MYST Post #2: Lost In Translation

 I chose to watch "Lost in Translation." (Link to summary if needed: http://www.fandango.com/lostintranslation_v283628/plotsummary) In terms of my opinion regarding the picture's storyline, this one isn't so easy to put into words; as the film initially played, my aversion to the whole concept surrounding it grew with each passing scene. When Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson began singing karaoke to each other, it was officially a drawn-out, insincere love affair (in my mind). I had been put off by this genre even before I pressed play; I've never enjoyed romance films. With all of the new ideas and images filling people's minds every day, with all of this potential to share thoughts that have been especially crafted to society's current political, environmental, and emotional standpoints, why bother devoting time to creating a romance that, no matter how one tries to bend it, has been done so many times before? The concept of love stays constant within the world as a whole, absolutely constant. Sure, each individual experiences disparate forms of love at varying points of his or her life, but these emotions sit dormant within us until provoked to surface. Love is patient and never-fleeting, which is in contrast to the diminishing significance that frequently surrounds current events. Why not make a film to capture government shutdowns, the resignation of a Pope, a hostage crisis — that film will provide a necessary and effective encapsulation of situations just as important as finding "the perfect match." Romance and exploration and passion between humans is and has been at our disposal since the beginning of time. But I do understand. People are in love with love, it's a core part of who we are. Love is a powerful and ubiquitous theme, and audiences will never tire of it. I'm  just one opinion, but I had to get it out there, I guess.

Though I clearly had a difficult time getting past the content of the film, I did notice the way it was presented.

    One of the most prominent techniques employed throughout the film was asymmetrical imagery, which presumably represented the alienation and hopelessness felt by the main characters. It almost seemed to act as a cheat-sheet for the audience. Bill Murray looking listlessly out a car window at the overwhelming intensity of the city? Since his face is not centered, but instead off to the left, the rule of thirds has been violated. Not only this, but the remaining space in the shot is filled with an out-of-focus view of the city lights. What once would have been a fairly ordinary opening shot now clearly represents a disconnect between a man and his surroundings, which causes us to ask: why? Similarly, the scene in which Bill Murray is propped on the very right edge of his hotel room bed also blatantly signifies a sense of imbalance both on the bed and within the character's own mind. Bill Murray is constantly being short-changed by the camera — his head poking out from the side, and if he does become centered in the frame it will only be for a moment. This character is so constantly depicted as "half a man" that it is almost too obvious when his budding interactions with Johansson are continually portrayed as in focus and in balance. Good, he found his other half. Balance is restored.
     Another reoccurring technique that was utilized — a continuous exaggeration of Japanese stereotypes (as the film is set in Tokyo). This, again, created a sense of alienation in the characters from their surroundings, which more easily allowed them to gravitate toward each other. The acknowledgment of these stereotypes also provided a foundation on which the two could build their relationship, because the feeling of "belonging" was absent in both of them at that time.
    The majority of techniques found in "Lost In Translation" were selected for the sole purpose of emphasizing the emptiness and isolation and puzzlement felt by Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson until they found each other — long shots with lots of negative space, off-kilter camera angles, and prolonged close-ups.

   One scene that had an unusually strong impact on me involved Scarlet Johansson alone. Looking into the hotel mirror she begins to steadily apply a shade of lipstick, but this is done with a quiet intensity. Though the color was fairly neutral, the act still contrasted sharply with her choice of wardrobe, which consisted of a plain blue sweatshirt and a pair of underwear. Johansson then proceeds to adorn the hotel room with these peachy flowery chandelier-type ornaments, and then goes on to stub her toe on the way down from decorating. I don't know if it actually has any significant meaning within the film as a whole, but this scene really did stick out to me. I appreciated the idea of trying to add vitality to that which isn't so readily receiving it — putting lipstick on a woman who has nowhere to go, bringing life to a room which really doesn't accept it. There's this subtle, desperate sense of hope that weaves its way through the scene, and its simplicity was refreshing.

I couldn't get over my own disinterest in the genre itself, and that caused my appreciation of the acting and cinematic techniques to suffer.

Formal Film Study: Steven Spielberg

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom

The Color Purple

Empire of the Sun

 The theme of lost innocence (that is eventually regained) is one of the threads that ties these three films together.

This motif undoubtedly leaked its way into the forefront of both The Color Purple and Empire of the Sun, which allowed me to make the initial link. Its obvious prominence in the first two films led me to hope that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom would provide the same result so I could have a concrete connection to focus on in this blogpost. At first, I appeared to have no such luck — Indiana Jones is a full grown man: capable, admirable, and adventurous throughout his journey. But who says the main character should be the one embodying the main theme? (everyone) Sure, he risks his life to rescue famine-stricken villagers and liberate thousands of child slaves from the nefarious goddess Kali, whose followers have stolen the sacred Shivalinga in order to intensify the power of the dark night and ultimately destroy human purity as we know it...but is he really all that important? For the sake of being cohesive, let’s go with not at this very moment. The plot’s real value stems not from Jones’ own actions, but from those who are being impacted by the decisions he ultimately carries out. That is where the loss of innocence comes into play. Ah, the benefits of individual interpretation.

So now that I’ve managed to stretch that theme right into my third and final film, we’ll start with The Color Purple.

    The Color Purple follows the life of Celie, who has been physically, mentally, and sexually abused into submission by those who are supposed to love and protect her. After bearing her father’s two children, Celie is tossed into the hands of Albert. It is clear that this marriage is not comprised of compassion and affection, but fear and desperation. Happiness briefly takes the place of hopelessness when her sister visits, but this, too, fades quickly. When Shug Avery, Albert’s mistress and “true love”, comes to stay at his home, there is an obvious shift that begins to occur in Celie. The two women’s relationship grows stronger each day that they’re together, and Shug eventually helps Celie recover letters that Celie’s sister, Nettie, has been sending her for decades — letters that Albert has kept hidden away. Nettie is one of the few people that provides happiness and support to Celie, and this discovery leads to a sense of courage and motivation within herself. Celie finally leaves her abusive husband. 
It’s evident where lost innocence comes into play — Celie never had a childhood. Twice pregnant by fourteen and married off a year later, all she ever got to experience were hardships, and all she ever knew was “how to tell a lie.”  However, in this film, it appears that lost innocence is regained. I became most aware of this as I honed in on how Celie was portrayed before and after her discovery of Nettie’s letters (which spurred the shift from oppression to freedom). The younger Celie was silent, and expressed the majority of her thoughts and feelings through her “letters to God.” Also, she was often separated from others in one way or another: signaling to Nettie through windows, waving to others from behind a fence. Celie was never truly looked at, which was emphasized through her often being depicted as a shadow — she was never seen as just a child or just a girl, but as an ugly, worn-out housemaid, which is where her loss of innocence is evident. The most prominent way in which she begins to harness this sense of innocence again is through her conversation with Shug: “I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don’t notice it.” Shug instills in Celie the importance of appreciating every bit of every day in one’s life, which is exactly what Celie wasn’t given the opportunity to do early on. As she found the strength to escape the ones who kept her eyes down and her mind closed, the opportunity to enjoy every aspect of life presented itself. 

    Empire of the Sun also emphasizes lost innocence that is re-established in a bit of a crooked, morbid way. Jamie Graham did have a childhood (at least more so than Celie). However, it was never filled with the simplicity one assumes a childhood should; Jamie was overprotected and overprivileged, spending his boyhood in Shanghai International Settlement, constantly stimulated by luxury. The film takes place in 1941, shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. The Japanese begin to occupy the Settlement, chaos ensues, Jamie is separated from his parents and forced to remain in his now abandoned home. Eventually he is discovered and taken in by an American sailor, Basie, and a few of Basie’s friends. In order to keep from being abandoned once again, Jamie utilizes the only knowledge he possesses — where the men can locate opulent jewels and furnishings that fill the homes surrounding him. The wandering group is eventually found, captured, and taken to an Internment Camp, and this is where the idea of lost innocence comes into play. 

It is obvious that Jamie’s innocence was robbed of him during this invasion, but he, too, experiences a resurgence of this as he establishes a familiar way of life in the very unfamiliar circumstances: Jamie allows Dr. Rawlins, the camp’s medic, to develop into a makeshift father figure, and he befriends a Japanese boy from the other side of the camp, one with whom he can discuss his fascinations and aspirations. In a way, one could be convinced that the very situation that stripped away Jamie's innocence also provided the framework to his construction of a more inventive way to experience his surroundings, reflecting the expansive imagination a child often possesses.  
Given the bleak environment, there is no room for his usual cushioned, isolated way of thinking that wealth provided. Jamie had to be independent, he had to work thoughts and ideas through his head with no influence or assistance from the outside, so he had to escape into fantasy to better manage the brutal reality of his circumstance. A few examples that stuck out most in my mind were Jamie’s reaction to Japanese warplanes attacking an internment camp — the odd celebration of a surreal, dream-like scenario, and continued evasion of truth through his detached discussion of the ownership of the runway. Also, Jamie's newfound perception of death — in his mind, he holds the ability to resurrect those who have already passed. This certainly isn’t a conventional resurgence of innocence, because it was brought on by traumatic external pressures, but Jamie did uncover a part of his mind that provided  shelter from hardened reality. No, he did not have a completely innocent mind, but he learned to cope with reality in a pure, child-like manner.

We are so caught up in the idea that childhood is the only time in one’s life for observation and admiration of simplicity, that only in this critical period can one find herself noticing the color of each flower in a field, or find himself playing “God” in order to heal loved ones. Spielberg seems to enjoy introducing familiar, comfortable concepts and developing them in a way that forces the audience to evaluate its most unexplored components.

    Now, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom does embody the idea of stolen innocence being regained, though it has little to do with the main character, and more to do with those he is fighting for. Without getting into too much detail as to why Indiana Jones is there, the villagers he comes across have been plagued with famine; their plight has been linked to the increasing “power of the dark night” held by the Palace of Pankot. Within this palace is the Shivalinga, a sacred stone stolen from the villagers in order to appease the evil goddess Kali.

   As an audience, we tend to be very hyper-aware of the main character’s thoughts and actions, and tend to focus less on what’s going on around him or her. In the case of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, those in the background were absolutely essential in forwarding the storyline; therefore, we should provide them with just as much attention. There is a much more concrete “loss of innocence” moment in the villagers’ lives, which is when the Shivalinga** disappears. This stone, one of five, was appointed by Shiva to a man named Sankara, who was given the message that he must “go forth and battle evil with it.” The Shivalinga brought prosperity to the village, and was a complete representation of their most vital beliefs. Evil is the corruption and pollution of mind and body, so if the purpose of the Shivalinga is to destroy the evils of the world, it must be a stone of purity. Therefore, the loss of the stone signifies the loss of purity, or innocence, within the village. There was not only a loss of purity through the abduction of the Shivalinga, but also of the village’s children. Luckily Jones makes it his duty to travel through this Palace of Kali worshippers, and after eating monkey brains, and drinking Kali blood, and watching a man’s heart being pulled out of his chest, he succeeds in bringing back the lost innocence to the village once again. 

** http://indianajones.wikia.com/wiki/Sankara_Stones

1935 Film Group Project

 1. Since the storyline of "Sabotage and Salvation" has already been covered in class, I'll just recap: a married couple's relationship becomes turbulent after the wife's promiscuity has been indirectly revealed to the husband. He, in turn, utilizes a series of comedic ploys and disguises to weaken, and eventually break, her chance of successfully leading this secret double life. Despite all of the deceit within the film, the two eventually come clean to each other, allowing them to piece their marriage back together; enforcing a message that honesty and commitment can strengthen the bond of a weakened marriage is essential to the time period. Why is this important? It's just another way to make an unpleasant circumstance seem easier to swallow — the 1930s was filled with political tumult and economic complications. Not only was the Great Depression at its peak in America, but also fascist political movements were rising overseas; in an era of such uncertainty, audiences must have a way to ground themselves, and one of those ways is through film. Providing a sense of relief to the audience is accomplished in several ways. For example, adding a "realistic" look to the movie (not "glossy" like with Paramount) allows for a more authentic film. Then, one may subconsciously convince him or herself that a "small-scale" issue such as a rocky marriage is worthy of occupying space in one's mind; I know it seems pointless to be swapping one bad situation out for another, but I'm going to assume that the majority of people would rather focus on issues that can arise between husband and wife rather than the issues that were developing between the government and its citizens, or between nations. Finally, the "happy ending" provides a more concrete sense of solace because it instills the idea that even the toughest situation can be salvaged and repaired.

2. The film is a comedy. By taking a more serious storyline and intertwining silly disguises and slapstick routines, the audience is better able to accept and digest the reality of the message — not everything in life goes exactly according to plan. Also, our main actor, James Cagney, was well known for his comedic timing and constant stream of energy.

3. Warner Bros. Studio seemed like a very nice fit for our film. It was known for being dialogue-oriented. This is one of the most important reasons it was our studio of choice, because sound was only recently introduced into the film world before the 1930s. Because of sound, the audience no longer is given as much freedom to interpret what is occurring on-screen because the actors' words define exactly what their actions are meant to portray. Since it is most vital that our film ends on a high note in order to appeal to the masses, dialogue provides the perfect opportunity to avoid confusion about whether or not the couple had worked out the situation. Not only this, but Warner Bros. generally targeted social issues in their films. While we mainly focus on diverting attention away from political and economic turmoil, we also touch on the idea of gender equality; at this time, women were fighting to be considered just as capable as men. This is emphasized in "Sabotage and Salvation" through the wife's boldness in seeking another man, and her cleverness in having hidden it for so long (though these are more negative traits to possess in this situation, it still portrays a woman as something other than an obedient housewife).

4. We chose Ray Enright as our director because not only was he associated with Warner Bros., but also he specialized in a "fast-paced" style of film, which jives with the quickness of the sabotage scenes and the intensity of the dialogue. James Cagney, as stated above, was picked for his energetic performances and deadpan comic timing. Our main actress, Myrna Loy, had an exotic appearance — with such a mischievous female role having to be played, the audience may cope better with the idea of her being nonnative, so that they can still whole-heartedly believe in the purity of the American people. Cary Grant was chosen as the "secret lover" solely on his good looks. The focus of the film will be on editing, because it contains lots of rapid cuts and swift panning scenes in order to keep the audience fully engaged in the plot (Conrad A. Nervig employed for this because of his previous success in editing with the film "Eskimo").

5. The only issues that we may run into with the Hays Code are the idea of a woman selling her virtue, which could get us in trouble if someone brings to attention the fact that cheating = unfaithful = diminished purity, and the idea we may be tarnishing the institution of marriage, which is supposed to be considered a stable, successful, eternal bond.
*We are using black and white film*

6. I really agreed with most of the group's decisions for the film. If we were using a similar storyline but for a more current audience, I would say we need to have multiple characters' perspectives on the situation in order to get a better sense of how each is individually affected by that one secret. However, because the plot is already a bit crude and relatively new for the 1930s, having a clean-cut approach to the affair is better (less confusion). It's not like we would have won any major awards for this piece of work, but I think we did just fine for a week's worth of brainstorming.