Monday, April 25, 2016

How much truth is in the truth?


Title: How much truth is in the truth?

Name: Elizabeth Moll

Personal Response to Film:


                 Errol Morris directed a classic expository and interactive documentary in The Thin Blue Line that mimics a defense and juror relationship between the film and its’ audience. In general, I like documentary films or television shows. However, I was really indifferent to The Thin Blue Line. Part of what makes a documentary stand out from others is its ability to convey a message that’s important during a meaningful time. You have to catch the audience at just the right moment. For instance, Making a Murderer (a close in comparison criminal injustice-type story) was more interesting, but mostly because I’m from Wisconsin where the events had taken place. That same notion is true for The Thin Blue Line. The biggest reason I was interested in the film at all was because I used to live Texas, close to Vidor where one of the “characters” had come from. I felt more of a connection to the film, because I know what injustice looks like in that area. If I were to have watched this in 1988 when the documentary came out, it might have had a larger impact on me because pointing out the injustice and corruption in the legal system was less common during that time than it is now. So needless to say, I’m not really all that surprised that someone was wrongly prosecuted in the murder case of officer Robert Wood. This goes to prove that many documentaries are great in their time, but are not usually deemed timeless classics. 

                It’s hard to get past the slightly uninteresting topic of The Thin Blue Line, but when I do I really enjoy the film elements that Morris uses to expose to truth, or the sort of truth. There is this interesting subtextual purpose of developing the film. It’s easy to be drawn to the idea that Morris is trying to expose how the criminal justice system is flawed by using the murder of officer Wood as an example. But, it’s not what he’s trying to expose as much as it’s how he’s exposing it. He uses the
film in a way to make the audience feel like they are jury members. Morris being the defense attorney, defending Randall Adams. The whole film is setting Adams up as an innocent man. When the film was being taped, both Adams and David Harris (likely, but un-convicted actual murderer) were in prison. Yet Adams looked significantly more done up than Harris. Adams had on what looked like normal clothes. Closer examination revealed it was likely a white prison uniform due to his name above the chest pocket. However, my first time watching the film, I didn't even notice that. Harris, on the other hand, had a bright orange prison jumpsuit on. A clear iconic prison outfit. Already, in the first few minutes, we have visual clues that set up Adams as innocent and
Harris as guilty. Although nothing has been said that is “untrue”, there is a perception of truth being told here. That perception is continued throughout the film, which is exactly what Morris is trying to portray. Morris genuinely believes Adams is innocent, but he’s making a statement with his film technique and film noir elements. He’s saying that it’s easy to believe something when it’s set up so perfectly. It’s hard to stand up and question the “perception” of truth, when everyone else is following along with it.


                I connected the film noir techniques Morris uses with those common of supernatural recollection documentary shows like The Dead Files and Paranormal Witness. I have no aversion to using film noir elements in documentaries, but the recreation of events using those elements is clearly overdone and even a bit tacky at times. This adds to the lack of believability or at least adds to the indication that what is being watched is simply a perception of truth. I think if Morris really wanted to show the events objectively, he would have only included images and/or video from the actual crime scene or criminal evidence. This confirms my impression of the subtextual meaning
being linked to the way people perceive things and how that relates to the criminal justice system. Morris directed a solid documentary, if that’s what he’s trying to prove. It’s all the more reason we should remain critical of what we see, and question how much truth is actually in the “truth”.

Summary of Critical Article:

                 Lucien J. Flores wrote a critical analysis sweeping The Thin Blue Line for Morris’s hidden message that affects and examines mental constructs in his article titled “The Thin Blue Line and the Ambiguous Truth”. The article, short yet revealing, inspects Morris’ film for its presentation of the truth. Flores writes, “This ‘truth’ revealed by the end of the film is simply Morris’ interpretation and presentation of the events, yet, he successfully convinces audience members to believe him” (Flores, 2012, p. 3). This compelling statement discloses the criticism and praise Flores gives Morris on his ability to offer the facts in a way to “convince” the audience of one thing or the other. Flores gathers a plethora of evidence that Morris is not objectively creating this film, but using it to persuade others. However, even Morris “recognizes the pitfalls of the medium such as the fact that truth cannot accurately be depicted with film” (Flores, 2012, p. 3). Flores goes on to cite Richard K. Sherwin’s article about schemas and scripts within the realm of mental constructs. The suggestion, is that through careful examination of such mental constructs, there is the ability to see how multiple versions of the same story can lead to various conclusions and thus interpretations. Flores uses this information to propose that “Morris shows how subconscious mental constructs ‘predispose us to play out certain scripts, schemata, and setreotypes’ when interpreting any story” and therefore, “wants his audience to understand that these mental constructs exist while simultaneously appealing to these same constructs” (Flores, 2012, p. 4). This analysis by Flores, more simply put, implies that Morris used the same technique in his film that he was trying to expose. In revealing this, he is proving how it works, and that it works effortlessly, so that by the end of the film the audience was sure that Randall Dale Adams was innocent.

Response to Critical Article:

I am pleased to see that Lucien J. Flores found a similar subtextual meaning within The Thin Blue Line that I did. Flores’ article was easy to read and efficiently produced his point of view in a straightforward, candid way. I feel that Flores and I picked up on the same idea that Morris constructed his film to reveal more than the corrupt criminal justice system, but also show how people can be easily persuaded in either direction of interpretation. Although our ideas were comparable, Flores laid his out effectively as he pulled from various parts of the film to add proof to his standpoint that “Morris engages in a form of reality-making” (Flores, 2012, P. 2). Many of these that I hadn’t thought of.

                One of the big choices that Morris made, that Flores points out, is his “sequencing and editing decisions that make [Emily] Miller seem unreliable and unbelievable” (Flores, 2012, p. 2). This was really interesting to me because I felt that Emily Miller kind of proved that she was
unreliable on her own. I didn’t think she really needed any help with that. However, Morris made certain filmmaking decisions to extend that argument even further, leaving the audience shaking their heads at Miller. Some of those include how the interview with Mr. Miller depicted a rather bizarre Mrs. Miller, and how (as Flores points out) Emily Miller was introduced with her obsession of crime shows. Flores even dwindles down to amplify the smaller details like the how “typical murder-mystery show music that has a circus-sounding childish quality to it” played while Miller was on screen (Flores, 2012, p. 2)

Flores deepens his analysis by dipping into the idea that Morris showed a version of the truth, or as I put it, a perception of truth. I really enjoyed how he brought up the amount of people Morris talked to and interviewed. The number of people he talked to tops over 200, interviewing 24 (Flores, 2012). Yet, we only viewed a handful. That confirms how the audience only has a partial truth. This partial truth leaves unanswered questions that the audience really doesn’t even consider. This basically strengthens Morris’ subtextual meaning that “every story is a construction, whether it is the prosecution’s interpretation of the events or that of The Thin Blue Line” (Flores, 2012, p. 3).

Flores gave a solid argument with substantial evidence to show his point of view on Morris’ film. Still, Flores didn’t really criticize Morris, but praised him; and by doing so, Flores exposes how all documentaries are really only partial truths. And I completely agree. This doesn’t mean that it is a bad thing for documentaries to be a perception of truth. It’s just revealing how so many people perceive them as whole truths; and instead, suggests that audience’s should view them understanding that they are not reality, just reality making.



Consideration of Critic’s Use of Critical Frameworks/concepts:

                Flores’s article uses the formalist approach as a foundation for a gripping analysis. He looks at many aspects of the film including the “characters”, point of view, patterns, music, etc. He encouraged viewing the film for its elements in order to perceive the hidden meaning that Morris is portraying. However, his second to last paragraph proposes that his earlier formalist approach is only the tip of the iceberg and that finding the subtextual meaning is through a deeper look into Richard Sherwins article on mental constructs. This supplements his already impressive analysis that has tangible evidence to discover Morris’s motivations behind making the 1988 film.

Film Analysis:

                In merely 15 seconds, Morris uses certain film elements to portray Emily Miller as an unreliable eye witness as Flores noted in his article on the film. I was interested in this aspect and searched for a scene that presents concrete evidence of Flores’s point of view. This scene is placed near the end of Mr. and Mrs. Miller’s recollection of events. The music, is very film noir-like and compliments the underwhelming yet eccentric Emily Miller, all the while hardly being noticed. Mrs. Miller is recalling how she was able to get a better look at the suspect, rather than her husband, saying “This is how I got such a good look”. At that moment, the camera straight cuts to an extreme close up of Miller’s eyes. By doing so, Morris is almost making a mockery of her statement and then straight cuts to a recreation of the event, giving a fairly clear image of the supposed driver that Emily Miller proposes was Randall Adams. What’s interesting here is that in this view of the driver, the person is clearly a man with curly hair, a testament that was boggled from the series of misinformation, and likely a major aspect of Adams conviction. Though, other portrayals of the same scene, different recreation, purposely hide the face and hair from the viewer. Morris seemingly uses the number one eye witness and careful represents her and her statement using elements that give the audience uncertainty. This is an aspect of his filmmaking decisions that address his subtextual meaning. Even a little doubt in her statements will go a long way. Pair it with the other interviews and multiple other facets of filmmaking elements that show Emily Miller as erratic and untrustworthy, and not a single audience member will side with her story.


References:

                Flores, L. J. (2012). “The Thin Blue line and the Ambiguous Truth.” Student Pulse, 4(05). Retrieved from http://www.studentpulse.com/a?id=640

Monday, April 11, 2016

The close-up of close-ups and other great features of Once Upon a Time in the West



Title: The close-up of close-ups and other great features of Once Upon a Time in the West

Name: Elizabeth Moll

Personal Response to Film:
                Since I am forwardly a helpless romantic, no one would presume that my kryptonite is for Western-like movies.  Although I’m not usually captivated by Westerns that are tilted more toward traditional standards, I was quickly charmed by Once Upon a Time in the West’s main character, Harmonica, and the films’ rich plot.  For me, Once Upon a Time in the West hit all the fundamental criteria for a ‘Great’ film. It has an abundance of strong characters and symbols that enriched the films meaning. Furthermore, despite it’s slow moving storyline, typical for Western’s, it keeps the audience on their feet. We remain unsure of who exactly we’re rooting for and in the end actually feel sorry for characters that we despised at the beginning. Yes, I’m talking about poor Cheyenne. There is much to appreciate about this film, and a few of the characteristics really set it apart from classic Westerns and brought it parallel to my adoration of films like Hatfields and McCoys and Lawless.
                This film’s lack of dialogue is a critical point of view. More information is revealed between the words rather than the words themselves. This indicates that the film’s director, Sergio Leone, fantastically used the almost three-hour movie in a way that makes the audience pay more attention to what’s being done, rather than what’s being said. Considering that Westerns were a popular choice for silent films, I’m not all that surprised. However, I’ve had my fair share of watching Westerns and Once Upon a Time in the West tops most.
                Another aspect I feel added boundless value to the film and put it on the radar of ‘greatness’ is the characterization. Everyone from Sam to the barman to Frank and Jill, we’re spot on characters. There are well-developed round characters like Frank, Jill, Cheyenne, and Harmonica that are the core of the story. Then you have sub-important characters that add to the story, but are pretty much static. Then you have all the others that are briefly shown; they die in an exciting gun battle, like Cheyenne and Franks’ men, who are flat characters that never say anything, but it doesn’t matter because they move the story along. It’s
perfectly proportioned. We learn that we love to love certain characters and love to hate others in a seamlessly indulgent way.
                Leone directed this film that was pieced together flawlessly. For enjoyment it had a loaded plot, gunfights and a handsome lone wolf type character to avenge his brother’s death all while connecting the pieces to initiate the building of a new American town. From a critical perspective the reflection could go on and on. The trains, horses, guns and desert land make it a classic western. But the film also has numerous symbols that help create a double meaning that lines the story’s main plot. This film is one for the hearts and minds of Americans that will transcend time. Within Sweetwater lies the future of America, and like any great Western film, it was built upon the sweat and death of the good and bad guys.
Summary of Critical Article:
              



                John Fawell extensively analyzed director Sergio Leones’ use of close-ups in the film Once Upon a Time in the West. Fawell’s investigation into what many would consider an extensive use of close-ups gives a detailed interpretation of the impressive thoughtfulness behind Leone’s iconic film style. Pulling from a vast list of resourceful references, Fawell delves into this seemingly transparent topic by noting that despite being infamous, Leone’s close-ups are less than cherished by some. However, within those who can value this type of work, are individuals able to capture an entire story beyond the dialogue. According to Fawell (2005), Leone was particularly fascinated by eyes, saying that they “revealed ‘everything you need to know about the character … courage, fear, uncertainty, death’” (p. 139). Fawell strengthens this comment by later writing that “the implicit meaning of the words, and the most explicit meaning of the scene, is to be read in the two characters’ eyes.” (2005, p. 140). Additional exploration reveals that Leone uses close-ups as a benchmark for the types of actors he uses (or as Leone calls models). Leone tends to choose actors based upon their facial features rather than their ability to act (Fawell, 2005). Fawell uses the character Harmonica as an example of truly defining facial features. Bronson, who plays Harmonica in the film, has adoring facial features for this type of work with “its deep grooves and crevices” (Fawell, 2005, p. 143).  This same idea is extended to many other characters including Jill, Cheyenne, and Frank. Not only are they actor that can bring this additional meaning to the film, but they also have defining close-up that are particular to their character. Fawell goes on to consider not only what it’s like for Leone to choose actors, but also how actors react to this particular film style that Leone portrays in films like this one. This technique seems unattractive to actors that are unable to trust the camera, but who are also unable to let go as Leone directs (Fawell, 2005). Letting go, is a clear requirement for Leone as he “aim[s] to strip away imitative habits. He approached actors as he did the other aspects of his Western, as a restorer, returning them to their true quality.” (Fawell, 2005, p. 147). Fawell credits Leone with the ability to use his close-ups as a narrator for Once Upon a Time in the West, specifically praising him for the powerful way he uses the subtle features of not only actors, but of objects in a way that enchants the audience. 



Response to Critical Article:
                Fawell’s close-up of the close-ups was an inspiring journey through the films obvious use of details. It was clear that the close-ups were many and that they had the ability to story tell, but I failed to see how important it was from the director’s perspective. My first time viewing of a film is always for pure enjoyment. What did I like and hate about what I’ve seen? One thing I adored about this film was the quietness, particularly the way it was used in telling the story. I attribute this to Leone’s keen sense of particulars, but I lacked in understanding what exactly this meant to the director. Fawell wrote an exceptional review of this, from many angles. As I was reading through the first part of his chapter about why Leone does close-ups and how the characters had their own genre of close-ups, I started to ask myself what about the actor’s point of view? Are they credited for their part of the close-ups? Then right away Fawell went on to write how “the job of the director was to get past the actor’s accumulation of technique and to strike into this virgin territory” (Fawell, 2005, p. 147). It’s amazing how hard it is to just be. This, meaning that many actors need to unlearn what they have become accustomed to. Fawell quotes Leone saying that “The less you do in this film, the more you’ll benefit.” (2005, p. 146). I wish there was more for me to respond to, but I feel that Fawell hit all the major and minor aspects of close-ups giving a splendor of recognition to Leone’s brilliant directing. 

Consideration of Critic’s Use of Critical Frameworks/concepts:
                In his chapter of close-ups, Fawell was very accustomed to reviewing the film with a formalist eye. He critiqued the films use of close-ups through the patterns and meaning to the overall theme. He also took a lot of time researching Leone’s work in other movies, with actors in other movies and with different actors and film makers. That being said leads me to believe that there is a bit of historical approach to this analysis as well. Either way, the combination molded into a well-developed interpretation of Once Upon a Time in the West’s use of close-ups. 

Film Analysis:
                Sergio Leone was thoughtful when considering how to make a Western film look and feel like a real Western. There was a particular scene at the beginning of the movie that shouted Western and embraced a clear perspective that has the audience on edge. This is the bar scene where Harmonica is reintroduced. Cheyenne enters the bar just after escaping from the law.
                Staring from when Cheyenne first takes a drink, the audience is quickly given more information about what happed leading up to this point. Cheyenne takes a swig and his hands are still in cuffs. Now the audience knows that this person is an outlaw. The information sets up the tone for the scene. Simultaneously, the harmonica is playing which is an eerie (sometimes annoying) sound that becomes iconic throughout the film for introducing Harmonica’s presence, even when he’s not actually playing. Then Leone meticulously shoots back to back close up, head shots of certain characters. Again this is classic film shooting for Westerns, but emits a particular mood that is carried through the scene accompanied by the harmonica sound. The next shot is an over-the-shoulder moving shot giving an up close perspective. This shows where Cheyenne is going, but at the same time leaves the audience in an unnerving state. It’s important to note how dark the set is during this time. The low-key lightening is limited. During the moving shot, a glimpse of a lantern is shown and a window that is covered by tarp material. Again, adding to the ongoing sinister type feeling. Cheyenne stops and a straight cut moves the shot to his face, flushed to the left while the lantern is now also shown to the right of him. His particular facial movements and the next series of shots preempts the audience for what his next move is. Cheyenne pushes the light towards Harmonica and at the same time added background music booms as we are reintroduced. In an ever so brilliant way, Leone uses the light and opposing shadow from the lantern to light and shade Harmonica’s eyes during a close-up of his face, closing in on the mysterious Harmonica.

References:
Fawell, J. W. (2005). The art of Sergio Leone's Once upon a time in the West: A critical appreciation.
                Jefferson, NC: McFarland.