Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Life is Beautiful


Roberto Benigni’s  La Vita e Bella (Life is Beautiful, 1997) is one of my all time favorite films because (excuse the cliché) it is, quite simply, a beautiful film. The story is heartwarming and original (won an Oscar for Best Foreign Film), the acting is wonderful (Benigni, who also plays the main character, won the Oscar for Best Actor) and the score is superb (Nicola Piovani won an Oscar for the Best Original Dramatic Score).  It is a wonderful balance of comedy and tragedy and will make you laugh and cry from both tears of joy, and grief.
The story is essentially split into two parts, the first involving our hero, Guido (Roberto Benigni) attempting to romance his “principessa,” an engaged schoolteacher, Dora (Nicoletta Braschi). The comedy and romance is perfectly done, and the chemistry between the real-life couple is lovely to watch. Dora falls in love with Guido’s charm and good heart, and the story skips ahead 5 years to their life together with their son Giosue (Guido and Dora disappear into a greenhouse when he finally wins her over, and seemingly a few moments later, out comes a little boy, it was a great way to show the passing of time). This is where the “heartwarming” description might get confusing, for we are now introduced to the fact that this isn’t a romantic comedy, but a Holocaust drama. Yes, it is a drama due to the intense subject matter, but it is still a comedy as well and is successful in that aspect without belittling the tragic nature of the Holocaust. Guido is in fact a Jewish man, and him and Giosue are taken away to a concentration camp and Dora follows suit, even though she is not Jewish, because she refuses to be separated from her family.
            Guido spends their time at the camp protecting Giosue from the horror by pretending that they are competing in a game where the grand prize is a real-life tank and succeeds in hiding him from the Nazis (while the other children are taken to the gas chambers). Roberto displays his comedic prowess with his slapstick techniques and despite the horrors surrounding them it is heartwarming to watch his determination to protect is son’s innocence. The love he has for his family gives him courage. One scene is particularly touching and is helped through the beautiful score by Nicola Piovani: Guido risks his life to communicate to his wife that he is okay by playing their song on a phonograph, and we watch as time pause as the two of them think of one another. The spirit of this original screenplay is extremely uplifting, showing the power of love and hope even in the darkest of times. It does not mean to belittle the Holocaust in any way, but is a story about hope and the message of love is what is relayed. To Giosue (at the time, for we hear at the end the story being told by an adult Giosue who speaks of his father’s sacrifice) the Holocaust wasn’t real, but it was to the audience as we still see the horrific reality in the conditions of the camp and the fact that this evil is splitting up this beautiful family. We could see that it certainly real for Guido and Dora, however. Guido is making his son laugh up until the very end, when the camp is being shut down amidst chaos as the Americans approach. Guido tells Giosue to hide in a sweatbox until everybody is gone (the last act, and then they win the tank) and is caught while he attempts to find Dora. Giosue watches as his father marches away in an exaggerated goose-step for his enjoyment, despite the fact that Guido knows he is marching to his death (Guido is killed off screen). Giosue comes out when the camp is empty and is rescued by American soldiers in a tank. During his ride home, he spots his mom in the line of rescued prisoners screaming: “We won!” and Piovani’s score is just perfect in evoking the right emotion (pretty much making you bawl your eyes out). The sacrifice Guido made for his family is heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time, and the message of the film is in the title: life is beautiful. You can not watch Life is Beautiful and leave without that message, and Benigni is the mastermind behind it all, having written, directed, and starred 

Jaws


The premise of Jaws- a giant, man-eating shark wreaks havoc on the locals of small town Amity and the numerous tourists visiting for the 4th of July-could lend one to believe (if knowing nothing else about Jaws) that this is another cheesy, typical “B” film “monster-movie.” This is certainly not the case, seeing as how Jaws essentially launched Steven Spielberg’s career (he was 26 at the time of directing it) and it made him a household name. Jaws is considered by many to be a masterpiece, and one of the most noted aspects of the film is how effective the tension and suspense is, owing greatly to the fact that the shark isn’t revealed until the end of the film.  Was this an ingenious creative decision by Spielberg? No. It was actually due to technical problems they were experiencing with the animatronic shark. It was, in a sense, a happy accident, but does this diminish Spielberg’s credit in directing what some believe is the greatest movie ever made? It shouldn’t, because Jaws and his following hits have given him the title, in many peoples’ eyes, the “King of Hollywood.” Spielberg turned the shark issue around by utilizing underwater shark POV shots in combination with John Williams infamous score to help instill the fear in the audience and build on the theme of “the fear of the unknown.”  The late reveal of the shark was not the only great element in the movie, for story and dialogue, editing, acting, music and sound all come together to make this an exciting, well crafted film.
            One of the things that makes this such a good film goes down to the blueprint itself- the script. The dialogue is just really good and the characters are extremely likeable and interesting, and the actors do a great job bringing them to life and making them believable. The story is essentially in two parts, with the first being the fight not against the shark, but the mayor who is greedy and puts tourism sales over the safety of human lives. He refuses to listen to our hero, sheriff Brody (Roy Schneider) and fails to see sense when he allows the beaches to remain open. Brody is a genuinely nice guy and a good sheriff, for he cares about his town’s people and is determined to protect them. While he is essentially in a battle with the mayor, the shark continues to fest on the innocent people of Amity and tourists alike. Eventually the mayor must admit defeat and the real battle against the shark has begun, where Brody must face his biggest fear (the water) to save his town. The last 45 minutes of the film we are with Brody, Quint (the sailor hired to kill the shark, played by Robert Shaw), and Hooper (marine biologist played by Richard Dreyfuss) aboard Quint’s vessel on their shark hunt. Here we bear witness to how well these actors play off each other. Although this is a horror film, Spielberg is smart to include some dark comedy that has left us with some memorable lines, such as the famous: “You’re going to need a bigger boat.”
            The technical aspects of Jaws were also very important in making this film a huge success. The editing is integral to the tension building, with the juxtaposition of the shark POV shots and famous theme helping to build suspense. There are also a lot of cuts that are in unnatural and do not seem to make sense-but they are that way for a reason: to put the audience on edge. One also can not comment on the editing and cinematography of Jaws without mentioning the famous “vertigo” shot, which is successful in capturing Brody’s reaction to the attack and effective at making the audience uncomfortable.
            This production was not smooth sailing-it faced a lot of issues and Spielberg was feared he would be taken off the project for going over schedule and budget, but Spielberg’s choices were for the better and his determination to shoot it the right way is what helped make the film so great. For example, studios advised Spielberg not to shoot on the actual sea but he ignored this, despite all of the logistical problems the ocean proved to provide. Imagine, though, Jaws shot in a studio tank? The success of the film proved that his choices were the right ones, and thank goodness for that for the world would have missed classics such as E.T., Jurassic Park, and Indiana Jones.
            

Children of Men



When I first watched Alfonso Cuaron’s  Children of Men (2006) I felt like I was having an anxiety attack for most of the film. This isn’t meant to be negative; in fact, it is actually a good thing! I found myself telling people afterwards about my experience and reasons why they should see it, using the word “anxiety” as a convincing term. Normally people would take that as an unpleasant feeling, but the thing is, this was just a way to get across just how real the film feels. Yes, I felt nervous and a bit stressed while watching, but that is part of the experience. Cuaron (Y tu mama tambien, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) and his team (with cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki- Y tu mama tambien, Sleepy Hollow) created a film that really made you forget that you were even watching a movie at all. The cinematography, art direction, sound, editing, and acting all come together to effectively take you on a thrilling journey through a dystopian world and leave you to think about today’s society.
The story starts in London, year 2027. We hear what is going on before we see it- a news report of the death of the youngest person on the planet-an 18 year old boy, Diego. For 18 years women have been infertile and the world is now in turmoil but we are reminded through public service announcements that “Only Britain soldiers on.” Great Britain is at war with immigrants seeking refuge in their land. An activist group fighting for Immigrant rights, the Fishes, led by Julian (Julianne Moore) kidnaps Theo (Clive Owen) to help them get transit papers for a young refugee, Kee. Theo (who has history with Julian as his ex-wife; they lost a child together) reluctantly agrees to ask his cousin Nigel, who is with the government, to obtain the papers. The papers specifically state that he must accompany the refugee, so Theo travels to the coast with Julian, Kee, Miriam (the former midwife played by Pam Ferris) and Luke (Julian’s associate).  They are ambushed by a mob and Julian is killed, and while the rest of the group is hiding out at Fishes’ safe-house, Kee reveals to Theo that she is 8 months pregnant. Later that night, Theo overhears that Julian’s murder was arranged by the Fishes so that they could use Kee’s baby as political leverage. Theo awakes Kee and together with Miriam they escape the safe-house and head to hide out at the home of Theo’s friend, Jasper (Michael Caine). Jasper promises to help them meet a ship that will take them to a group that is dedicated to restoring human fertility called The Human Project. He arranges for his friend Syd to help them get into an immigrant camp and from there they will take a boat out to meet the Human Project ship, the Tomorrow.  The Fishes find Jasper’s hidden home and Jasper gives Theo his car to escape. As they are escaping, Theo watches as Jasper is murdered by the Fishes. With Syd’s help, they make it into the refugee camp and are separated from Miriam. At this point, Kee is in labor and they meet a refugee woman, Marichka, who takes them somewhere hidden where Kee gives birth to a baby girl. An uprising breaks out in the camp and The Fishes arrive. They find Kee and Theo and take Kee and the baby, leaving Theo and Marichka to be executed. Under cover of the now intense fighting between the British forces and the Fishes, Theo and Marichka escape and rescue Kee from Luke, who attempts to shoot them. The three of them walk through the raging battle outside and the fighting stops as everyone stares in awe at the baby. They let them pass, the fighting resumes, and they make it to the rowboat and out into the harbor (Marichka stays behind of her own volition) and wait by the buoy rendezvous point for the Tomorrow. It is revealed that Theo was hit by a bullet in the abdomen, and he uses his last moments to teach Kee how to burp the baby. Kee tells Theo she will name the baby Dylan after his son and Theo looses consciousness just as the Tomorrow arrives.
In the beginning of the film, Theo has no hope. He lost his faith when he lost his son, but as he goes on this journey to help save Kee’s baby we see him regain it. This movie explores themes of immigration, infertility, hope, and faith. This premise of infertility can be seen as a metaphor for the fading sense of hope: The youngest person on earth dies, and the world is in turmoil but there is hope in Kee’s baby and our hero finds hope and purpose in his life. It seems as if Alfonso Cuaron used this idea of a fading sense of hope to perhaps explore the state of things we are living in now. Maybe he is saying that we need to fix the world we have broken. Throughout the film you can spot an animal in almost every shot. These are the peoples’ children now and we seem to be the only infertile species-we will perish while they are left in this mess (we did this to ourselves).
Through his creative decisions Cuaron makes a movie that seems so real, you can’t help but think after watching: can this really happen?  When we are introduced to our hero, Theo, he is in a café as Londoners are watching the news of the death of baby Diego. The de-saturated color tone of the film reflects Theo’s mood and the tone of society and we can see that although this is taking place in the future, it does not look futuristic. Although grimier and disordered, it has the general look of today’s society to make it relatable. It is technically classified as a “dystopian sci-fi,” but Cuaron strived to break out of the parameters of that genre.
Seconds after Theo walks out of the shop, a bomb tears the place apart. Right away we are able to see how the cinematography and sound design really helps to put you into the moment. The camera is following Theo at a distance (which it does throughout the movie, following behind him, tracking, etc) but gets closer to see his reaction to his near death experience and hear what he hears-everything is muted except for the ringing from the explosion, which continues all the way until he reaches his office job. When the sound goes out like that and we only hear ringing, it instills a feeling of anxiety in the viewer. This is also utilized when Julian gets shot in the car. The car scene also involves the most impressive “oner” in the movie. This film is full of long takes, since the absence of cuts are used to achieve a documentary-like feel (this is also enhanced though the extensive use of handheld/shaky camera techniques). These styles evoke cinema verite-which means truthful cinema. Cuaron wants you to believe this is reality.
There is an opera theme throughout the film that symbolizes both hope and grief. We hear it when Theo is mourning Julian in the woods, when Theo watches as Jasper is murdered, when Kee is giving birth, when Kee, Theo and the baby are walking through the stunned fighters in the refugee camp, and when the Tomorrow comes to rescue Kee. It transitions from moments of grief, to moments of hope at the end. The soundtrack and score connects you to the film emotionally, while the sound effects are used to keep you in the moment and make you as anxious and nervous as the characters on screen.
The camera is also used to heighten the audience’s senses by instilling fear and transporting you into the film’s world. One of the most intense scenes I have ever seen/felt in any movie is towards the end when our heroes are running through the streets of the refugee camp amidst the ongoing battle. We really feel like we are following Theo because of the shaky camera and it helps create the chaotic atmosphere. Not only that, but once again here is another extremely long take because it is very important nothing interrupts the audience’s connection with the scene (or else we wouldn’t feel as nervous and frightened). Blood splatters onto the lens at some point and it actually stays there for the next couple of minutes. If Theo looks at something the camera pans to what he is looking at an back (instead of cutting). Cuaron and Lubezki make it a point to take the audience on a journey with Theo and it experience what Theo is experiencing, while at the same time seeing his emotional journey by not always seeing things from his point of view but focusing on his reaction while things happen in the background. Back in the safehouse, we are with Theo as he is hiding behind a wall as he is listening to the Fishes’ plans for him and Kee. We feel as if we are hiding with him because there are no cuts to a two-shot of the conversing persons, but rather we only see them in the background as we would if we were there standing with Theo.
There is a magnificent shot that symbolizes the whole premise of hope and it is during the scene when the trio (Kee, Miriam, and Theo) stop at an abandoned school to wait for Syd. Kee is outside on the playground and inside, Miriam is telling Theo of her work as a midwife and all of the miscarriages she saw at the beginning of the infertility. We hear their conversation as we see a beautiful shot of Kee on the swing set through a broken window which symbolizes the fact that hope is shattered if Kee is lost-she is the last hope. Before this scene Theo says this: “I can’t really remember the last time I had any hope, and I certainly don’t remember when anybody else did either. Because really, since women stopped being able to have babies, what’s left to hope for?” Theo sees through that window that Kee truly is their last hope.
Not only does Children of Men take you on an exciting journey- it is a beautiful piece of art. All of the technical elements come together to create a film that is not only moving, but beautiful to look at and wonderful to experience.


The Diving Bell and the Butterfly


            To say it is difficult to imagine what it would be like to be paralyzed from head to toe is truly an understatement, though “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” certainly gives you a fair idea. This film chronicles the life of Jean Dominique Bauby, past editor-in-chief of French Elle, after he suffers a severe stroke that leaves him completely paralyzed, with the exception of his left eye. With the help of his speech therapist, Jean-Do uses the blinking of his eye to communicate. She devised a system in which the French alphabet is recited to Jean-Do, who blinks to select the letters he wishes to communicate. This is how he “writes” his memoir of the same name, which this film is based upon. Through cinematic elements, such as cinematography, editing, and acting, director Julian Schnabel and his crew effectively put the audience in the shoes of Jean-Dominique Bauby, leaving the viewer with a greater sense of appreciation of what one has, and what one can have and experience.
            The film starts with Jean-Do awakening from a coma, though the audience isn’t aware of this yet, for they are in a sense Jean-Do himself. It is shot in his point-of-view, and for the first twenty minutes or so, the images are out of focus and shaky. Everything on the screen is what he sees and hears: doctors’ faces are swimming in and out of focus, the screen flashes white as a light is shined in Jean-Do’s eye (the camera), colors bleed as he blinks, and the image fades in and out. Often just the eye and part of the face of a doctor is in frame, or a mouth, for they are speaking very close to Jean-Do’s face. The editing is also used as a tool to help simulate Jean-Do’s POV. When he closes his eyes, it is a cut, and when he opens it again you’re in another place. This is used to alternate between reality and his imagination. The cuts are also abrupt. His memories are vivid and usually accompanied by upbeat music, then, it cuts to reality and subdued voices or silence. The editing is jarring at times, especially in the opening sequence. These approaches are effective in making one feel very uncomfortable and disorientated, and truly aids in the attempt to make the audience empathize with Jean-Do by allowing them to experience what he is seeing. If the viewer is frustrated by this view they can only imagine what it must have been like for Jean-Do. Another instance of frustration shared by the audience and Jean-Do is when he is being wheeled out to see his ex for the first time. He catches unclear glimpses of himself in the hallway. Curiosity is instilled in the viewer, and the audience wants to see more clearly but is unable to, just in the same way that Jean-Do is unable to ask to stop to look at his reflection. Hearing his thoughts while seeing what he is seeing helps the viewer get closer to Jean-Do and more emotionally attached to the story.
 Janusz Kaminski, the Director of Photography, was nominated for an Academy Award for this film’s beautiful imagery. His innovative cinematographic techniques help create the unique look of the film. To simulate the blink of the eye, he would sometimes close two fingers in front of the lens. Some blinks were made in post, but for the most part he tried to keep the effects as organic as possible; too many digital manipulations can detract from the story. He also used Vaseline on the lens, played with shutter degree and camera speed, and even used a hand cranked camera for the ending scene. One particularly visually interesting scene was the sewing up of Jean-Do’s right eye. The audience is still seeing everything through Jean-Do’s POV, and this look was achieved by putting prosthetic flesh over the lens, and actually sewing it up. It is a very claustrophobic and uncomfortable experience; seeing the doctor and his blinding flashlight through the closing slit, all the while hearing Jean-Do’s thoughts, his gasps and pleads against the action. Along with the camera, lighting and color affect emotion by helping to establish a mood. They also help differentiate between reality and Jean-Do’s thoughts and memories. The hospital room is always bathed in natural, soft light. The story is not meant to depress and the lighting reflects that; though when there is a particularly emotional scene, such as the phone conversation with his father, high-contrast lighting is used to add to the drama and intensity of the scene. The colors in his reality are a bit de-saturated, while they are warmer and more vivid in his imagination sequences. His imagination and memories give him hope: “Two things aren’t paralyzed, my imagination and my memory.” They represent the butterfly, his escape from reality- the diving bell. The colors and lighting help depict these metaphors.
Along with the camera and editing techniques, other techniques were used to help the acting feel as natural as possible to help engage the viewer. With Jean-Do’s POV shots the actors spoke into the camera, which is already difficult because actors are trained not to look at the camera, but they perform admirably. Mathieu Amalric (Jean-do) was in a sound booth during the filming of these scenes. He watched on a monitor the action happening and responded accordingly by ad-libbing. Mathieu Amalric also gives a great performance in the third person POV shots. Though there is no movement on his part, it is difficult to keep still while conveying all emotion through his one eye. The heart wrenching scene where his father calls him really exemplifies this, and he is effective at evoking emotion (along with the great performance by Max von Sydow, who plays his father).
            This film depicts the strength of the human mind and spirit. Jean-Dominique Bauby is trapped in his own body, the diving bell, and is able to find hope through his imagination and memory, the butterfly.  Through beautiful images, unique camera perspective and editing, and great performances this film engages the audience emotionally, intellectually, and visually.