Thursday, March 11, 2010

When the camera moves, the eye moves



Being that most of the movies that have been on my blogs are pre 1960, or pre color for that matter (even though color arrived before most of these black and white movies), I thought I would add a clip from a more recent movie--one that we all probably know. I do not know if this was the first type of this kind of shot, but it would be an example from me as being good camera movement. It looks as if this was shot with a Steadicam, that acts like a tracking shot. Why this represents good movement is that it does not distract from what is being said. It simply allows us to see the extent to which this guy's connections go. He enters from the back of a restaurant/club, which is a privilege, and as he takes this long walk through the back; it allows us to see that he is familiar to all. It let's us get a "frame" of the place--letting us really get a visual layout of the place, as it becomes almost comfortable. It is like taking the same route to school everyday--you get used to everything around you, the way the ground looks, the trees, and the buildings. This shot in Goodfellas allows us this same comfort.



This seems to be a home video that just happened to fall under a category that immediately came to mind when I thought of "bad movement"--slow panning at a table. This shot just does not feel right to me, even though it is a home video, because it shot from a person at the table and that person is slowly and perfunctory panning from one person to another. Have you ever been at a table and twisted your head very slowly, on the same eye level (not moving up or down) to one person and to another back and forth? Try it. It's awkward and this home movie is awkward. To the people that shot this, if you ever see this: I am sure that you or your friends or your family are not awkward. However, in a meaningful sense I would not feel right about using this type of movement within a film unless I was trying to give the point of view of a robot.



I could not find the single clips but I will add the times so that you can see what I am talking about. This is from the movie Le Notti di Cabiria (Nights of Cabiria) directed by Federico Fellini and shot by Aldo Tonti. This scene cannot be described properly to give the effect it was intended without watching the full length of the film--which I recommend if you have not. The first sequence is 3:12-3:19. This may have been slightly more involved had it used a handheld (as the camera cannot track enough to catch up with the man stealing the woman's money, however maybe it was intended as such because the man is trying to run away as fast as he can and the camera not being able to track fast enough shows how fast he was trying to get away). The reason why camera movement is important can be answered simply by this one sequence alone: picture to yourself a pan in this instance. What would it be like? Where would it be from? If it was a pan and a zoom it would emphasize quickness but rather a gradual attention (which we already would have on the subject) that would jar us, because the camera would be saying "look at this!"--but we are already aware of what is happening. It would not make sense to me. If it was a simple pan, maybe from Cabiria's perspective, it would lose its importance and devastation. It would seem as if Cabiria was casually glancing over at her hopes, of dreams and love, quietly vanish into the distance. Instead of what really is going on: her being tortured with hate and betrayal as she cannot think of anything else to do but twist around in the dirt in pain.

The second movement I want to mention is a brief but salient: 1:45-1:47. It would seem at first that the slight pan was to get the man in frame, but he is already in the frame. Cabiria is in disbelief in this moment--she wants to be proven wrong for what she is thinking is going to happen, again at this point, where she thought she had found happiness. This slight left pan makes me feel the slight hope that she has that it may just be in her mind. Let me try to explain this because this may not make sense: This man is going to betray her on the day they are going to be married (he only wanted to get her alone to steal her money). Cabiria starts to realize this but still retains that last little bit of assurance that maybe, just maybe, she might be wrong. This hint of a movement exemplifies that to me and to the viewers. We feel that bit of hope with her. It seems that the simplest of things are the most complex and dense.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

A little short of irony



Although it is compulsory to seek meaning within something, almost always finding that we discover meaning in everything, I will try to refrain and instead delineate on the beauty of the replication. Furthermore, to understand something is to grasp a meaning, and this meaning can take the form of anything coherent to us. This short is excerpted from a film about a series of dreams from Akira Kurosawa (real of fabricated). I feel that if these were indeed real dreams they would be an exception to "everything having meaning" for dreams are authored in a language that is unique to the sleeping mind that experienced it. That being said, let us go on to the form then.

I would be hard pressed to offer anything other than a few words to express why this short was arrestingly immersive lest I go on a descriptive musing that will last and last and last.

What is of the irony in this short, that I inferred with the title, is that we are seeing paintings replicated in real life (as displayed by the film itself) that are not paintings (as spoken by the film's Van Gogh--and yes that is Martin Scorsese). In the film we are within the world of the man who painted these, as he saw him, not as we do. Yes, we see the paintings in the film, but these are from the perspective of how Van Gogh himself painted them. So the film seems to be ironic in that we should not be thinking of these highly saturated and stylized portraits as "looking like a painting", even though that is what the whole essence plays off of, but rather "that is how Van Gogh saw life, so he painted it and thus it is a painting".