Sunday, February 1, 2009

Relationship To Reality

While I am unsure that Hitchock’s Suspicion fits all the analysis Stephen Heath projects onto it, I find the value he puts into the study of space gratifying. Yet I think this sort of questioning of space is better suited to films that use it more specifically to create a mood. It is telling that the only point in Hitchock’s Suspicion that Heath examines is one that breaks away from the classical: “Out of the action, breaking the clarity of direction, obstinately turned away, one of the inspectors is pulling to the left, gazing abruptly at something hidden from us, without reason in this scene” (Heath 21). Here Heath turns away from expected Hollywood form just as the inspector Bensen turns away from the narrative action of the scene – and they both find themselves examining an abstract piece (moment) of art. Perhaps it is a “Hitchcock joke” as Heath says – though I believe that in this case it might be fair to say that the joke is on him – as Hitchcock forces the critic to stand in a position mirroring that of subject.

Yet I believe that it is from this perspective that one can truly appreciate the ability of space. “[F]or Vertov, cinema could be made to challenge that vision by constructions of dissociations in time and space that would produce the contradictions of the alignment of camera-eye and human-eye in order to displace the subject-eye of the social-historical individual into an operative-transforming-relation to reality” (Heath 33) In other words, cinema has the ability to open the viewer to new ways of experiencing – challenging one’s “relation to reality.”

This ability to challenge is a valuable one but, in his essay, Heath limits the ability of space solely to it’s communication of traditional narrative space: “…scenographic space, space set out as spectacle for the eye of spectator.” (Heath 30) this is the basic point on which I find myself disagreeing with Heath. His continuous references to the “Quattrocentro system,” based on the above definition of it assumes the system’s reliance on the artist to create space “as spectacle” for a “spectator.” Yet I believe this is a boundary to the abilities of the camera’s relationship to space which have been overcome (in experimental film such as Michael Snow's Wavelenth – as is cited in Cooper’s essay “Narrative Spaces”). While the camera is very good at presenting the classical Hollywood spectacle for the viewer, the camera also has the distinct capability of creating a space without spectacle – it can create a mood – the camera itself can be an actor (such as in the early work of Stan Brackage) and the portrayal of space does not have to be dominated by a plot..

There is one other note that I would like to make in addition to Heath’s examination of the visuals of narrative space. Heath admits that “film is said to destroy the ‘ordinary laws’ of pictorial organization because of its moving figures which capture attention against all else” (32) This claim is in a certain context undeniable – our eyes are programmed to follow movement as the most identifiable –most traceable – element of film, yet I believe this perception is one perpetuated by a classical film industry, and it is one I would like to challenge.

To harness the powerful attraction of the human I towards movement, a director must use continuity editing to guide the audience. I believe, however, that spectators are used to director’s reliance on editing space that the expectations of the movie-goer depend mostly on this visual language to communicate influence. I also believe this is crippling to the active awareness of an audience. For example: we typically rely on the opening sequence of a film to introduce us to the figure who will be our main focus for the majority of the film. Yet this expectation is not always fulfilled. In the 1967 film Playtime by Jacque Tati, our opening scene is in an airport that we enter by following two nuns through one shot into another, crossing from left to right. The first temptation is to assume we will continue to follow them until we are greeted with the magically audible voices of the couple at the front of the room. The first pair we attach too through the cuts and action within space (following Heath’s claim about action through narrative space), and in the second case we pick up on the couple nearest us in the frame through their voices – the only clue given in this static visual composition. And soon enough we realize we are wrong as we begin to hear our way around the image – searching for one character’s path to hold onto: from a noisy cart, to an officer’s clicking heels, to a baby’s cry, to a woman with a carriage.

We sit expecting a cut to divide the broad space we are confronted with and to take up an actual narrative by following one of the many creatures we hear and see pass through the screen, and when the cut finally occurs new characters entirely are followed and our ears pick up on a new pair: two women talking who too soon exit the screen to loose our attention again. Our ears place us in different spaces throughout this first scene – ignoring the usual hierarchy of visual composition – but taking up not the absolute supremacy of moving figures as Heath says, but by taking interesting the dichotomy between our fixed visual perspective and our dynamic audio perspective. Here, the viewer’s relationship with reality is challenged mostly by the film’s distinctive presentation of sound “within” a space rather than by the space itself but similarly calls to mind the questions posed about the relationship between the spectator and world they project themselves into.

7 comments:

  1. Out of this very thorough post I found two quotes in particular that I wanted to focus on. The first your claim that "cinema has the ability to open the viewer to new ways of experiencing – challenging one’s 'relation to reality.'" I definitely agree with what you're saying. As Heath says "film is not a sum of images but a temporal form; movement is not just perceived in itself but localized in space...the spectator is not just responsive to what is moving but also to what stays in place and the perception of movement supposes fixed frames." All film is, when you boil it down, is a perception of movement; no one actually walks around with an on screen character to get the sense of movement. And sometimes film can make the movement across an entire country seem very minuscule, as in Sleepless in Seattle. I definitely thought differently about cross country relationships after this movie, and it is purely due to good framing and editing. In reality, people cannot match eyelines across the country, but Sleepless in Seattle makes you think it is possible.

    The second point you make that I wanted to discuss is your notion that the portrayal of a space does not have to be dominated by a plot. Once again, I agree and cite Sleepless in Seattle as an example. If you take out the concept of space in this movie, you have no plot essentially. Michael Snow found the tension of narrative in the tracing of spatio-temporal donnees, according to Annette Michelson. There is no doubt that the shrinking of the separation of space between the two main characters Sam (Tom Hanks) and Annie (Meg Ryan) contributed to the building tension towards the movie's final climatic scene.

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  2. I find Sarah's analysis of sound in this post to be very interesting. I hadn't consciously thought about my initial expectations upon watching a film, but I do depend on my ears for cues as to where the film wishes to direct my attention. I've been fooled by visual cues in the past, so I know that the initial person or thing at the center of the opening shot is not necessarily important. However, what I am listening for is audible conversation; if I can make out words, I accept that the characters are worthy of my attention, and can expect that they have a major role in the narrative.

    I was thinking about this in the context of the opening scene of Touch of Evil. After the bomb is placed in the car, the car begins to move. The camera follows the car for a while, but eventually begins to follow other activity in the street. Our eye is drawn to various people moving about the city, then back to the car, then to the various, unidentified people again. Of course, this famous scene has no cuts to tell us which things are most important. The audience is unsure as to how much focus to place on each instance of movement. In the context of Touch of Evil, this makes sense. The car bomb, though dramatic in the beginning, ends up rather irrelevant to the mystery of the narrative.

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  3. I do agree with you on the point that film possesses the ability to create space by itself with no need of any actors, but we should not be comparing films that were based on the classic cinematography rules to the works of Snow and Brakhage. Both of these film makers are creating their art in a completely different genre. They are creating films in the avant garde genre of film, a genre that always focuses on technique over substance, which usually entails a detailed narrative or plot.
    Films in this genre, especially those made by Brakhage, were made with none of the ideals that the films we usually watch had in mind.
    I also agree with your point that the camera sometimes betrays the audience when it is focusing on characters on the screen. You use a great example of using the movie "Playtime." The first time I watched that movie I was also expecting to follow the couple that was talking in the beginning of the scene, but was then attracted to other parts of the screen by not only the motion of other characters, but also by the sounds that they made. Sound is something that if used incorrectly, could distract the audience completely.

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  4. Like Michael, I too found your discussion about sound very intriguing. While the camera, and thus cinematographers, directors, and other visionaries were freed years ago when sound and camera were able to separated, we the people (viewers of the movies) have never had the freedom. But are we viewers the fools, or if this simply the by-product of a "classical Hollywood" industry that affects everyone? Between the thousands of voice-overs and first or third-person narrations that so often begin and end films, it is sometimes hard to know what to do when we are confronted with something entirely different. The truth about this, however, is that the necessity of employing other senses to attain knowledge is an actual part of our every day lives. As Bordwell says, a film allows us to be omnipresent; but real life is not that way. We don't know what the people across the room are conversing about, or what our best friends are saying at this very moment. Ours is a very limited existence, and sound cues in films only serve to spoil that, showing us a world that does not exist. Perhaps the move away from silent movies was not as progressive as we have thought it to be.

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  5. Your point of view is very well-articulated and you bring counter-perspectives to both Heath and Cooper's articles that I had not considered.

    The second issue you bring up, that of editing and its ability to "cripple audience awareness" is very fascinating. I agree with you that we come to expect the story of the movie to be given to us without us having to really think about it or to put much analytical thought into it. We certainly assume that the exposition of the film will be told to us right away and that threads of each characters lives will be slowly pulled away. Like you said, this takes away from audience awareness: we tend to stop really seeing the film and begin to expect instead of think. When you see movies like Cache it is understandable why people would be frustrated by it because it does nothing of what we expect nor does it guide us through the narrative. Rather it lets us develop our own ideas and to really examine the narrative of the story as well as the mise-en-scene more carefully. Everytime there is a really long take, we think "What is the directing trying to tell us to watch? What should we be seeing?" The idea of the unexpected in film is refreshing, I think.

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  6. I think it's very interesting that you discussed the visual expectations of viewers and the disconnect that film makers sometimes make between sound and picture, such as in Playtime. When our eyes (the camera) don't go where we want them to, it can be awfully disorienting. The inspector in Suspicion does this when he looks out of the frame and breaks our focus on the plot. Perhaps this technique plays into our natural, physiological reactions. The cause of motion sickness, for example, is a disconnect between the movement that our eyes see and the movement that the fluid in our ears register.

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  7. I must say, Sarah, that I agree with you on your analysis of Heath's analysis of "Suspicion". He presents a lot of theories and opinion, and goes to great lengths to support them, but honestly he doesn't have a lot of support aside from his analysis of that once scene with the painting.

    Granted, that's what Negar focused on in her lecture, and it IS certainly a compelling one; the clearest evidence of the power of out-of-frame space its ability to affect in-frame space. However, I can't help but wonder if Heath wasn't perhaps reaching in his attempts to rationalize or explain the behavior of the detective in the film. I agree that there must be something there that isn't immediately obvious based on the plot, but for the life of me I'm not wholly sure or convince what that might be. There must be SOME meaning in it--otherwise, it's just Hitchcock toying with our minds (which, in hindsight, is not outside the realm of possibility).

    I'd be interested in hearing about your opinions regarding the use of gaze and eye-lines to determine connection and dialogue between scenes and shots. A lot of other bloggers commented on the use of gaze and out of frame references in "Sleepless in Seattle" to link Sam and Annie despite the immense narrative and cinematographic distance between them; even when they are geographically close, the two never appear in the same shot until the very last scene. What do YOU think about the roles of gaze and eye-lines in building not just continuity, but larger meaning and textual understanding?

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