural depth" in the "reality of dramatic space."  The ways their cameras triangulate space, reconfigure staging, musicalize blocking, generate rhythmically their elegant camera gestures. See the edge of the frame, highly susceptible to the flight of characters into it... The high level of movement continuity between shots... Their cameras that bend and contort around decor and actors in the most inspired and sophisticated vectors, morph the architecture of a space into psychological geometries, seem to float every now and then in a cloud of characters' feelings, rise and fall in the most emphatic use of dolly and crane motion, glide past shoulders in loving exhortation of depth cues... The camera as living entity, alive and capricious, not afraid of the sprightly, reactive camera... the specifically-timed planning and precision of the movements, not suggesting simple style or emotion, but strident visual analysis and the aesthetic rhetoric of the plastic art... Minnelli and Hooper are flamboyant when they are being subtle, subtle when they are being flamboyant. Their mannerist use of depth, often three-plane images that place an emotional figurehead in soft foreground, emphasize coexistence and emotional life.  Characters changing placement within a single shot resulting in the constant reshaping of the composition and perspective. An aesthete's sense of the truly elegant tracking shot, or the elegance of the slow and low, or practically imperceptible, pull-back. Simply put they are always in search of beauty, or, even more precisely, sublimity.

In this "Band Wagon" musical number, we've got a wordless sequence, a revolving display of interacting characters and contraptions of amusement (contradicting the sequence's beautiful sense of artificiality, its interaction of crowds, machines, and the herding camera is entirely evoking of the spatial reality of the environment), and a glum rich guy, Freddie A., who experiences something of a silent, communal reverie with his surroundings, before it culminates in a joyous dance with working fellow Leroy Daniels.

For your enjoyment, here is that scene and two others, all of which are simply three of my favorite scenes from Minnelli's musicals I've seen (I actually have much of his filmography to go still, but these scenes have undeniably stuck with me, and I'll place the "greatest of cinema achievements" claim on the extra two as well) - truly joyous scenes from one of the truly joyous filmmakers.  But do watch them carefully if you choose, for they are in fact highly representative of many of the attributes I looked into above ("Trolley Song" may be a bit of an indulgence):

The "Shine on Your Shoes" number from The Band Wagon
 

"The Trolley Song" from Meet Me in St. Louis


The "By Strauss" scene from An American in Paris

(This scene is actually an incredible example of many of the aesthetic techniques mentioned above.  Depth, blocking, graceful and minute dollying, timed movement, the interaction of bodies in a restricted space, the precise arrangement of the bodies in the frame resulting from their constantly reconfiguring [here, literal] loopty-loo and dance.)

Saturday, March 24, 2012

THAS: Melodiousness

3 Consecutive Moments from 'Toolbox Murders'

#1 - Melodiousness - Laundry Journey

Melodiousness drives Hooper's formulations of mise en scene, camera movement, and the eventual editorial rhythm. Hooper has one of the lightest and constant touches. Every consecutive shot connects in surprising and musical ways with the previous one, whether through the activity of the camera, or the activity of the persons or objects within it. His melodiousness is also one of the most informed by lofty ideas of structure, aestheticism, and the cinematic discursive.

(1)

a. Nell and the Wall
Musicalized space
Two floating, forward-pushing shots musicalize Nell's position relational to the wall.




b. Nell Goes to the Wall
Continuities of space captured by use of the edges of the frame



Nell and the Wall





c. Nell Flees the Wall

(Camera dollies forward alongside Nell's movement, capturing her sense of alarm.)


(2)





A pure musical shot: a succinct camera push-in towards Nell as the elevator doors close:







A melodious sequence in 3 pieces: 1) Nell in the elevator with the dude behind her. 2) The dude leaves, and we end with the camera push-in on the elevator doors closing on her. 3) The following: a temporally and spatially syncopated witticism of non-context... a sudden acquisition of quasi-POV...

The elevator doors shut in the previous shot... immediately we are thrown this uncontextualized shot of a toolbox on an unspecified floor...

The camera sticks on the toolbox for a prolonged second before suddenly whip-panning across to...





... Nell, just leaving the elevator at the basement floor. The elevator is still noisily shutting behind her just as the camera sets on her, in practically musical a punctuation of both time and environment.

This is a shot that is once a POV, but not a POV. An odd cinematic formulation, and an example of Hooper's sense of pointed cinematic discourse, of formalist dialectic.

It conjoins with the 2 previous moments into a 3-phrase musical sentence (or a 3-stanza poem) harmonizing Nell's emotional beats that consist her trip down the elevator.
A melodious sequence in 3 pieces.



(3)

A wonderfully quiet, elegant moment.

Nell arrives at the laundry room...

She stares into the gape...

"Are any of the machines free?"
(an off-screen voice, an off-screen interaction)
"Sure, come on in."
She and the camera set into motion, through the wall.





On display here is the anti-crassness and sensitivity of Hooper: a first interaction between two people, who will soon establish a bond, is kept hidden and obscured from us. Hooper is a filmmaker of great, preeminent sympathies with the finest, gossamer, see-through feelings in representational life (aka the cinematic-allegorical storytelling), and he melodizes them - gives them existence - through the musicality of his film craft.