Showing posts with label Cine Fan HK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cine Fan HK. Show all posts

Thursday, 13 July 2023

亡命鴛鴦 (They Live By Night)

                                     

最近,香港重映了美國導演尼古拉斯.雷(Nicholas Ray)的黑色電影'亡命鴛鴦'(They Live By Night)。Ray可算是美國四五十年代一位比較獨特的導演。他利用自己獨特的風格和選材,去挑戰四五十年代的主流價值,希望在主旋律的空間夾縫裡,找出演奏幾曲變調的契機!

'亡命鴛鴦'的片種,是在該年代十分流行的黑色電影。此片同之後的'雌雄大盗'(Bonnie and Clyde)有幾分相似,講述一對亡命男女相戀和在一個很糟的環境下掙扎求生的故事。Ray電影中的主要角色,偏向會選取一些比較underdog的小人物。而且此片背景是在美國南部,是一個普遍被認為比較落後的地方(這當然是一種偏見,屬於主流電影的stereotyping)。一如很多黑色電影的情節,此片大多數的劇情都是在夜晚發生,一些在社會邊緣所處身的氛圍。所以,本片的英文名稱'They Live By Night'亦頗為切題。

其實Nicholas Ray最初出道時,正值是黑色電影這個片種的黃金時代。當然,這個關於犯罪和一些潦倒小人物的片種,可謂一點都不陽光! 受到二戰時的黯淡氣氛,實用主義和無道德思想的影響,黑色電影往往涉及一些道德觀上富爭議性的反英雄人物。縱使Ray並不太屬於黑色電影的代表導演,但黑色電影中的一些試練,亦促成了Ray在五十年代的作品的獨特風格。例如黑色電影受德國的表現主義(German Expressionism)所啟發,以強烈對比的影像去烘托角色的內心世界和善惡的交鋒。Ray能夠成功地把表現主義引申到其彩世電影中,尤其是阿飛正傳(Rebel Without a Cause)中占士甸的紅衣形像,與及其角色與傳統思想的嚴重衝突。

另一點就是黑色電影中必定會出現的Femme Fatale角色。這種角色,剛剛與該時代流行的喜劇次片種Screwball Comedy中的女性角色有異曲同工之妙。事實上,這種'氣場女'角色亦被後世稱之為Hawksian Women。 她們往往出現在導演Howard Hawks的作品中(通常都由Lauren Bacall和Katherine Hepburn飾演),而Preston Sturges則是Screwball Comedy的大師。Hawks除了拍過不少黑色電影和西部片外,亦有拍過幾部Screwball comedy。 這種女性角色,往往都在戲中與男性角色的角力 (可以是喜劇形式)中顯得勢均力敵,亦打破了當時傳統以男性為主導的片種。尤其在黑色電影中,Femme Fatale往往比男主角知得更多:可能是一些不為人知的祕密或關鍵,顛覆了男性角色較能控制大局和有能力的傳統假設。Nicholas Ray在其五十年代的作品,延伸了這種想法。除了在電影中都有重要的女角外, 有些電影甚至為女性主導,例如'Johnny Guitar'看似一部西部片,其實是關於兩個女主角之間的較量。這樣處理的其中一個主要原因,是因為Ray對社會或文化作出批判時,頗喜歡以家庭作背景,所以女性身份是必定存在。

Nicholas Ray的破格,令美國五十年代的電影增添一份前所未有的新鮮感,顯得更pure更true。  難怪尚盧高達也說:

'And the cinema is Nicholas Ray.'

by Ed Law

以戲服人 Film Analysis


Saturday, 10 April 2021

Nights of Cabiria

 


To celebrate the 100th birthday of Italian filmmaker Federico Fellini, a number of Fellini classics will be shown again in cinemas around Hong Kong. ‘Nights of Cabiria’ is an interesting candidate of Fellini’s wonderful oeuvre.


While cinema lovers around the world are familiar with Fellini’s imaginative style, often characterized by its dream-like tendency, it is easy to overlook that Fellini started from an origin of Italian Neorealism. This film style from the 1940s strove for the most hard-core realism known to film – from the ‘un-cinematic’ casual gestures from de Sica films to the uncompromising scenes common in Rossellini’s films, the artistic movement built up on the influence of von Stroheim and Renoir, and aimed for a kind of documentary realism unprecedented for cinema. The young Fellini has worked with Roberto Rossellini, as a writer for the Neorealist film ‘Paisan’. Hence ‘The Night of Cabiria’ is seen by many as an interesting work in Fellini’s cinema, as it combines two apparently irreconcilable style – his later signature style and the realist style where he originated from. Yet the result is not an inconsistent film: the Fellini masterpiece is a sincere outlook of how one may have survived in a harsh and uncompromising environment.


One can easily feel that Fellini has expressed a sense of pessimism in ‘Nights of Cabiria’, yet it is likely a commitment to the style of Italian Neorealism rather than his personal outlook on life. It is as if the filmmaker is placing the protagonist, Cabiria (starring Giulietta Masina) in a social experiment. Cabiria was a sympathetic character for many, she was a happy-go-lucky kind of person and she was willing to fight for a better future, quite like a Sirkian woman. That reminds me of a later film by Godard, ‘Vivre Sa Vie’, and Nana (played by Anna Karina) was actually quite similar to Cabiria, though not as comedic. By placing Cabiria in a genuinely rough and unsympathetic world, one can see that she was as street-smart as she could be, as it was the only way for her to survive ‘on the streets’. Many viewers have expressed that Cabiria resembles a Chaplin character, and indeed her gestures were not very different from the Little Tramp. While the iconic character is very likeable, one should also note the subtlety offered by Chaplin. The comedic character possessed a kind of passive-aggressiveness in all his adventures, and he was willing to play dirty and rough when the situation called for it (albeit in a funny way).  


Cabiria was as intelligent, yet she had to face a lot of misfortunes, some caused by the economical situations reflected in the film, other caused by the various characters in the film. She has been taken advantage of all the time, even when she was making attempts to connect with other people and to cultivate genuine relationships (the fact that Cabiria was working as a prostitute also signified her instrumental value as perceived by others in the film).  Fellini placed the ultimate irony at the point when Cabiria finally felt serene and thought of a more fulfilling life, she was in a state of trance caused by a magician, under the watchful eyes of some curious audience looking for entertainment. She could not find happiness or fulfilment in reality, and even when she could at least imagine that in her mind, she was still being taken advantage of. 


The rather dark tone of the film took an existential turn, when Cabiria discovered that, after the events of the whole film, she was again facing a man who would give a false promise of loving her, only having an intention to take away her money and possessions. The rather absurd scenario alluded to Nietzsche’s idea of eternal recurrence, or maybe the ‘Kenny dies at every episode’ scenario in South Park. Literally, Cabiria’s life was going nowhere, and she was living her life one day at a time. Fellini was wise in the sense that he did not offer the audience a deus ex machina or an optimistic ending here. Whether the ending is good or bad is not the most important issue, what matters is the reflection that can be offered to the audience. Cabiria finally came to the realization of the absurdity of life, and that would simply not be a miracle and then everything become okay. In the memorable final scene, she gave the answer for enduring the impermanence of human existence: a smile through the tears. The journey of life is long, and only by staying in the struggle will one have the last laugh. 


by Ed Law 

Film Analysis


Friday, 7 September 2018

Otto Preminger




This gentleman from Austria boarded on a ship, and arrived in the United States in the mid-1930s. Here, he worked his way into the Hollywood system, directing a number of iconic films from the 1940s into the late 1950s. His work, for his era, was seen as ‘provocative’ - only because he was willing to expose ideas which were too controversial for the conservative epoch he found himself in. He fought for his right to make the films he wanted to show the public, and he often clashed with the committee which was more than happy to accept ‘feel-good’ and ‘escapist’ movies in an era of conformity and McCarthyism. He was rumored to be mean and a tyrant, which he believed it was due to his occasional casting as Nazi Officers, and, in one occasion, Mr. Freeze in the Batman Series. Yet, he was cherished as a man of integrity and his films would have influenced the French New Wave and many other directors. His name is Otto Preminger, the director I will talk about this time!

Recently, Preminger’s masterpiece, ‘Anatomy of a Murder’, is released again in cinemas in Hong Kong. This is a great opportunity to explore his unique style, and how his preferences shape the themes he has explored in his films. As I have stressed before in previous articles, the greatest filmmakers do not feel there is a need for compromise between style and content – the style often reflects the content they want to express.

Preminger’s background might have influenced his worldview and style. His father was a lawyer, and Preminger studied law at university, yet it was only a compromise as his real passion has always been in drama and acting. Nevertheless, these experiences have certainly impacted his way of looking at the world, and he has always believed that an objective and unsentimental viewpoint was the best tool to understand the world through cinema. Thus, Preminger can be seen as a realist, and many of his techniques were committed to enhance the realism in his film. For example, he favored the use of long take in many of his work, and he has made attempts to minimize the number of editing cuts in his films. The fluid camera movement and long takes he preferred were also curiously similar to many other filmmakers of his era – Renoir, Welles, Hitchcock, Mizoguchi and Ophüls. When a change of character perspective was required, Preminger would tend to use a zoom, a suitable camera movement, or having the character moving closer to the camera, because he felt that an abrupt cut would compromise the realism he has cherished so much. Preminger’s use of deep focus photography, like that of Welles, Renoir and Wyler, also enhanced the impartiality and realism of his films. This classical approach to cinematography has also be championed by later critics such as Bazin. His style can be labeled as impartial and impersonal, and he has committed to an emotional detachment to the themes he has portrayed in his work. He encouraged the viewers to observe, not to actively participate nor to get too close to the action. And, he wanted to divert the audience from those easily-accepted perspectives, which were the intentions behind the authorities and the powerful ones.

To me, an analogy to describe Preminger’s style is a circle – yet one that does not close itself up. Through the well-defined and carefully planned scenes, the characters play out their roles and reveal their contentions, yet Preminger’s eyes did not pass any value judgment or sentimental feelings on any of them. He was like an impartial judge, showing us the world as-it-is.
  
Obsession is a significant theme in Preminger’s work, which is a key theme in many of the Film Noirs. Take ‘Laura’, Preminger’s iconic film noir of the 1940s. The whole film is about the mystery of a beautiful woman known as ‘Laura’, and how the different male characters are obsessed to her through different degrees and means. While the photographic style was highly stylized, the composition of the various scenes also addressed the theme of obsession. One thing that comes up to my mind is related to Hitchcock’s ‘Vertigo’, where James Stewart’s character is spying on Kim Novak’s character, who she is looking at a portrait in a gallery. The portrait, in turn, is looking at the audience! Thus this leads to a cyclical connection between the characters and viewers, reality and fiction! This is also evident in Preminger’s ‘Laura’:  when Dana Andrew’s detective character is looking at Laura’s portrait, the seductive image of Laura is looking at the audience, bluffing the viewer to look closer. We can easily identify with Andrew’s character, because we are just as obsessed with Laura as he did in the film. Preminger understood our psychological design, and exposed our unconscious through connecting us with the characters.
  
In Preminger’s films, the feminine characters are often significant for the plot and motivations of the male characters. Preminger portrayed his male characters in a very realistic manner. Rather than showing these characters as heroic, they are often portrayed as underdogs and desperate men, much like the style of Nicholas Ray and Anthony Mann from the same era. Thus, many of these were film noirs, or at least other genre films with a heavy noir element. The male characters, for whatever causes, possessed greed and fought for their aims ruthlessly. ‘Anatomy of a Murder’ is the prime example, and I believe it is highly recommendable because it provides an extremely realistic look at the justice system. Rather than pursuing for the so-called ‘justice’ as in many of those sentimental films, ‘Anatomy’ provides an objective look at the process of the legal system, and how ruthless one can be to twist facts in order to fit into one’s purpose. ‘Twelve Angry Men’ may be an inspiring film, but it is not a realistic film because the director wants to instill a moral message behind the movie, so Henry Fonda’s Mr. Nice Guy will win at the end no matter how. ‘Anatomy’, on the other hand, challenges the viewer – is justice always granted in the legal system? Is that possible that there will be a ‘wrong judgment’, so the ‘bad’ guy will walk away free? This black-and-white film emerged at an age when color films were getting popular, and it was black-and-white for a good reason, because the style had a film-noir sensibility. If you want to understand what the legal system is about through cinema, ‘Anatomy of a Murder’ is the real deal.
  
Preminger was not afraid to present thorny and controversial issues to the public, as he believed that an impartial portrayal of these issues would lead to a fairer judgment from his audience. His films dealt with many provocative themes – drugs, sexual violence, legal system, homosexuality, mental problems and the controversial historical matters. His films concerned many of the alienated characters who suffered from all the above misfortunes, and he provided an impartial look of how the mainstream society interacted with these outcasts. ‘The Man With the Golden Arm’ was a famous one from Frank Sinatra, regarding heroin addiction (which was super controversial at the time of release). Mr. Sinatra has delivered a smashing performance, and his realistic portrayal of a ‘cold turkey’ was sort of a pinnacle. Other less known, yet worthwhile examples include ‘Fallen Angel’, ‘Whirlpool’, ‘Exodus’ and ‘Advise & Consent’.
  
Mr. Preminger’s controversial image appeared to come from some subjective and personal feelings from certain personalities around the film industry of his time, yet, looking at what he has left for us, I can see him as an honest gentleman with confidence and integrity, and has possessed a mastery of film techniques. His films were ahead of his time, and are still highly relevant today.

by Ed Law
Film Analysis


Saturday, 4 August 2018

Full Metal Jacket


Are we all fundamentally violent, in a sense we are natural born warriors? Is it ironic to appreciate that our success story on our planet is due to our ability to channel out our aggression, either bringing out our most barbaric moments or turning NBK on others? Do we have the capability to bear the co-existence of good and evil, even when they are locking in an endless struggle in the deepest territories of the psyche? Finally, why is there WAR, to start with, if we have always longed for a peaceful co-existence with each other?!  The brilliant filmmaker, Stanley Kubrick, decided that he would explore all these complex issues in one single masterpiece, which is the topic of a series of articles I will write about in August – Full Metal Jacket (1987)!!
It is great to hear that Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket (FMJ hereafter) will receive a re-release in the Film Festival in Hong Kong this month. Based on a short novel ‘The Short Timers’, Kubrick explored the effects of Vietnam War on human psyche, but I have to say there is much more to it. It is noteworthy that the film is very starkly divided into two halves. The first half is about the training of a group of marine recruits in a military camp, and the second half is about these soldiers’ experience in the warzone in Vietnam. For today’s younger audience, FMJ is a film from Kubrick they are more familiar with, and many viewers have likely watched some parts of this film before even if they have no knowledge about Kubrick or his work. Indeed, the first half of the film is probably one of the most iconic and memorable, and, guess what, most entertaining sequences ever from a Kubrick film. The first half of the film has inspired many imitations and parodies in later movies, and I would say many films dealing with similar themes have probably taken inspirations from that too. The success of the first part is very much due to two characters – the Gunnery Sergeant Hartman and an underachiever Leonard Lawrence, most famously known as ‘Gomer Pyle’, a nickname from Hartman. That was the tension between these two iconic characters which drove the narrative of the first half forward, and made this part so memorable. At the second part, some viewers seemed to complain that the narrative became very disjointed and more episodic. To be honest, I would also admit that the second part is less interesting than the more iconic first half, yet I do not agree that the more episodic format of the second half is a short coming. I believe Kubrick adopted this approach because he wanted to contrast that with the first part, as I will elaborate more on the later passages. The more episodic style seemed to signify the random and chaotic nature of war itself, and the apparent aimlessness of the platoon signified the fact that the individualism inherent in any human being could often fit into the main narrative of the war itself – meaning that the soldiers could not quite see or appreciate why they were fighting the war, or they were fighting for, as they were merely instruments for the military industrial complex.
So, FMJ is your typical anti-war flick, right? Well, when I first watched this film in my teenage years, I certainly had this rather shallow point of view. From the dehumanization of military complex to the violence in any war, FMJ did contain a strong anti-war message. Yet the more I think about this film, and the more I understand about psychology, I start to appreciate the complexity of this film. If you have read any of my previous articles about Kubrick’s work, you may expect a statement like ‘Full Metal Jacket is probably the greatest war film in the history of cinema’. Surprise – you will not see this statement here this time. Because if I am really honest and treat FMJ as a hard core war film, it is in no way the best war film ever – films like ‘Apocalypse Now’, ‘The Deer Hunter’, ‘The Thin Red Line’ or even ‘Platoon’ and ‘Saving Private Ryan’ can be considered better war films than FMJ. What makes FMJ special is that it has moved beyond the level of war film – the film is so one-of-a-kind that Kubrick has once again transcended genre categorization.
Let me put it this way. Full Metal Jacket is not merely a war film, that is a film which uses the issue of war as a vehicle to explore fundamental questions about humanity. Indeed, many colleagues close to Kubrick has stated that the motivation behind making FMJ is actually a psychological one – because Kubrick was fascinated with Carl G. Jung’s ideas on psychology, and he wanted to express the idea of ‘The Shadow’ in cinema. Someone, he could see a connection between the Vietnam War and the Jung’s famous ideas – the Duality of Man – and therefore he used the Vietnam War as a topic to express the contradictory dualism inherent in all of us. It is worth comparing FMJ with a film Kubrick made 30 years before that – ‘Paths of Glory’ (1957). In Paths of Glory, Kubrick has made absolutely no confusion about the point he was trying to make – war of any kind and scale is ugly, and it wrecks lives of others. The point of view presented in ‘Paths of Glory’ was very clear, and indeed it was quite a sentimental film which was very different from Kubrick’s usual approach. When we look at Full Metal Jacket, the view point has become far more ambiguous, because Kubrick wants us to consider different perspectives regarding war and the underlying psychology behind that. Kubrick’s approach has matured throughout the 30 years, and what he has been aiming for the last 35 years of his life (since Dr. Strangelove) was an engagement with his audience to discover self-knowledge. Of course, self-knowledge not only entailed the great side of humanity but also his dark and uncharted seas. It is not fair to say that as a pessimism to expose the more painful and ugly moments of humanity, just the opposite, that is how our thinking can evolve and we have a better understanding of ourselves. Thus, I would compare FMJ to Kubrick’s first ever feature film, ‘Fear and Desire’ (1953), as that film was also intensely psychological and used war as a background to explore existential ideas and human personality.
In a nutshell, I guess the question wants us to explore is this – if war is so bad and destructive, given humanity’s intelligence, why is this very idea not replaced? If humanity possesses the intelligence to develop weapons that can target enemy more efficiently and selectively, and can conceive destruction in a far more massive scale, why is this dark side of human nature not wiped out? Throughout history, the story of warriors and conquerors have been celebrated, and they are often hailed as heroes or visionaries, while they certainly did this at the cost of others, no matter what kind of rhetoric they could come up with to justify their actions (that ‘Oh, we are trying to help you because you are less civilized than us’ sort of b.s.). Kubrick was confronting us with this paradox that many of us would find that tremendously challenging to come to terms with. If we are moral and taking a more liberal stance on this issue, and affirming the idea of peace, of course, then why we allow this very destructive activity to continue throughout centuries? In Kubrick’s point of view, the reason is because war is a manifestation of our true nature – our need for violence and aggression. That is nothing wrong or crazy about that, because that is our fundamental nature, just like any animals. What makes humanity different from the other animals is we can instill culture to strive a better balance from our darker attributes. What is more chilling, however, is that how humanity develops the idea of institution to normalize many behaviors that can in no way considered rational. Hence, we have the idea of ‘institutionalized violence’ and war is probably the most exemplary candidate of institutionalized violence.
Indeed, the first part of Full Metal Jacket shows us why the training of new recruits into soldiers are so effective. Because not only the dehumanizing effect has a great impact on the mind of the recruiters, what is often overlooked is that our psychological design is also helping us to transform to become an instrument for the institution. Indeed, it is spectacular and even chilling to see how great the military complex is playing with psychology of the recruiters to achieve a purpose they want – to turn these young and immature teenagers to become efficient killers in combat. The drill instructors are smart in the sense that they can use different tactics to play with the weakness of the recruiters, to influence them to have a self-motivation and drive to transform themselves, to born again hard as mentioned multiple times in the film. When we think about FMJ, there is no point to pass simplistic moral judgement on the film, like saying the drill instructor is a bad guy or so, because that will miss the point Kubrick was trying to make. Every incident, or indeed every character, can be viewed in many different and contradictory angles, and that is why Jung’s idea about the duality of humanity is so essential to the film – humanity is not that black and white, and we often embrace our own shadow if we want to understand ourselves.
In the next article, I will lead you through the first part of the film, about the military training in the camp. Kubrick has taken a clinical approach in this sequence, as he wanted us to serve as observers to this situation, as if we are looking at the action of an assembly line in a factory. The approach we will adopt is going to be very psychological, as I will show how the drill instruction plays with psychological ideas of archetypes, group psychology, intimidation, and the cultural ideas like heterosexuality and masculinity, to build up the military machine of soldiers. Though the sequence has loads of black humor – I am sure anyone will laugh at certain moments – I feel that it is probably one of the most chilling moments in all of Kubrick’s cinema. What makes that so disturbing is the mechanical dehumanization of the sequence makes so much sense to anyone, as this is something not only taking place in the army, but also in any disciplinary institutions. This cold rationalism, developed and perfected by humanity, will certainly send shivers down anyone’s spine - because it just works so well.
(To be continued.)
1/3
by Ed Law
Film Analysis


Friday, 6 April 2018

The Silence



This time, I will talk about Ingmar Bergman’s film ‘The Silence’. This 1963 film is often grouped as a trilogy with 2 other films from Bergman, ‘Through a Glass Darkly’ and ‘Winter Light’. I have written an article about ‘Through a Glass Darkly’ before.

Bergman has stated that the three films of his shared a common theme on spirituality, and he felt that the ‘silence’ in the title represented ‘God’s silence’, which, of course, is a belief many people share in a secular world. While Bergman has often been critical of the orthodox and ritualistic aspect of religion, he did maintain that a spiritual quest for inner truth and faith was important for humanity.

The surface plot concerned a pair of sisters, Ester and Anna, and accompanied by Johan, Anna’s son. It was evident that the pair did not get along, and of stark contrast in terms of character – Anna was the more sensual and active on, while Ester was the more intellectual and distant one. Things got worse because Ester was also suffering from illness, and the trio found themselves in an alien place – a fictional central European country (Bergman went as far to invent the country’s language to make it sound alienating), when it served as a mid point for their train journey to home. It was also clear that the country was going to have war pretty soon. Internal turmoil coupled with external threat, that represented the ‘perfect storm’ situation for a film. What would be the outcome for the trio in such an untimely scenario? Of course, as in any Bergman’s film, like ‘Persona’, what I have just described was only the apparent storyline. If one looks at the story differently, he/she may find a completely different meaning. 

Bergman has been heavily influenced by the chamber plays of August Strindberg and he has contributed by extending this idea into his films, most notably in the spiritual trilogy and ‘Persona’. Bergman followed music laws, rather than dramatic ones, in these films, and as a result he established a cinematic rhythm, very unique and different from the norm – the prevalence of narrative films around the world.

Chamber plays give an intimate sense of feelings for the audience. There are a number of characteristics for this type of style, which is also common in theater. Chamber plays tend to show a sparseness of characters and settings. The number of characters is minimal, and so is the setting. That is done so that the actors can focus on their intimate aspects rather than, say, the detailed set. The actors give naturalistic acting, most notably, they can turn their back on audience, to give a ‘realistic’ rather than a mannerist acting style, and that prevents the audience impression that the play is being ‘staged’.

Many critics and filmmakers do believe that the meaning of ‘The Silence’ is not as obvious as the plot may appear, and certainly such an interpretation has also been made to ‘Persona’ and some of Bergman’s other films. A common interpretation about the film is that Ester and Anna actually represented 2 conflicting dimensions of humanity, as illustrated by their respective character. Thus, the film portrayed an eternal struggle between spiritual realm (Ester) and physical realm (Anna), for which this struggle is something we are all aware of throughout our lives.

I would like to divert your focus onto the child. Johan was portrayed positively in the film. He represented a hope for humanity – with his inquisitiveness, sense of wonder around his world – even if it was devoid of objective meanings and haunted by the fact that ‘God is silent’. He was the embodiment of potential, both in an aesthetic and developmental manner.   

The great thing about Bergman’s approach was that, while he showed the positive attributes of Johan when he interacted with his world, Bergman did not insulate him from the hidden darkness inherent in humanity. When Johan interacted with the kind-hearted waiter in a non-verbal manner – because they did not show each other’s language - the waiter did not forget to demonstrate him the ‘sausage’ show. When he interacted with the apparently funny all-male dwarf troop, one of them went as far to put Johan in a dress and kissed him. Johan might not be intellectually ready to understand the implications behind these scenarios, yet no one could make him immune to the nasty things of the adult world, just because he was a child. Johan had to experience the tanks, the aircrafts, the embodiments of war in Bergman’s bleak landscape, no matter how mysterious that might first seem to his nascent mind.

Nevertheless, a very powerful act by Johan was that when Ester believed that she was beyond all points of revival, she covered herself with a sheet on the bed to serve as a gesture of her ‘death’. Johan, walking by, proceeded to lift up her sheet and exposed her again. Though it was just a simple gesture, it took a very spiritual dimension, as if Bergman was offering a sort of hope in a rather hopeless situation portrayed in the film. The child might show innocence, yet he did possess an inherent sense of compassion when facing the demons of degradation.

I can also think of a further meaning of the film’s title. Because Bergman has portrayed a world that had a lot of ambiguities and uncertainties, and the silence of God meant that there were no ways to strive an impartial viewpoint in all of these. A silence of the inaccessible truth. After all, contradictions have to co-exist in our world – that is the aspect that makes us human.

Film Analysis




Saturday, 3 September 2016

Through A Glass Darkly


Ingmar Bergman’s ‘Through a Glass Darkly’ (1961) is considered as a member of a trilogy of films, which also includes ‘Winter Light’ (1963) and ‘The Silence’ (1963). While I plan to discuss all 3 films as a whole in a later article, as they all possess a common theme on religion and the related spiritual questions, I am in particular fascinated with ‘Through a Glass Darkly’ as it also involves psychological themes. That will be the focus of this article.

Influenced by the chamber plays of Strindberg, ‘Through A Glass Darkly’ possesses a 3-act structure and the setting is extremely claustrophobic The scenes are minimalist in the sense that there are only four major characters in the film, and, while it may sound a bit of a cliché, the characters act as mirrors for each other. The intensity of the story rests on the claustrophobic environment and also the intimate interactions for the limited number of characters. On the other hand, the story takes place on a defined place and a defined period of time – a 24-hour period, which reminds me of Aristotle’s Poetics – and his criteria on the unity of drama. This is also an attribute much treasured by Andrei Tarkovsky’s later work.

Four family members took a vacation in a secluded island, but in a Bergman film, it was unlikely to be a happy experience. First, the schizophrenic Karin was just out from an asylum. His father, David, was not too content, neither. He was a novelist suffering from a writer’s block. And then there was Karin’s husband, Martin; and Karin’s younger brother, Minus, who did not have a great relationship with his father David. Karin’s delusions (or genuine spiritual experience) led her to believe that God was calling her; and David was desperate to have progress in his work by writing about Karin’s plight as the inspiration. Martin was not too happy about this. On the other hand, Karin insisted that her experience with God was real and she pressed responsibilities of everything, including her misconduct with his brother Minus, as callings from God. Frustrated by the fragmented experiences that were tormenting her psyche, Karin asked for permission to return to the asylum, before stating one final time that she has seen God coming and ‘God is an evil-faced spider, and his eyes are cold and calm’ - as it was only a spider which emerged from the place where she believed God would have emerged. Karin was returned to the hospital by Martin, and Minus finally had a real conservation with his father, and they both knew they had the chance to reconcile.

The minimal number and intimacy of the characters suggested that each of them could serve as mirrors for the others. While these reflections were not objective representations of the true affairs, they could at least serve as a motivation for introspection, and also served as a viewpoint for the various characters to ponder on their own personalities. Bergman’s faces are the mirrors for the characters and the audience alike – it is the gesture to invite all of us to confront our true nature.

Bergman, like Robert Bresson and Carl Theodor Dreyer, could be all considered as ‘spiritual filmmakers’. Yet in Bergman’s work, he has often been skeptical about the existence of God. Karin’s spiritual experience in the attic was questionable, as Bergman has not indicated to the viewers whether her hearing from God was a genuine experience or just clinical dementia. This has led me to draw parallel to the situation of Joan of Arc, for which Bresson and Dreyer have made stunning films about; and I have also talked about ‘The Passion of Joan of Arc’ in the past articles. Many subsequent academics have questioned the authenticity of Joan of Arc’s spiritual experience, suggesting what she has believed to the ‘voice of God’ could just be her schizophrenic condition. So, the call to protect her country may after all be a clinical delusion! Certainly, these theories are all speculations because that are no ways to verify these hypotheses empirically. Nevertheless, this serves to illustrate the complexity of psychological issues, and the interplay between the spiritual and psychological dimensions of the human condition.

by Ed Law
3/9/2016

Film Analysis


Saturday, 27 August 2016

Persona


‘Persona’ (1966) is one of Ingmar Bergman’s most iconic achievements. The film possesses some of the most powerful filmic images that have ever emerged from the medium, and the style and theme presented in this piece of great European art cinema have inspired so many later filmmakers. This black-and-white film is confrontational, and it has a starkness that reminds me of Hiroshi Teshigahara’s ‘Woman in the Dunes’ (1964). On the other hand, it also reminds me of ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ (1968), as both films pose questions rather than offering answers. ‘Persona’ is a total mystery, and there is simply not one unifying interpretation regarding what it is about. You do not go to Bergman or Kubrick and ask them what the movies mean – it is you who are supposed to connect and understand these masterpieces in your personal way.

The story of Persona is indeed quite simple. Elisabet Vogler was a theatre actress, who has suddenly become mute during a stage performance. So, a nurse called Alma was called in to take care of her, and the majority of the story revolved around their intimate interactions. Alma talked to the mute Elisabet throughout the film, and in most cases Elisabet did not response in any verbal means. Yet, as the story progressed, all lines of divisions were blurred. Past and present were linked up, dream and reality were no longer clear, two faces seemed to merge into one...

Bergman’s Masks

The word ‘persona’, which is derived from a Latin origin, means the masks that are worn by actors when they are performing on a stage. Isn’t life a drama after all? We all wear various masks when we interact with others. We present ourselves to the others as a certain persona, and too often, we hide our true selves behind the curtain. What is even more depressing, however, is that we often do not have the courage to face our real selves. The theme of mask and façade is prevalent also in Jean Renoir’s films – from ‘The Grand Illusion’ to ‘The Rules of the Game’. Renoir firmly believed that, only by looking beyond the façade and tearing off the masks, one could finally see the true face of humanity.

Why do we have to hide behind these false personas and exist as if we are theatre performers? To Bergman, we do have quite a lot to hide. We all have a lot of problems and angst to confront, and when we start to consider the meaning of life, we are exposed to an emptiness and loneliness for which the implications are often tough to take in. The ennui and emptiness of modern existence is also a major theme in Michelangelo Antonioni’s films, and it should not be surprising that both Bergman and Antonioni’s most productive periods are both in the 1950s / 1960s. To repress these hard feelings, we desire to run away from all these intimate problems and long to play another easier role, through the undertaking of another persona.

The fun of acting, however, is hard to sustain. In the film, Elisabet suddenly broke down during a stage performance and ceased to speak anymore after that. The breaking point represented the dissonance between her stage persona – or in a more metaphoric way – the persona she was pretending in real life – and her truest inner self. It was the massive conflict of her true and assumed self that made her aware of her existential problems. Her powerful response was that of silence - this was her statement that she did not want to play this assumed role anymore.

The axis of turning

In Bergman’s films, turning is one of the most important and symbolic gestures. In many cases, it is the turning away that represents the most painful experience for the characters. Turning away is to run away from problems, relationships, and human interactions. That explains why Bergman’s faces are his most resourceful motifs for his work. The movements and gestures of the faces very much convey the interactions of the characters, and also symbolize whether they are willing to commit or not.

In Persona, Elisabet has been trying to run away. She was mute most of the time, and she did not response to any of Alma’s questions. Alma served to confront Elisabet, to ask her questions about her past experiences. Alma’s challenges invited Elisabet to confront her true self, and to add to that, the stunning close-up of faces also invited the audience to examine themselves. Elisabet, like any other characters in Bergman’s films, could not run away from her problems. She might be mute for no sensible reasons, yet the true voice in her mind would not cease. The intensity of the film was contributed from the two great actresses, Bibi Andersson and Liv Ullmann. In most of the film, there were only the two of them performing, and the claustrophobic intimacy only added to the intensity and the psychological thrill of the resulting masterpiece.

Offering a helping hand

Bergman’s films often deal with existentialism, and the journey to find one’s meaning of existence is often a lonely one. I feel there is an optimistic aspect in many of Bergman’s bleak pictures – the company of someone who is willing to give a hand. The most powerful ‘face’ scenes in Bergman’s films often consist of two faces – with someone who is willing to ask questions and to inspire. It is the presence of an ‘other’ who will motivate you to look beyond the surface and give you the courage to face the spiritual sickness, which in Bergman’s view, is far more problematic than any physical sickness that has appeared in this world.

by Ed Law
27/8/2016

Film Analysis


Sunday, 8 March 2015

The Grand Illusion


‘The Grand Illusion’, by any metrics, was one of cinema’s most inspiring gifts. Not only it was one of the greatest works in the War genre, it was also the very first ‘Prison-Escape’ film. It inspired numerous other films, the most famed ones being ‘Casablanca’ and ‘The Great Escape’. It was one of the pre-WWII films that Renoir had full artistic control on, and his unique style could be fully realized. The story delivered a strong sense of humanism. Renoir wished to convey a pacifying attitude to put brake on the eventual clash between nations – yet this attempt proved to be futile.


The storyline was simple yet humanistic. Two French pilots were shot down by Germans during the World War I, and they were sent to two prisoner camps, where they met other Prisoners of War. Under circumstances, they reconciled with some of the POWs they have met before when they were transferred, and also met the now crippled German Officer (played by the one and only Erich von Stroheim) who was now serving as the head officer of the prisoner camps. The POWs had different backgrounds, and originated from different ranks of social ladder, yet they could be able to respect each other, and the prisoners could also identity with their German counterparts. Nevertheless, the POWs hatched a daring escape plan, and the blue-blooded French officer turned out to be the one to sacrifice his life and allowed the remaining escapees to run away. After a brief stay in a common German girl’s house (played by L’Atalante’s Dita Parlo), the surviving duo eventually made their ways across the Swiss border.


‘La Grande Illusion’ was considered as an exemplary case of Poetic Realism. The humanistic elements conveyed in the film contributed to such a notion. Renoir adopted a cinematic style that would eventually be fully realized in his masterpiece, ‘The Rules of the Game’, to afford a cinematic naturalism that audience could be identified with. In order to bind all the characters together through a frame, he adopted his famous deep-focus photography to balance out the objective distance between his various characters and the audience. By using a fluid camera movement, the realism and the objectiveness of the scenes were enhanced, and this was signified by a far longer Average Shot Length (ASL) as compared to many contemporary films – which suggested the preponderance of sequence shots.


Using the aforementioned techniques, the theme of ‘unity’ could be succinctly stated. Renoir intended to unveil the illusion that categories and labels were meaningful and would lead to better ends. In the film, the group dynamics were not always dictated by stable categorizations – class, nationality, character were meaningless and these could all be reduced to one class known as ‘man’. Down under the skin, we are all indeed the same. No one particular attributes were above other – for example, the blue-blooded French pilot turned out to have an unlikely friendship with the German officer because they came from a similar upbringing and gained mutual respect. The Frenchman was far more reserved with his other working-class comrades, though ironically, at the end that was him sacrificing for a greater good. This is what humanism is all about – human characters are so complex and unpredictable that makes it such a fascinating appeal. By abandoning the futile labels, humans could then transcend and get closer.


Though the emergence of this film could not wipe out the arrival of WWII, Renoir has indeed made this truly inspiring film that its impact could still be felt many years after its release. As Welles has complimented, ‘La Grande Illusion’ was a film that should be brought onto the Ark!

Poetic Realism (2/3)

by Ed Law
8/3/2015

Film Analysis - 36




Sunday, 1 March 2015

Poetic Realism – A Mélange of Real and Imaginary

A memorable image from Vigo's 'L'Atalante' (1934). The realism of the barge was accompanied by the dream-like grace of the newly-wed couple. Would such an unlikely combination be ready for the disenchantment that followed?

Introduction


The term ‘Poetic Realism’ at first sight represents a term of contradictions. While ‘realism’ signifies a perceptible reality that is accessible to most of us, ‘poetry’ opts for a more imaginary, even dream-like frontier which is often beyond the preceptor’s reach. Poetic Realism is defined as a cinematic movement that took place in France during the 1930s. The style and content of these films often reflected the prevailing sentiment in that particular epoch, especially the perception of impendent dangers that Europe would soon be torn apart by the World War II.  If, as Schrader has suggested, the Film Noirs of the 1940s and the 1950s represented the post-war disillusionments of USA after WWII, then Poetic Realist films could be rightfully considered as a reflection of the pre-WWII sentiment. The key directors were Carné, Vigo, Duvivier, Grémillion, and the most famed in the club, Renoir. Poetic Realism serves as a link to connect the realist French art from the late 19th century, and the future cinematic movements including Film Noirs, Neo-realism and the French New Wave. In this series, I aim to illustrate that not only there are no inherent contradictions in Poetic Realism, but also a solid mélange of the Real and the Imaginary has led to some of the most memorable work ever committed to cinema. Style and substance can co-exist in complete harmony.

Zola

Origin of Poetic Realism

1. Naturalism

It is widely accepted that Poetic Realism originated from the French literature of the late 19th century, for which a realist tendency has been struck in order to provide a more authentic portrayal of the current affairs. Émile Zola and Guy de Maupassant were prime examples of this realist style. A closely-related movement was known as literature Naturalism, in which Zola’s name would be forever associated with. Through careful observations reminiscent of the scientific method, Zola aimed to expose some of the naked truths about human nature and sentiments.  A number of Zola’s works have been adapted into films, most notably Renoir’s ‘Nana’ (1926), ‘The Human Beast’ (1938), and some from other directors. 

Erich von Stroheim


Greed (1924)

2. Erich von Stroheim

It would be of injustice if a discussion on Poetic Realism did not address the name of one cinematic artist – that of Erich von Stroheim. As one of the masters of silent cinema, von Stroheim was known as the first auteur – a director who instilled original ideas into his work. He was also known for his focus on realism in many of his silent work. Von Stroheim’s most famed work, ‘Greed’ (1924), has long been considered as a classic example of cinematic naturalism. By adopting an approach close to Zola and enriching the story with a tragic dimension, von Stroheim’s ‘Greed’ managed to expose some of the darkest secrets humans have always been acquainted with. While he did not have any opportunities to direct upon the arrival of sound cinema, von Stroheim has since inspired many major directors, among them Jean Renoir and Orson Welles. 

Other contemporary styles, including Impressionism, Expressionism, or even Surrealism, were also seen as possible influences of Poetic Realisms, as different artists in Poetic Realism had their unique backgrounds in their artistic stints, and this enriched and diversified the breadth of Poetic Realist style.

An image from the Port of Shadows (1938), a prime example of Poetic Realism. The cargo ship and the port signified a working-class background. A high contrast style rendered the image almost expressionistic, and the dialectics between light and dark in the same image contributed to the underlying tension. But then, we were still confronted by the solitude of being.


The themes of Poetic Realism

The ‘substance’ of a Poetic Realist film is the ‘reality’ it attempts to portray. The ‘style’ of the film is the unique ‘poetic’ signature the director provides to his own work.

1. Social

A common plot of many Poetic Realist films involved some sort of tragic figures who were situated in a doomed love adventure or were struggling against an inaccessible aim. This general observation very much summarized the theme of many Poetic Realist films. Poetic Realism aimed to provide a more realistic portrayal of contemporary lives of common people. Hence the protagonists were often working-class people, the marginalized or ‘underdogs’, who did not share any cinematic glamour with those characters in the more traditional motion pictures. The aim was to provide a cinematic naturalism that the viewers could be easily identified with. As mentioned above, this sentiment could be related to the increasing awareness of the threat of a major war (WWII) marching towards them, and also the more deep-rooted economic and social problems that have become quite commonplace during the 1930s.

Trouble brewing in Renoir's 'The Rules of the Game' (1939). It was the perceived common interest that drove all the characters to the chateau, it was their disillusionment that drove them all apart. 

2. Worldview

If one could appreciate the almost ritualistic plot of many Poetic Realist films, one should easily conclude the worldview of Poetic Realism was that of a pessimistic, at best reserved outlook. The characters of Poetic Realist films were often fatalistic – they believed in a fate that governed their existence and perish – and the free will they attempted to exercise could often not alter the tragic outcome that awaited them. The motivations of the characters in these films were often driven by an almost animalistic desire and their self-preservation in a harsh universe. Indeed, a number of the greater works were seen as precursors of the genre ‘Film Noir’, the most famous being Pépé le Moko (1937) by Duvivier. 


Jean Gabin in Pepe le Moko (1937).

3. Style

The mise-en-scène in Poetic Realism was used to create a unique atmosphere relevant to the content portrayed in the film.  Realism was of prime importance here, yet different artists would also provide more stylized interpretations to their original work. Smoky chimneys and fog lights were the norm, as they designated an industrial, working-class environment which was more than common for the proletariats.  Certain artists, Renoir as an example, strived to provide a naturalistic viewpoint in most of this works in the 1930s. By employing an extremely dynamic camera movement, he created a fluidity that enhanced the realism of his pre WWII-films. The various artistic signatures of Poetic Realism went on to influence the gritty realism of Film Noirs in the 1940s, although this genre took one step further and also instilled expressionistic style (that of German Expressionism) in terms of the lighting and composition in the work, in order to reflect the more distorted worldview and anxious mental states of the characters.  

Beyond easy labels: nationality was not what brought people together in 'The Grand Illusion' (1937).


In addition to the above, I also observe 2 more themes that are highly emblematic of the Poetic Realist lexicon.

1. Transcendence

Our world requires us to categorize the masses of ideas to achieve a better understanding of our places in the universe. To define what is, is really to define what is not. Many of the Poetic Realist films unveil the dialectical relationships of the various concepts, and to show that they are not essential. If we judge what is around us merely by their face values, we can easily fall into the trap of crude binary opposition. Even opposite concepts can co-exist without problems, providing that a right balance exists. Freedom and responsibility came hand-in-hand in L’Atalante (1934), there were no absolute criteria to rule out one from another in ‘The Grand Illusion’ (1937), theatricality and fact were mingled so thoroughly in ‘The Children of Paradise’ (1945). To understand the futility of categorization is to transcend oneself, and that will lead to an appreciation why distinct terms like ‘Poetry’ and ‘Realism’ can stand peacefully under the same roof.

2. Illusion vs. Reality

One of the most relevant dialectic for everyone to face is the confrontation between illusion and reality. In Poetic Realism, this notion is often addressed and in some cases the boundary is blurred. The prime example was Renoir’s ‘The Lower Depths’ (1938), which was adapted from Maxim Gorky’s famous play. Tortured by the harsh reality they were facing, the characters succumbed to dreaming and illusions to console their ever-weakening will, under the assumption that they had no way to divert their future trajectories. Illusion and reality could also come hand-in-hand in a Poetic Realist film. While the often less than satisfactory reality was presented, it was the director’s vision that provided a window to expose the more ‘poetic’ side of the human condition, sparkling with vivid illusions, dreams and ultimately hope and inspirations.

Final words

To give a final statement about Poetic Realism, the quote by Jean Renoir about how his filmmaking hero, Erich von Stroheim, has inspired him, is highly illustrative:

‘Reality has no value except where it is transposed. An artist only exists if he creates his own little world.’

Such is the spirit of Poetic Realism, or to put it more simply, what cinema should always be.

In the coming articles, I will discuss 4 films which are exemplary of the style of Poetic Realism – Vigo’s ‘L’Atalante’ (1934), Renoir’s ‘The Grand Illusion’ (1937) and ‘The Rules of The Game’ (1939), Carné’s ‘Children of Paradise’ (1945). ‘L’Atalante’ and ‘The Rules of The Game’ will be discussed in separate articles. ‘The Grand Illusion’ and ‘Children of Paradise’ will be our focus in the next article.

(1/3)

by Ed Law
1/3/2015

以戲服人 Film Analysis - 35


Saturday, 11 January 2014

窈窕淑女 (My Fair Lady)


窈窕淑女 (My Fair Lady) 50週年紀念




窈窕淑女, 真的是君子好逑嗎? 那就要看妳能否擺脫不當的口音了!



今次介紹的窈窕淑女 (My Fair Lady, 1964) 是五十年前的金像獎最佳電影。 故事改編自蕭伯納(George Bernard Shaw)的作品, 原版是一齣歌劇。 電影版由擅長拍攝喜劇的George Cukor導演, 柯德莉夏萍 (Audrey Hepburn)Rex Harrison主演。 即使你從不看電影, 沒有丁點兒的時尚觸覺, 也應該知道柯德莉夏萍是誰。  她彷似一個永恒的icon:無論任何時代的人都會覺得她很酷。 不論是珠光寶氣(Breakfast At Tiffany's)裏的'夏萍頭' 那黑色裙子, 以至她高唱‘Moon River'一曲, 或者是羅馬假期(Roman Holiday)裏嬌俏的公主, 又或者如'How to Steal A Million''Wait Until Dark'裏的盲女, 都能夠把她獨特的氣質和才華表露無遺。 '花邊教主' (Gossip Girl)的女主角Blair Waldorf也十分崇拜她! '窈窕淑女', 她飾演的Eliza Doolittle也是一個極為著名的角色。



故事是和傲慢的語言導師Henry Higgins (Rex Harrison)有關的。 他認為一個人的社會地位, 是和他能否說一口高尚的英語有直接關係的。他與一位朋友打賭, 自己能夠教曉屬於低下階層的賣花女Eliza Doolittle (柯德莉夏萍飾), 令她擺脫Cockney口音。 他運用了不同的方法, 最經典的當然是教她朗誦‘ The Rain In Spain Stays Mainly In The Plain' 一句。 Eliza的表現有了明顯進步, Higgins便帶她到當時象徵 貴族階級的場所 - 馬場 不過熱愛跑馬的Eliza因為過份投入, 忍不住說了一句髒話 ('Come on, Dover, move yer bloomin' arse!'), 登時技驚四座, Higgins亦忍俊不禁! Eliza成功地'被改造', 眾人都歸功於Higgins身上, Eliza感到不是味兒。 兩人的關係愈見惡劣, Eliza更加愛上了另一位高貴的男仕。 最後Higgins終於能夠說服到自己, 不再需要Eliza 當他回到家時, 驚覺Eliza真的回來了!



人的天性, 就是喜愛作出各種無謂的分類: 社會地位, 政見,興趣... 然後便互相排斥, 將不喜歡的人邊緣化。 故事裏的 Eliza 不肯安於現狀, 而去做一些超越自己的事, 不甘被旁人小看成一個無知的賣花女。 這其實於與另一齣英國歌劇'Educating Rita'異曲同工: 故事的女主角Rita
不滿足於單調的主婦生活, 於是便去修讀英國文學。 不過師徒關係應該是雙向的, 不可以單純地把所有的功勞都歸功於其中一方。  老師應該用有創意的方法去激發學生的思考, 但如果學生沒有盡力去超越自我的話, 又怎麼能夠成功? 嘗試做一些自己不可能似做到的事, 人類的智慧才會進步。




青出於藍非壞事, 妄自領功不尊重。 今年你又有什麼新目標呢?



by Ed Law
11/1/2014




以戲服人 Film Analysis - 21









Breakfast At Tiffany's
Roman Holiday