Dark Side of the Music

MASSEYSAnimated musicals such as The Beatles’ Yellow Submarine (1968) and Daft Punk’s Interstella 5555 (2003) are in debt to the early animated cartoons of the Hollywood studio era. The fusions of animation and music date back to the Hollywood studio cartoons, which often foregrounded the audio component of film, and much like these contemporary, animated, rock–operas, delivered the music through a self-reflexive medium. Hollywood cartoons utilize many different types of distanciation effects in order to create pleasure for the viewer. Live-action can also create self-reflexive films, yet they are more textual and visually based. Cartoons, in addition to visual gags, direct address and other Brechtian techniques employ music as a major tool in their self-referentiality through synchronization. The animation that is targeted does not include the early silent films consisting of lightning hand sketches or rebellious characters, as in Fleischer’s Out of the Inkwell series. These films, by containing live-action, are already blatant in their exposure of animation as a medium. The cartoons suggested in this paper reflect the shorts that offer a supposed, enclosed diegetic space.

Before any analysis of cartoon’s reflexivity can proceed, it is more important to highlight the role of music in animation. The relation between sound and cartoon image began with Max Fleischer’s bouncing ball cartoons. These cartoons, while not providing a true, enclosed, diegetic space, did present an alternative space from the real that was later integrated with the audience to create the sing-a-long. One of these sing-a-longs was Mariutch (1933). In this short, a sequence is shown to illustrate the lyrics before the main character turns to the audience and asks them to sing along. This element of vaudeville later turned into the lyrical representation of the Betty Boop cartoons, Disney’s Silly Symphonies, and the Merrie Melodies, along with other smaller independent’s efforts, most notably Ub Iwerks.

Fleischer’s musical cartoons strove to create a harmony between sounds and images, often relying upon the lyrics of the song to dictate the content of the plot. Some cartoons that would have fallen into this category were lyrical cartoons, such as Betty Boop’s Snow White (1933) and Walter Lantz’s Scrub Me Mama With a Boogie Beat (1941). Jazz songs in cartoons acted “…simultaneously as the inspiration for the narrative and as the explicit source of the rhythm and pacing for each short” (Goldmark, 78). Max Fleischer’s cartoons perfected this style in his Betty Boop series. In Snow White (1933), Koko’s ghost transforms to visually express the lyrics of the song. Each shot would cut with each new lyric, a technique also used in the Lantz cartoons. In another short, Old Man of the Mountain (1933) the plot of the movie is a direct interpretation of Cab Calloway’s song. The use of popular songs also added to the pleasure of the spectator through their foreknowledge, exemplified in the use of the song in the cartoon of the same name, Minnie the Moocher (1932). The cartoon was also a venue for the performance and distribution of jazz in the late twenties and thirties. By working with such big artists as Louis Armstrong, Fats Waller and Cab Calloway, Fleischer’s studio was able to capitalize on the popular music, as the artists’ garnered exposure. “Once the Fleischer’s chose a song…, the writers constructed a story that made the performance of the song the centerpiece of the short. That the song’s title usually was borrowed for the cartoon’s title – as just one way in which such cartoons help publicize…” (Goldmark, 84). Warner Bros. studios, in comparison, featured many well known songs but these were normally traditional or classical pieces that were part of an archival collection.

Music also helped establish the environment of cartoons. Music as subject matter lasted until around 1933, when the chase cartoon was popularized (Sartin, 69). Many cartoons, before the chase, were structured around the basic narrative of an equilibrium being disrupted, creating the cause-effect chain of the plot to regain balance. This premise was especially popular in Ising and Freleng’s Merrie Melodies and some Silly Symphonies (Barrier, 327). Silly Symphonies in particular, would leave dialogue and motive out of the cartoon for an extended period at the beginning, allowing the music to become foregrounded within the medium. In Disney’s The Old Mill (1937), the opening sequence consists of five establishing shots and some shots of the animals that inhabit the mill before the frog song, and the introduction of the plot. Here, sound effects are minimal, only appearing for creatures within the frame, while the background music is quite loud. The lack of diegetic sound effects thrusts the music to the viewer’s attention. The foregrounding of music was also used in many Mickey Mouse cartoons. An obvious example is The Band Concert (1935), where the viewer is presented with a diegetic source of music that pervades throughout the cartoon. In this cartoon, the music is represented literally through Mickey’s band. In other cartoons, the mise-en-scene is utilized to create the cartoon’s music. “Often, these musical performances rely on the improvisational use of found objects” (Sartin, 79), displayed in Steamboat Willie (1929) where Mickey uses a cat’s tail as a cello, or in Fleischer’s Betty Boop and Grampy (1935) where Grampy constructs self-playing instruments out of household objects.

Warner also used sound to set the mood of a cartoon by drawing “…heavily on classical references and the studio’s catalog of copyrighted pop tunes to accentuate…” (Germain, para 17). Carl Stalling was a master of synchronizing animation to sound. Stalling was able to organize the Hollywood catalog to provide purposeful, musical accompaniments to the Warner Bros shorts. “Whenever Bugs Bunny wore red when he appeared in drag, Stalling highlighted it with stands from ‘Lady in Red’” (Germain, para 17). These snippets of songs were compiled with abstract orchestration that punctuate certain gesture and casual actions within the cartoon, or emphasized certain graceful movements. These songs added to the overall mood of the cartoon. Certain musical instruments or selections blatantly identified typographic characters to the audience in order to speed up the short’s premises or gags. Often lower toned instruments and percussions represent the villains, brass to represent the hero. and woodwinds to represent the innocent. Some cartoons even use music to identify it’s main characters, as in the prancing song of Pepe le Pew in For Scent-imental Reasons (1949) as he chases the cat, and Marvin the Martian’s high note, quick-stepping in Duck Dodgers in the 241/2 Century (1952).

This action is only slightly effective when compared to how cartoons produce self-referentiality via referencing its own medium, using direct address and commenting on other cartoon shorts and high arts. Within the medium of cartoons, there exist a subset of techniques which are self-reflexive, namely the spot gag, the presence of fictional audiences, and the chase cartoon. All of these techniques serve to distanciate the viewer from the text. Brecht’s “distanciation” desired that they audiences never forgot they were at the theatre (Dort, 237). By consistently causing the spectator to be aware of their position as a spectator, their interaction with the text, would create the true pleasure. Using Brecht’s theories, animation’s main intent should be to cause the spectator to realize that they are a person sitting in a theatre, watching an animated cartoon that was created by a team of animators and is being projected onto a screen before them. He wants to make the spectator “…attempt to understand the work…at the level of its meaning…as mediation” (Dort, 244). Animation, in contrast to most live-action film, utilizes this theory by consistently self-referencing itself. Many cartoons rely upon this notion of exposure in order to produce gags and punchlines.

Films reveal their methods of filmmaking in three ways: “…by commenting on filmmaking and the film industry and by unveiling the raw materials…, the ability to function as discourse, speaking directly to their audience… [and] to their creators” (Lindvall, 16). These methods can be seen in the ultimate self-reflexive cartoon Duck Amuck (1953). This short directly references the background, costumes and story of the cartoon. These are accompanied by references to sounds through Daffy’s altered speech, the frame, as it collapses, along with Daffy’s struggle for a close-up. The pencil that intervenes to construct Daffy’s problems, serves as the cartoon’s acknowledgment of it’s’ creator, Bugs, who finishes the cartoon with a direct reference to the audience. Direct address can also be used to construct an entire short, as in Wabbit Trouble (1941), where Bugs tortures Elmer to our delight.

Along with commenting on the medium directly, shorts can also reference its own construction by acknowledging other art forms. In Tex Avery’s 1944 Hollywood Steps Out, celebrities are referenced based on “…playfully coded references to the cultural texts of Hollywood” (Lindvall, 17). In The Rabbit of Seville (1949), as the orchestra warms up, the framing of the violin bows create a reference to one of the early abstract segments of Fantasia (1940).

Shorts can also be self-referential without exposing the medium. The chase format utilized the farcity of metamorphosis, alienating in its own right, as well motion to create humour. “The chase…displayed the machinery of animation… [as] characters were not expected to be thinking as they ran in cycle” (Klein, 165). The cycled background, while not a direct announcement of the falsity of the image, did present a fanciful moment within otherwise dialogical sequence. Hank Sartin states, "In the lexicon of modern art, [the chase] qualifies as Brechtian defamiliarization" (164).

The chase gag could also contain spot gags that can act to distanciate the viewer. A spot gag occurs when “…the colourful and imaginative aspects of the verbal fuel the surreality of the visual, rendering the literal depiction of impossible similes and metaphors amusing” (Wells, 144). Spot gags are often repeated through a sequence building in intensity at each incident. The use of such gags as a “…quick action, the repeated action, the unexpected action …will force itself on our mind and unbalance the mental equilibrium” (Munsterberg, 81). These repeated gags occur in most Warner cartoons. In Duck Dodgers in the 241/2 Century (1952), the back and forth between Daffy and Marvin works to construct the repeated gag of the disintegration and ultimatum pistols.

While cartoons utilize the theories and techniques that Bertold Brecht idealize, they all are not similar to Brecht’s desire for social change. Dana Polan discusses Brecht’s ideas and political implication with specific interest to animated cartons. Polan illustrates his arguments using Duck Amuck (1953). Polan agrees describing the cartoon as “a virtual culmination of the experimental possibilities of Hollywood cartoon. The subject of the cartoon is the nature of animation technique itself” (667). While some cartoons are intended for political purposes as in Victory through Air Power (1943), others are simply playful. “Brecht also sees a distance between art and political art. Art automatically embodies a distancing, a making strange. But there’s nothing yet political about that. To be political, art for Brecht was to be made so” (Polan, 669). Polan suggests that even though Duck Amuck (1953) is a metaphor for the fusions of life…it fails to examine [the] confusion through a political perspective. Duck Amuck closes in on itself, fiction leads to and springs from fiction” (668). This ability to contain the elements and pleasures of distanciation within the medium are the basis for the pleasure of synchronization.

The co-ordination of music with image relies upon the importance of music in cartoons, and it’s exposure of movement. Normally, music in cinema is created to accompany the image, but only in an invisible manner. It should accentuate the image, while never exposing itself. In cartoons, however, music is synchronized with the image whereby all the movement onscreen is co-ordinated with the musical notes. Synchronization is often overlooked how it can provide pleasure for the spectator. By representing itself through the movement onscreen, music can become the main attraction of a cartoon. Hugo Munsterberg’s work, “The Photoplay” A Psychological Study,” on attention and movement in cinema, can help display how music can distract the spectator from the text by exposing the craft in drawings that fundamentally serve as visualizations of notes, which inadvertently shifts the emphasis of the cartoon to the music, from the image.

Munsterbeg outlines the direction of attention as one of the main formal elements in films. “Of all internal functions that create the meaning of the world around us, the most central is the attention…” (Munsterberg, 78). Within the category of what holds our attention, there is voluntary and involuntary looking. Opposed to what we consciously accept as the target of our interest, involuntary attention is “…the events which we perceive. What is loud and shining and unusual attracts our involuntary attention” (80). This notion is directly applicable to the contrast in moving elements in the foreground and the dull economic backgrounds. “Whatever is focused by our attention wins emphasis and irradiates over the course of events” (80). Here, focus can not only apply to the idea of interested but more importantly, to the clarity of certain objects. In I’ll Be Glad When You’re Dead You Rascal You (1932) and Red Hot Riding Hood (1943) the main characters are differentiated from the backgrounds by the sharp outlines of the characters in comparison with the bland lines that define the background. Characters can also be separated due to the strong contrast in colours, most notable in Disney cartoons where bold colours are placed in front of pastel shading. Looney Tunes tend to separate their characters with blurred and solid toned backgrounds.

Instead of mainly focusing upon the character and the plot of the cartoon, the spectator is distracted even further by the constant movement of the character to the music. The first cartoon to fully synchronize music was Steamboat Willie (1928), where Mickey dances and whistles. Each instrument that is part of the music is presented through Mickey’s body. Mickey’s hips move to the rhythm, his lips represent the whistling, and his tapping toe provides the low notes that comprise the tempo. Another early Disney cartoon was the Silly Symphony Egyptian Melodies (1931) where two chariots race along the frescos of a temple. The percussion instruments are represented in the horses' gallop, and the remaining instruments jump in at a cut which presents cheering soldiers that stomp and cheer in tune with the brass instruments and bass drums. In contrast to these musical shorts, Wabbit Trouble (1941) contains abstract music that is joined together by samples of other songs. As Elmer is waking up from his fake nap, he walks in time with the rhythm of the song to wash his face, tossing his towel over a branch on the end note of a musical meter. He then rolls up his sleeves time with newly introduced brass instruments, and as he lathers up his face, the string section takes the lead of the song. Even as Bugs leads Elmer to the cliff, a close-up of his face shows Bugs bobbing to the beat and his ears turning on every other note. Throughout Elmer’s walking, there is no dialogue, which enforces the music as “…the absence of words brings the movements which we see to still greater prominence in our mind” (Munsterberg, 83).

The movements that display these instruments contain a self-referentiality by causing the spectator to imagine the instrument creating the music, much like how direct address causes the viewer to imagine the camera that is photographing the image. The music provided in these cartoons is carefully created in order to allow for the greatest possible synchronicity. Carl Stalling’s music was “…created to be listened to as music, as opposed to part of a larger piece of art” (Salamon, para 10). Many studios often treated the music as a key point in the production process, using music sheets that provided small storyboards in order to track key plot points or movements (Klein, 156), or to arrange differences in tempo to accompany the plot (Salamon, para 3). The awareness in the spectator of witnessing the successful fusion of image and sound, allows a greater level of pleasure to be created.

While not every cartoon contains music, such as those that consist entirely of orchestrated sound effects, the shorts that do contain music are produced and received in particular fashions. Music plays an important role in animation, by foregrounding the medium of the cartoon through synchronization. Even though it is known that music plays a large role in cartoons, its function as a distanciation effect via synchronization is still unrecognized. Hopefully by researching more information on the relationship between sound and image, synchronized cartoons can become more than a novelty in animation.
Bibliography
1. The Band Concert. Dir. Wilfred Jackson. US, 1935.
2. Betty Boop and Grampy. Dir. Dave Fleischer. US, 1935.
3. Betty Boop’s Snow White. Dir. Dave Fleischer. US, 1933.
4. Dort, Bernard. “Bernard Dort: ‘Towards a Brechtian Criticism of Cinema,’” in Cahiers du Cinema: The 1960s – New Wave, New Cinema, Re-evaluating Hollywood. Ed. James Hillier. Cambridge, Ma: Harvard University Press, 1986. pp.236-247.
5. Duck Amuck. Dir. Chuck Jones. US, 1953.
6. Duck Dodgers in the 24 ½ Century. Dir. Chuck Jones. US, 1953.
7. Egyptian Melodies. Dir. Wilfred Jackson. US, 1931.
8. Fantasia. Dir. Disney/Various. US, 1940.
9. For Scent-imental Reasons. Dir. Chuck Jones. US, 1949.
10. Germain, David. "Tunes for Toons // Carl Stalling Created Jarring, Jangling Classics for Warner Bros." Chicago Sun - Times 11 Jun. 1995: p. 23.nc. ProQuest. 24 Nov. 2006 .
11. Goldmark, Daniel. “Jungle Jive: Animation, Jazz Music, and Swing Culture,” in Tunes for Toons. Berkeley, Ca: University of California Press, 2005. pp.77-106.
12. I’ll Be Glad When You’re Dead You Rascal You. Dir. Dave Fleischer. US, 1932.
13. Interstella 5555: The 5tory of the 5ecret 5tar 5ystem. Dir. Kazuhisa Takenochi. US, 2003.
14. Klein, Norman. “Production: 1940,” in 7 Minutes. London: Verso, 1993. pp.156-161.
15. ---. “The Chase Cartoon: Machina Versatilis,” in 7 Minutes. London: Verso, 1993. pp.161-171.
16. Lindvall, Terry, and J. Matthew Melson. “Towards a Post-Modern Animated Discourse,” in A Reader in Animation Studies. Ed. Jayne Pilling. London: John Libbey, 1997. Barrier, Michael. “Warner Bros., 1933-1940,” in Hollywood Cartoons. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 1999. pp.323-365.
17. Mariutch. Dir. Dave Fleischer. US, 1930.
18. Minnie the Moocher. Dir. Dave Fleischer. US, 1932.
19. Munsterberg, Hugo. “The Psychology of the Photoplay,” in Hugo Munsterberg on Film: “The Photoplay: A Psychological Study” and Other Writings. Ed. Allan Langdale New York, NY: Routledge, 2002. pp.64-108.
20. Old Man of the Mountain. Dir. Dave Fleischer. US, 1933.
21. The Old Mill. Dir. Wilfred Jackson. US, 1937.
22. Polan, Dana. “A Brechtian Cinema? Towards A Politics of Self-Reflexive Film,” in Movies and Methods vol.2. Ed. Bill Nichols. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985. pp.661-672.
23. The Rabbit of Seville. Dir. Chuck Jones. US, 1950.
24. Salamon, Jeff. "The men who made the tunes Looney; Peter Bay and Graham Reynolds consider the music of Carl Stalling and Raymond Scott."Austin American Statesman 13 Nov. 2003: p. 38. ProQuest. 24 Nov. 2006 .
25. Sartin, Hank. “From Vaudeville to Hollywood, from Silence to Sound: Warner Bros. Cartoons of the Early Sound Era,” in Reading the Rabbit. Ed. Kevin Sandler. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1998. pp.67-85.
26. Scrub Me Mama With a Boogie Beat. Dir. Walter Lantz. US, 1941.
27. Steamboat Willie. Dir. Walt Disney. US, 1928.
28. Red Hot Riding Hood. Dir. Tex Avery. US, 1943.
29. Wabbit Trouble. Dir. Robert Clampett. US, 1941.
30. Wells,Paul. “’Catch That And Paint It Green!’:Adult Avery,” in Understanding Animation. New York, NY: Routledge, 1998. pp.140-151.
31. Yellow Submarine. Dir. George Dunning. US, 1968.

Canadian Realist Tradition

MASSEYSCanadian cinema has been dominated by a realist tradition due to its industrial limitations, the influence of government agencies upon production and Canada’s desire to construct a national identity. These factors can only lead to an environment dependant on realism, especially when combined with the industry’s creation headed by John Grierson, a documentarian.

As film became a worldwide industry, Canada did not protect its own nation’s livelihood as the United States began to dominate foreign markets. Ted Magder argues, among Gerald Pratley and others, that Canada’s allowance to let American films dominate Canadian screens allowed most of the money created through exhibition to travel to the states, instead of remaining in Canada to further production, unlike Britain and France who established quotas or bans and effectively secured some local production. The domination of Canadian screens also prevented Canada in developing its own filmmakers, as the low-budget shorts were no competition for the lavish, full length fiction films funded by American banks.

With no money to even start-up an agency or an industry, the U.S. domination led to a severe lack of film personnel within Canada. The only existing agency was Badgely’s Motion Picture Bureau which highlighted the scenic landscapes of Canada, a cultural commodity depicted in American “outdoors” films. The bureau’s connection to the Department of Trade and Commerce also encouraged the depiction of landscapes for tourism and commercial enterprise, as Joyce Nelson points out. This documentation of Canada for foreign investment was soon disrupted by the arrival of John Grierson. His appointment as film commissioner inevitably controlled the films that Canada would produce. Nelson displays that Grierson’s background in British documentary and his personal distaste for fiction films, as highlighted in his film policy, removed any chance of creating a domestic feature-film industry. Grierson argued that feature films did nothing to “reflect a purposive society but rather a neurotic, meaningless society.” He favoured short, documentaries due to their level of information and seriousness. Grierson then established the Canadian film board by hiring members of the British documentary movement. Documentary became the initial starting point from which all other works would evolve. Grierson also started the production of social films, as he believed that they could be applicable to most nations, and that fiction films were only effective in certain regions. The documentary and social ideals were expanded as Grierson decided, not to hire the few experienced filmmakers available, but instead to train inexperienced staff to create the films that he wanted.

These films were created using the only source of income available, the Canadian government. The Film Board itself was created as a Parliamentary act in 1939, and immediately became a tool of the government in creating propaganda during WWII. Rohama Lee explains that the since the NFBC’s production did not rely upon commercial return, it was destined for special interest films. Lee states that due to government funding, production was divided mostly into films for government departments and for educational purposes. Films were created to help create a national identity for Canada by depicting the large diversity of people, and the local scenery that defined certain regions of Canada. This left only a third of production for films of artistic intentions. Gerald Pratley also takes up the problem with federal funding as he argues that the inherent strive for capital deflects the necessity of cultural advancement.

Not only did the federal strive for profits affect production, but the actual intentions and limitations of certain departments affected the topics and interpretation of certain films. Some films were suggested from specific departments, and were produced merely as an obligation due to funding. These projects limit the possibility of artistic films even further. Pratley discusses how even though a filmmaker wishes to document a social problem such as a strike, they would have to subject the content of their film to approval by the appropriate departments, in this case the Department of Labour. This censorship was also applied to any independent artists who were hired to work for the board. This censorship and objective depiction of Canadian society lasted until the sixties when the layout of the NFB underwent significant changes.

Even though Canada was regularly producing shorts by the sixties, it still lacked a national identity or style that could be utilized to help promote a more prosperous industry. Bruce Elder argues that the development of national art passes through three stages outlined by Frantz Fanon. After assimilating with the colonizer’s art, and before creating a native culture, a nation will go through a phase with is an “affirmation of the past.” The Candid-Eye movement of the sixties, Elder argues, was this second phase, along with the cinéma-vérite movement. These two movements were a reaction against the previous cinema where the aesthetic value was created through the separation of the cinematic object and reality. These new movements destroyed the separation, resulting in the filmmaker’s active participation in the creation of a film. Instead of taking an objective stance, many of these films often incorporated or relied upon the presence of the camera, or filmmaker, in order to reveal the truth worth documenting. Programs such as Challenge for Change were the product of Canadian film evolution. Even though Challenge for Change was a success and was critically received and was considered free of the federal censorship originally placed upon filmmakers, the movements were still restricted. With little funding, most film crews consisted of a handful of people and most equipment was portable, lightweight and 16mm. These movements, while rebelling against the only standard, Grierson’s initial, objective documentary industry, still was unable to make the leap to feature length production. If anything, these movements pushed Canadian film even further from producing feature films, as documentary lost its objective quality which is normally associated with fictional films. Despite this setback, Canada at least began to develop a national identity through the movements’ desire to record and preserve social traditions. David Clandfield expresses this movement’s desire through his analysis of Pierre Perrault’s film Pour la suite du monde and the revival of the beluga trap in a small Québec town. The catalogue of traditions and rituals was also present in Anglophone productions, such as The Back-Breaking Leaf. John Grierson’s preference and grit for documentary created the national standard from which later cinema evolved and rebelled against. When combined with the financial and industrial deficiencies that Canada possessed, in comparison to the United States, documentary and the quest for realism became the Canadian cinematic tradition.

Lyrical Representation in "Betty Boop's Snow White" (1933)

A copy of the clip for this paper can be found on YouTube.com after searching Betty Boop. The clip in question begins as Koko and Bimbo enter the Mystery Cave. This paper is a visual description....

This paper will analyze the cartoon Betty Boop’s Snow White (1933), directed by Dave Fleischer, animated by Roland C. Crandall. The images from the cartoon serve to visually express and emphasize the lyrics and rhythm of Cab Calloway’s “St. James Infirmary Blues.” The structure of the image contains two planes of action. These planes are the foreground, where Koko performs, and the background, which displays the Mystery Cave. In order to structure the many synchronous visual and auditory elements, this paper divides the clip into sections based on the lyrics of the song.
The first shot of the clip is a tracking shot to the right containing Koko following Betty’s ice coffin as the seven dwarves carry her away. As the clown sings, “Let her go, let her go, oh bless her,” Bimbo walks to the right from offscreen left, jumps and sits on Betty’s coffin. All of the dwarves, Bimbo and Koko have shadows on the ground that change according to their positions. As the dwarves carry Betty to the right, their eyes roll, and feet and hands move to the rhythm of the song. Betty opens and closes her eyes to the music, as well. As Koko begins to say, “Oh, bless her,” the dwarves increase their pace and carry Betty offscreen right. This movement also occurs when a sign saying “Go” in the background passes parallel to Koko’s head. The remaining background image consists of a car, with skeletons as the passenger, driver and traffic conductor, who is in a barrel that the sign “GO” appears. Throughout this clip, diegetic sounds are present such as footsteps and a bump and slide noise, as Bimbo lands on Betty’s coffin.
The next lyric is, “wherever she may be.” As Koko sings the word “she,” his neck extends up then down, along with his collar and hat, to match the change in pitch. As the lyric ends, the Queen appears from offscreen left and begins to polish her hand mirror as Koko sings, “she will search this wide world over,” as a drawing of Earth passes by in the background. With the last word of the lyric “over.”, Queen places her mirror over Koko and lowers it, transforming him into a white ghost composed as a pair of legs wearing a torn coat. A siren-whistle ring noise occurs during this action.
As Koko sings, “but she’ll never find another sweet man like me,” the background contains framed portraits of demons. Koko dances in a circle and the queen flies overhead using her mirror as a witch’s broom. The queen travels to the right with her shadow passing along the ground behind Koko producing a difference of depth within the image. The next lyric, “Now, when I die, bury me in straight leg britches,” has an owl materialize and begin to fly over Koko’s head in a figure eight pattern to the beat of the song. By flying from the background left to foreground right, and vice versa, the motion, accompanied by a slide whistle sound, displays the amount of space within the image. During the lyric, “put on a box-back coat and Stetson hat,” the owl flying overhead transforms into a snake. During the last two lyrics, Koko’s pants fall down, coinciding with the word “britches,” and two arms reach out from the torn coat and pull them back up. During the “britches” line, two skeletons wearing pants are in the background, where one of them is half-buried in the water of the cave. This is followed by skeletons wearing hats and coats.
Koko then jumps onto his hands and stretches his legs out towards the top of the frame to create three interlaced circles that morph into links of a chain. This represents, “Put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain,” as Koko’s head transforms into the gold piece, his eyes creating the two and zero, and his arms as links holding the piece. The flying snake overhead, morphs into a fish skeleton and begins traveling in circles behind the watch chain. The flying fish becomes a hairy skull with a top hat that resumes the original figure eight motion, as Koko’s legs return to the ground and he sings, “so you can let all the boys now I died standing pat.” The tracking in the shot ends and Koko jumps offscreen right and a cut occurs. The background image during the final two lyrics contains a skeleton pointing a revolver at another skeleton, which is holding five aces and wearing a watch chain.
A match-on-action occurs as Koko jumps into the foreground of the next tracking shot, while a skeleton with wings flying overhead creates another match-on-action with the previous flying skull. The background consists of a skeleton playing craps on a bed with six onlookers, as Koko sings, “then give me six crap-shootin’ pallbearers,” and walks around a pair of dice on the ground. The dice on the ground have rolled snake eyes, becoming a visual pun as the flying skeleton overhead becomes a snake. As Koko sings, “let a chorus girl sing me a song,” he spins and drops to his knees on the word “sing,” then looks shocked at something offscreen right. Lines shooting off his head emphasize this shock. In the background of the image, the chorus girl is a cow playing the piano on a stage as skeletons watch from boxed seats.

BREATHE (The Prodigy)

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Classical Cinema vs. Art Cinema

Originating during The Studio Era, the classical film is a staple of film culture, causing many genres and film practices to be defined in comparison. Classical cinema has set the standard for a collective set of cinematic codes that organize the narrative of a film. These codes are compiled to produce a narrative that is shaped like the structure of a novel. Classical narratives are based upon the concept of an enigma and a resolution. The story consists of equilibrium in the fictional world and an event that disrupted this equal balance. These fictional worlds are created through the highest operation of verisimilitude, or plausibility. To create a realistic world, shots are arranged in a spatial and temporal coherence by organizing them into a coherent, chronological order. This allows the movie to progress through a cause and effect method. Every shot is linked to the following shot through logic or character agency. Agency is given to those who display traits, desires or motivation. This agency is the driving force behind the cause and effect method as well as the equilibrium concept. Without agency, a character is not compelled to act. Without action, or a disruption, there is no cause for a reaction. The main protagonists in a classic film are the most common characters to be given this narrative force. One of the most effective characters to be attributed with a high level agency is the hero.

Derived from American mythology, the hero or heroine is known to possess opposing character traits. This creates a wider acceptance of the character among the audience, and creates more narrative possibilities allowing choices in the plot to possess more than one answer. The aspect of the hero as the main protagonist is divided into the outlaw hero and the official hero. These opposites both operate in the pursuit of freedom, though through different methods. At the end of the movie, both heroes will resolve the disruption, providing a level of closure and completing any story lines originating in the plot.

To ensure that these characteristics of classical cinema are achieved, certain demands are made upon the film’s form and style. A major feature of classical cinema is the system of continuity editing. The goal of this narrative system is to appear invisible to the spectator. By directing the viewer from shot to shot, the filmmaker must try to eliminate any point where the viewer may become confused or lost during a transition between shots. Fades and dissolves are used to give the viewer a temporal relation to the rest of the film, while establishing shots and following closer shots provide a spatial reference. In this space, the viewer is led through scenes with the use of following shots, eye-line matches, glance-object cuts and the shot/reverse shot system. These are worked in conjunction with match on action cutting and the use of the 180 degree rule. These tools work to create a seamless flow of narrative throughout the story. This editing can only become invisible if the plot of the movie contributes. In order for this process to disappear, the plot needs to provide clear causal links between each scene. The audience must know where the movie is going and what needs to be done, pulling them into a co-existing state with the characters onscreen. By identifying with the characters, they create a suspension in disbelief that supports the fictional world and the hero’s agency within the film. Through the acceptance of the film’s storyline, the audience takes on a subjective role in the procedure of viewing the film. They project themselves onto the heroes, or the heroes onto them, making them accept the desires and ideals of the hero.

As in classical cinema’s early years, the audience’s participation in the hero’s notion of right and wrong is very important. Studios create movies that always reflected current events and contribute to the American way of life in a positive way. These films are created to show the hero and his righteous path, or to describe the adversity of a collected nation as it overcomes a great tragedy. Furthermore, classical films are structured by studios to be conservative in their depiction of violence and lust. In most classical films, if a man is killed, it happens just outside of the frame. The camera will often pan away from a couple about to have sex, or cut to a symbolic shot, such as rain, as a substitute. These characteristics, in addition to the formal and stylistic patterns surrounding the causal connection, are combined to create a classical film.

As the classical cinema is associated with America during the Studio Era, art cinema is widely regarded as a global genre. This is not to say that all foreign films are art films and that art cinema does not exist in North America. Art cinema is loosely seen to be the opposite of classical cinema due to its stylistic choices and formal patterns. It is most commonly identified by what it is not. These differences serve many purposes, but make it very difficult to define the genre. The few characteristics that art films possess all contribute to the cinema’s inherent lack of narrative progression and credibility. This is mainly due to the unrealistic, fictional world and its questionable inhabitants. Most fictional worlds in art films seem to be based on unrealistic terms or include unannounced, fantastical sequences. These sequences would normally be introduced in a classical film by an aural signifier or a visual image such as someone falling asleep. Art films also incorporate ambiguity instead of causality into the development of the characters resulting in a loss of identification between the audience and the character. If the audience cannot understand the goals and desires of the hero or heroine, they cannot determine the strength or existence of the hero’s agency. Furthermore, character’s can lack agency within the plot while possessing goals or desires which destroys the overall credibility of the character.

With no cause and effect system in place, there is no level of closure throughout the film. This is especially true at the end. Open ended movies are not a trademark of art cinema since they are specific to the filmmaker. When making the film, art directors tend to use a high level of subjectivity within the plot. The audience is forced to visually identify with the hero instead of through their motives and desires. Many point of view shots are used, especially during dreamlike sequences creating a level verisimilitude. These subjective shots are acceptable in the continuity editing system but are often preceded or followed by a shot containing the viewer. Art films normally contain other continuity violations creating a loose arrangement of causality which opens gaps in the progression of the plot. This creates interludes where the audience is asked to question where the film is heading. Despite being a major flaw to classicism, this concept of deciphering a movie is widely accepted by art film critics. In most cases, the audience expects that they will have to think hard about what is happening in the movie and how it will end. This notion of having to figure out a film does not appeal to all. Therefore, different production and distribution methods are used in comparison to America’s studio machine.

Classical films and art films are defined through their use of causality, continuity editing, subjectivity and plausibility. The Day the Earth Stood Still and 8 ½ are two films that employ these concepts. The Day the Earth Stood Still, directed by Robert Wise is a classical, science fiction film that is a prime example of the continuity editing system. Driven by the nature of causality, almost every scene is joined by a causal link. One example occurs in the sequence in which Klattu and Bobby have just gone to see the spaceship. Klattu finds out that Professor Bernhardt is the greatest intellect in the area. Klattu tells Bobby that they will go see Bernhardt then a fade occurs and the next sequence shows Bobby and Klattu walking towards a house. The audience infers that this house is Bernhardt’s.

While 8 ½, which was made by Federico Fellini, contains some of these causal links, most of the major scene changes are left to let the viewer organize. The Day the Earth Stood Still doesn’t contain any fantasy or dream sequences such as the sequence in which Guido speaks to all of the women from his life. This sequence is preceded by one of Guido’s daydreams. The link is a continuation of Guido’s fantasy but there is no signpost for the audience to anticipate what is coming. Fellini does not abandon the entire continuity system. Instead of following regimented rules, it seems that he has chosen to apply certain codes when he pleases. When Guido speaks to the Writer at the spa, Fellini reframes many times to keep Guido, the Writer and Mezzabotta all in the frame. Then when Gloria is introduced we are shifted to a shot/reverse shot between Guido, and Gloria with Mezzabotta.

Wise and Fellini also differ in their construction of spatial and temporal relations. The Day the Earth Stood Still uses the system of establishing shots and closer framing to set up the setting. This space is maintained by the use of the 180 degree rule as is seen in the sequence where Klattu speaks to Professor Bernhardt in his office. While Bernhardt walks around the room we remain on one side of the action. This line is only partially broken after a match on action is made. Fellini, however, chooses to cross the line of action numerous times. Often there are moments where the axis is crossed to provide a subjective shot. In the sequence that Guido is being hounded by reporters at the press conference, the Mindreader is seen in the background. A close-up is given to the Mindreader and then a close-up a Guido is shown. In this shot Guido is traveling to the right, instead of the left in the previous shot. These types of spatial relations can be disorienting, especially when accompanied by a gap in the temporal chain. The audience believes the gap from the previous sequence to be only a day according to the Producer’s dialogue. Once Guido arrives to meet the Producer, the viewer is informed that three days have elapsed, not one. These abrupt gaps are uncommon in classical films. The Day the Earth Stood Still operates on a daily, temporal chain. When a gap of more than a day is presented, such as the closing of the scene where Klattu and Bernhardt arrange the demonstration, a verbal link is made, to accompany the fade out that ends the scene.

These opposing methods of constructing a fictional world are necessary to the viewer’s interpretation of the main characters. Guido is a weak, deviant in comparison to Klattus confidence and presence. The use of the camera to create a chaotic, confusing world only supports the motif of disorientation in 8 1/2. Fellini’s chaotic world does not present the same level of verisimilitude that Wises structured narrative can provide. This causes Fellini to rely heavily on direct, subjective shots from Guido’s point of view. This allows the spectator to create an association with Guido that is created out of desire, and not from necessity due to the restricted narrative. Even though this association is created, Fellini still manipulates the audience into a subjective trap in the scene where reporters ask questions directly into the camera. One infers that they are being delivered to Guido, but the camera pans right to discover Guido walking amongst a crowd. These instances often cause the characters to lose credibility within the fictional world.

The main characters in these films display contrasting traits and attitudes. Klattu is a strong, confident man possessing great power and control over those around him. Even as Mr. Carpenter, he is able to influence others. His goal is to warn the people of Earth and he confronts every obstacle in his path with a cool attitude. When one object is placed in front of Guido, he tries to avoid any form of confrontation. The scene in which Guido is being escorted to the press conference shows him trying to run away, and then collapsing when he is dragged closer. He avoids making any decisions about the movie, which prevents the narrative from advancing. This procrastination causes the plot to stall throughout the movie leaving the audience in a state of boredom or anticipation. Klattu’s determination to find a figure of authority cancels out any possibility for these stalls. This assertion adds to the character of Klattu and strengthens the story.
While classical cinema and art cinema are both widely popular film genres, they are created through different means. These two practices involve the same principles and techniques, but they are used to different ends. One is used to create a progressive, narrative oriented story, while the other creates a character motivated film.

The Importance of Chapter Seven In Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart

Stephen Massey
November 19, 2004


The colonization of Nigeria by the British during the late nineteenth century brought an end to the cultural freedom of Igbo people. The invasion of the white man in Africa destroyed most of the cultural history of Nigeria. Chinua Achebe tries to reconstruct this culture for the post-colonial Nigerians with his novel Things Fall Apart. Chapter seven is significant to the themes of the novel as it examines the Igbo concept of masculinity and the father-son relationship, while also furthering the plot with key foreshadowing scenes. By examining the key points in this particular chapter, the reader will obtain a greater understanding of the novel, and how Achebe constructs his narrative.

In Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, one of the most important themes in the novel is the Igbo depiction of masculinity. The Igbo believe a strong man to be a great man. Okonkwo deeply respects the traditions and customs of his tribe, and ensures that he is observed to be a strong, confident individual. He also wishes his son, Nwoye, to be “a tough young man capable of ruling his father’s household when he [is] dead…” (37). Chapter seven helps convey this theme through the use of proverbs as well as character development. Nwoye begins to display the masculine traits that his father pursues, by yearning to prove himself with the acceptance of traditionally masculine jobs like cutting wood. He also begins to disapprove of women and the childish tales they tell. This is relevant because it shows that Nwoye is finding his masculinity by oppressing those who are weaker than him, much like the white man exerts power over the Igbo people, and how his father controls those around him. Okonkwo believes that his son has finally proved himself, but once Nwoye realizes Ikemufuna is dead, he bursts into tears. Okonkwo is disgusted with this display of weakness and beats him. He sees crying as a feminine quality, and considers men to be above women. “No matter how prosperous a man was, if he was unable to rule his women and his children (and especially his women) he was not really a man” (37). Okonkwo’s thoughts about the role of women are a powerful image that reinforces his desire for prestige, power and respect, which he chooses to obtain through his masculinity.

The relationship between father and son is a significant aspect to the novel’s overall development. Okonkwo’s fear of turning into Unoka plays a major role in his upbringing of Nwoye, and his influence on Ikemufuna. Chapter seven is a turning point for the interaction of these three characters. In this chapter, Okonkwo begins to show pride in Nwoye as he starts to take a more masculine role in the compound. This is mostly due to the guidance of Ikemufuna, and the great bond these two sons have created. Ikemufuna’s compassion towards others allows him to become the paternal figure that Nwoye has never had, and Okonkwo cannot be. Okonkwo recognizes Ikemufuna’s influence on Nwoye, and invites both of them to eat in his obi, which is a great privilege. This action of allowing the two young men to eat with him, not only shows Okonkwo’s approval of his son, but it also expresses Okonkwo’s acceptance of Ikemufuna as a son. Ikemufuna also realizes this bond with Okonkwo, as he is walking through the forest. “He could hardly imagine that Okonkwo was not his real father” (42). The fact that the impostance of their relationship is stated explicitly Ikemufuna enhances the gravity of Okonkwo’s actions. After Ikemufuna is struck by the first blow, he runs to Okonkwo begging for help, calling him “father.” Okonkwo delivers the fatal blow, killing Ikemufuna, so as not to appear weak in front of the other men. Once Nwoye realizes that Ikemufuna has been killed, he no longer trusts his father. This causes a rift between the two men and forces Nwoye to question his father and his excessive masculinity. This rejection of Okonkwo’s way of life creates an ironic parallel to Okonkwo’s rejection of his father, Unoka, as it shows that Okonkwo has inadvertently completed his goal. He has raised his son to be just like his father, as they both reject their fathers’ way of life.

Things Fall Apart is a well-crafted book that guides the reader to certain expectations and emotions. This is done as Achebe constructs certain plot elements that foreshadow later climaxes. Chapter seven contains two key events that contribute to many integral scenes in the latter part of the book. As Okonkwo, Nwoye and Ikemufuna are repairing the outer wall of the compound, the locusts arrive in Umuofia. In Igbo culture the locusts are not perceived as a bad omen, but as a tasty gift that arrives only once every generation. The locusts first come in a small group, and then a large swarm invades Umuofia. The swarm of locusts represents the later arrival of the white man, who first sent a messenger, and was followed by a larger group. This is confirmed in the second part of the novel: “… white men were on their way. They were locusts, it said, that first man was their harbinger sent to explore the terrain” (98). By the direct use of the word locust this is a clear link to the scene in chapter seven. The other major event in chapter seven that leads into future conflicts is the death of Ikemufuna. Once Nwoye has learned of Ikemufuna’s death he is reminded of when he overheard a baby crying from the Evil woods. These two instances force Nwoye to question his culture and its customs. Nwoye later refuses the Igbo and joins the Christian missionaries. The death of Ikemufuna also affects Okonkwo and the rest of the tribe. Okonkwo’s fatal blow delivered after he has called him “father,” displays Okonkwo’s ability to severe a paternal connection in order to maintain his self image. This resonates in his disowning of Nwoye after he joins the Christians and changes his name to Isaac. Okonkwo also creates a rift between himself and the clan after he disobeys advice given to him by Ogbeufi. He states it would be wrong for Okonkwo to go against traditions and play a hand in the death of Ikemufuna since, “He calls you father” (41). Okonkwo has already disobeyed a clan tradition by beating Ojiugo during the Week of Peace. This brutal act is a stepping stone in Okonkwo’s inevitable expulsion from the tribe. This death also hints at Nwoye’s later choice to join the missionaries as Ikemefuna is sacrificed for the good of the clan, and to prevent a future war between the two tribes.

Once the reader has fully grasped the concepts outlined in chapter seven, they will be able to analyze Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, with greater depth. The seventh chapter contains pertinent information to the development of the plot leading up to the climax in the latter part of the novel, as well as clearly displaying strong examples of masculinity and the paternal figure, as central themes in the novel. Chapter seven plays a pivotal role in the overall narrative of the novel, which displays the Igbo way of life, and how it was destroyed by the invasion of the white man.

Narration in Early Cinema

From the beginnings of cinema, around 1895 to the late teens of the twentieth century, cinema underwent a major reform of stylistic properties. Its initial use of displaying actualities, normally landscapes or news events, carried the industry until it became a mainstay in the artistic world. By the late teens, cinema had changed structurally to become a form of narrative. The shift from non-narrative to narrative filmmaking was caused by a desire for a more middle class audience. Along with this motion, the presentation of character psychology and the technical and stylistic innovations that arose during this time became the basis for the narrative film. While these were the most influential factors, others also led to the creation and acceptance of the narrative film. Some of these were cinema’s ability to adapt certain influences, it’s longevity as a novelty in the entertainment industry and the financial restrictions placed upon it. In order to have a greater understanding of the key reasons that led to the creation of the feature film, it is necessary to outline these minor ones first.
After the initial surge of cinema had taken place, many theatres and producers saw a drop in attendance. This was mostly caused by the repetition in the subject of most films. Many filmmakers only recorded landscapes or special events. The problem with this method is that, after a while, one begins to run out of material to use. Tom Gunning’s definition of the “Cinema of Attractions” (60) acknowledges the undeveloped nature of early cinema and it’s use as a spectacle. The use of news events as topics also created a major problem, as there were periods where the news lacked any major stories to produce. The audience might also lose interest in a particular subject before the producers found another subject to start documenting. One response was by using audience foreknowledge of other artistic materials as the basis of the film. Sadly, this idea was not well received by the mass audiences, as Charles Musser points out. The use of audience foreknowledge was not a success, since only a limited number of sources could be used that were well known by general masses (262). In order to create more material for visual spectacles, many filmmakers began to look to other cultures and modes of representation.
While American firms were producing films regularly, there was a large market for foreign imports from the exhibitors. Many producers simply copied many of the imported films for distribution within the American market. Many of the popular Italian, costume epics were mimicked as well as the French Film D’art, which was very popular throughout the European and American theatres (D. Bordwell 35). This led to the acceptance of many new stylistic techniques, since at that time the cinematic industry was still quite international in production and exchange (K. Thompson 43). The creation of the MPPC affected many of the independent filmmakers within the states. Many producers were forced to make multi-reel films due to the one-reel standard, instituted by the MPPC. This restriction also acted negatively towards members of the MPPC as they only created only one-reel films. Another restriction placed upon all American filmmakers was the financial concerns of many producers as they expressed great frustration with the large costs associated with actualities. The expenses required to venture to an exotic land were large. The endless possibilities of narrative were no match for the restriction of exotic locales. These narratives could also be rewritten to fit into a producer’s budget. By preplanning the budget with the plot, the film industry was able to create the continuity script. By listing all of the scenes in a film and organizing them by location and time, expenses were saved by not having to pay for the costs of travelling back and forth between locations to shoot in narrative order. By saving money on unnecessary spending, firms were able to use surplus funds to begin experimenting with certain genres and narrative styles.
Accompanied with these three causes, narrative filmmaking began as the film industry wished to entertain a more middle-class audience. The majority of most nickelodeon audiences in the United States were the working class, along with mothers and their children who regularly visited in the major urban theatres. Due to the reduction of hours in the workweek and the deficiency of a language barrier, many immigrants found the cinema as a cheap entertainment. During this nickelodeon boom, the many exhibitors met great criticism from many religious groups and social workers as the depicted theatres as sinister, unsanitary places. Despite it’s progression as an industry, the cinema was getting a bad image as a place where young minds were corrupted by films of executions, murder and prostitution. There was also concern over the portrayal of America to the foreign working class. Soon, enough pressure by reform groups led to many theatres deemed as health and safety risks to the public. The film industry counteracted this movement by trying to create a more respectable image of cinema as a refined art form. Exhibitors introduced the movie palace in 1913, which had the capacity of two thousand seats and were modelled by the architecture of many exotic countries like Egypt or Greece. Visiting these lavish theatres, along with the uniformed ushers and high-quality service provided was considered almost as exciting as the films themselves. Many exhibitors were also able to afford multiple projectors that established multi reel films as a part of the exhibition industry.
Producers also began to target the middle and upper class spectators by following the popularity of the French Film D’art. Many studios began creating adaptations of stage plays, or original material written by acclaimed authors, starring big name, theatre actors. Productions of historical and biblical events became an option as attention was directed towards the causal and thematic elements of certain events. As these new types of films were created, censorship boards were put in place to silence the critical reform groups about the content of the films. (D. Bordwell, K. Thompson 40) Filmmakers were now able to address the issues of how to make a more complex film that would satisfy the middle class’ demand for stimulation and engagement.
As the subject matter of films steadily shifted towards literary adaptations and cause and effect progression, the focus for many filmmakers was to increase the emphasis on character psychology. For an audience member to become engaged with a film, some level of identification is needed to allow the viewer to project their emotions or experiences onto the characters, making them seem more lifelike and believable. As agency was given to characters within the film, the original method of melodrama acting created problems as the wild gestures often could not convey the character’s emotions clearly. The act of looking into the camera was also removed from most filmmaking as it created a disruption in the viewer’s interaction with the film. In order for the audience to identify with the character, the actor needs to be presented well in a realistic environment. Filmmakers began to move the camera closer to the actors, in order to be able to read their gestures and facial expressions. By using close-ups and medium shots, actors were able to rely on their facially expressed emotions. The three-quarter shot was established in 1911, framing the character from the head to just above the knees. (Pearson 29). This created a visual balance between the character and their environment.
The credibility of the diegetic world was also required for the viewer’s ability to accept the narrative. Filmmakers tried to create a realistic set using techniques such as shooting on location and the use of key lighting to represent a diegetic light source. The point of view shot also allowed audiences to identify with the characters, as close-ups of certain objects within the scene were able to present characters’ thoughts. The use of marked camera angles and mobile framing were also useful in the presentation of a character’s point of view. By setting up a level of verisimilitude within the story and by presenting a series of subjective views of the characters, attention slowly began to shift to the causalities involved within the movie. Intertitles helped convey some of these causes. Expository titles summarized an upcoming action or situation while dialogue titles functioned as the final step in conveying the plot to the audience. As these techniques helped the audience to identify with the characters on a personal level, filmmakers used innovations within production to help the audience understand the narrative as a whole.
As films became longer and more structured, the amount of shots required to tell the narrative became greater. Many technical and stylistic achievements by filmmakers allowed for the clarification of spatial and temporal relations, the foundation of narrative filmmaking. In order to tell a story clearly, emphasis rests on the most important elements of the visual. The use of masks and irises, along with close shots and cut-ins, allowed the filmmaker to direct the audiences’ gaze towards key objects in the scene, opposed to the original system of a single, panoramic take. The use of only one long shot created the possibility for losing the viewer, as they had to take in every detail of the screen. (Cook 209). The emergence of the tripod, around 1911, also helped to clarify the filmic space as panning and tilting kept the viewer within the same space, opposed to cutting which required an unconscious check of the space filmed. The establishment of spatial relations was standardized through the creation of the 180-degree rule, and the use of contiguity editing. Characters would exit the frame in one shot on one side and emerge on the opposite side in the next shot, creating the match on action cut. Characters would also emerge from the same exit in a scene, as can be seen in the film Rescued by Rover (UK 1905) when the dog enters and exits from the same point of the frame as it runs back and forth between the baby and the house.
The development of temporal relations allowed the viewer to construct the entire narrative without being disrupted abruptly. The removal of overlapping action and the creation of parallel editing allowed for the presentation of more complex stories (Musser 269). In The Runaway Horse (France 1907), shots alternate between the horse eating a bag of oats and the deliveryman. Each cut to the horse shows the bag of oats emptier and the horse more muscular. These two separate scenes are shown together as they create an element of suspense that is inherent to the film and the chase genre, which Tom Gunning states as “the original truly narrative genre of the cinema, providing a model for causality and linearity….” (60)
During the first two decades of the twentieth century in the United States, film subject matter deviated from the original non-narrative form to a more narrative-oriented cinema. This transition was caused by the film industry’s desire for a more bourgeois audience as well as the focus on identification and narrative clarity, which required the creation of many innovations within film production.


Bibliography
Borwell, David, and Kristin Thompson. Film History: An Introduction. 2nd ed. New York: McGraw Hill, 2003.
Cheval emballé, Le (The Runaway Horse). Dir. Louis J. Gasnier. France, 1908.
“History of Narrative Codes: Introduction & Early Cinema." The Cinema Book. ed. Pam Cook. London: British Film Institute, 1985. pp. 208-211.
Gunning, Tom. “The Cinema of Attractions: Early Film, Its Spectator and the Avant-Garde," 1986, rpt. In Early Cinema: Space, Frame, Narrative. ed. Thomas Elsaesser. London: BFI, 1990. pp. 56-62.
Musser, Charles. “The Nickelodeon Era Begins: Establishing the Framework for Hollywood’s Mode of Representation," 1984, rpt. In Early Cinema: Space, Frame, Narrative. pp. 256-273.
Pearson, Roberta. “Transitional Cinema," in The Oxford History of World Cinema, ed. Geoffrey Nowell-Smith. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996. pp. 23-42.Rescued by Rover. Dir. Lewin Fitzhamon and Cecil M. Hepworth. US, 1905.

Cinema's Superiority to Stage

In this comparative paper, I will explain some of the improvements that cinema has made on theatre by looking at Hugo Munsterberg’s “The Psychogy of the Photoplay,” and Boris Eihkenbaum’s “Cine-Stylistics.” Hugo Munsterberg and Boris Eihkenbaum consider cinema superior to theatre in its ability to construct a spatially and temporally coherent world, which allows for greater ease in involving the spectator and directing their attention throughout the film

One of cinema’s most noticeable features over theatre is its method of constructing a believable space and temporal continuity. Film has many powers that theatre can never possess. One of which is the obvious realism inherent with capturing the real world on film. Plays can create lavish sets using painted canvases and elaborate arrangements of flats, but their falsity takes away from the overall impression of the work (Langdale, 84). The stage and screen also differ in their presentation of the space. Firstly, it is necessary to point out the opposite orientations. All stages are constructed to appear narrow at the back and widen towards the audience to ensure maximum visibility. Film space however is a limitless space presented by the narrow framing of the camera. Another difference of presentation is the distance of the spectator from objects in that space. Theatre spectators can lose clarity on the objects that compile a setting due to the distance between the actual stage and the spectator. Without the ability to magnify certain objects, as done in a close-up, many audience members may miss key information of the play.
As any film spectator may notice, a great advantage of film over theatre is its ability to transport the viewer to any place or time in a matter of seconds. The quick changeovers allow greater significance to be applied to the two settings. The seamless transition from one space to another allows the plot to continue without interruption for a set change. The space of the theatre integrates itself into the plot, as it is restricted to the boundaries of the stage (Taylor, 21). An audience member does not even fathom what exists past these imaginary walls, while a cinema spectator can marvel at the complexity of the limitless space presented. Whether shot in a studio or on location, something always exists just offscreen whether it is more landscape or the studio itself. As the audience never sees what lies offscreen, the sense of a vast space is always present in their minds.
Just as film is more coherent in constructing a spatially plausible world, it is also more skilled at creating a logical, compelling timeline. Time in the theatre sense is passive in nature (Taylor, 24). The time that passes for the characters is parallel to that of the spectator. On of the main theatrical problems is to fill time by condensing the written work to allow as much plot into the designated time as possible. Scenes are often laid out in chronological order and must be shown in a causal succession. Film, however, is able to manipulate time to suit its artistic needs. Film’s main temporal problem is not filling time but constructing time. As the world onscreen often digests time at an alarming rate, filmmakers are more concerned with how to link these temporal moments together as simply as they can. Film is able to cut out certain chunks of time in order to progress to the next narrative step. Unlike theatre, Film has the ability to infuse scenes from the future as well as scenes from the past. These are referred to as flash-forwards and cutbacks (Taylor, 98). While a play can reference another point in time through speech, cinema is able to return to that moment and present the necessary information in a more compelling method. Theatre’s inability to display multiple spaces also restricts its capacity to portray a character’s thoughts, memories or premonitions. The visual portrayal provided onscreen can create a state of suspense as well as begin a chain of causality. By withholding these spaces and moments visually, spectators might not be able to immerse themselves within the play as well as in the cinema.
A patron’s involvement with the material is vital to their appreciation and understanding of the play or film as a whole. While both arts do employ the audiences’ reception of plot and time, the stage treats the spectator as more of a fly on the wall while cinema treats the viewer as a secluded individual who is alone in a theatre. A similarity between theatre and film is their reliance on the audience to provide their own personal experiences that they can use to help create a more emotionally charged interpretation (Langdale, 79). Munsterberg states that each spectator has to deal with two different groups of emotions during a performance. The first concerns the emotions produced in response to the play or film and the second pertains to the emotions transmitted by the characters towards the spectator. “The visual perception of the various forms of expression of these emotions fuses in [the] mind with the conscious awareness of the emotion expressed; we feel if we were directly seeing and observing the emotion itself. (Langdale, 105).” This creation of an experience from within the mind is quite small compared to the mind’s creation of movement and depth within a film.
While the stage is unnatural, it is three-dimensional causing the actions to seem more credible. Film is also able to establish a notion of depth, which combined with the naturalistic settings, is much more accessible to the spectator than the stage. This filmic depth is created by the orientation of objects onscreen through their differences in apparent size, their perspective relations and their subsequent shadows. Objects moving away or towards the camera can also display the depth of a scene (Langdale, 68). The mind also creates the illusion of movement in film through the effect of a positive afterimage. A positive afterimage refers to the act of light causing a perception in our eye and when the light continues its path, the new perception overlaps causing an aftereffect that is different from the original perception (Langdale, 72). These mental activities occur subconsciously with the spectator. They are perceived as real actions in a real space. While these mind processes are happening, we are also conscious of other interactions. On both stage and screen, scenes are presented in a specific order so that certain ideas and emotions are aroused and maintained. The theatre neglects the transition between scenes and relies on titled acts or verbally supplied causes. Since film contains many more scenes than a play will, the use of titled cards would become redundant for every change of space. This has caused filmmakers to rely on the audience’s development of an inner speech that helps to fill in the narrative gaps. Boris Eihkenbaums definition of internal speech dictates that “the spectator must constantly compile a chain of [scenes]… to enable him to divine the meaning of an episode….(Taylor, 12).” This creation of an internal speech must be able to link together the basic connection between scenes, but also must be able to understand the placement of flash-forwards and cutbacks with regard to the present action. Another major function of internal speech is to maintain knowledge of multiple spaces when techniques such as crosscutting are employed. As the action switches from one space to another, the spectator is able to imagine what has happened since the last time a space was projected (Taylor, 27). In the theatre, this notion of internal speech is utilized to understand the motivation and causality that links scenes together. These links, which are also created for film, can base themselves upon an associative relation between the two scenes. Another form of link between scenes is the effect of suggestion. In theatre, most actions play out until their end so that the audiences’ premonitions and thought processes are not lost. In cinema, many actions are cut or interplayed with other scenes to cut down on time. When characters in a play die or make love, the actions present themselves in full to the viewer, but in film, these actions remain offscreen leaving the details of the action to the spectator to produce. This effect allows the audience member to achieve a sense of control over what is actually happening within the story.
Our involvement with a spectacle on stage or screen fuels our interest in the work. Whether a performance is captivating enough to hold our attention is the backbone of a work of art. Patrons attend the theatre and cinema to be entertained. These spectacles are based upon our voluntary and involuntary attention. Existing in both the theatre and the screen, these categories help direct us through the art’s composition as well as contribute meaning through our perception. Voluntary attention occurs when we approach the material through our own personal interest. Involuntary attention occurs when cues present objects or people for us to focus on. Primarily involuntary attention is the nature of distractions. All that is bright and shiny or emotionally controlling grabs our attention. The delicate balance of these two categories is the main challenge of a director. In theater, we may pay attention to any object regardless of its importance to the current action. When a character speaks, we are drawn to them yet through their words we may begin to gaze elsewhere. The movement in a scene controls our attention whether through a motion towards the foreground, a gesture in a motionless crowd or a quick or unusual movement. The observations apply to the structure of cinema with the exception that cinema is able to direct our attention more clearly by using certain cinematic techniques. The most important technique used is the close-up. In film, all of our attention is directed to a single object, gesture, movement or facial expression by enlarging that object or action to fill the entire screen. This magnification serves to produce detail in an object and to reduce the amount of distractions onscreen. The stage can only reduce the distraction by employing a blackout and a spotlight on a given object. This method, resembling the filmic close-up, only destroys the scene by jarring the audience with this unconventional technique. In most cases, significance is displayed through verbal reference. This only directs attention to an object; it is unable to visually present significance. Since the object is not isolated, the remainder of the scene distracts the viewer from achieving a true understanding of the significance as it dilutes the perception. In order to achieve significance, the spectators must remove themselves from the scene and consciously focus on the object, as is outlined by Munsterberg.
“As we are passing along the street we see
something in the shop window and as soon
as stirs up our interest, our body adjusts itself,
we stop, we fixate it, we get more of the detail
in it, the lines become sharper, and while is impresses
us more vividly than before, the street around us has
lost its vividness and clearness. (Taylor, 86).”

As we become more and more conscious of our focal point, our senses begin to adapt themselves to enhance the perception and absorption, isolating us from the world around us. This is one of the key fundamentals behind the moviegoers’ ideal viewing environment.
In cinema, attention is obtained using movement since audible words are not possible. This creates an even greater focus on the movement of film. A filmmaker accentuates these movements by using light, shadows, and vagueness that play on the involuntary attention. Eihkenbaum extends this structure of composition of the shot, outlined by Munsterberg, in his theory that the composition of scenes can focus attention. Since theatre cannot supply flashbacks or flash forwards as a visual spectacle, they must rely on speeches to remind or relate this information to the viewer. By asking the viewer to recall or create his or her own mental scenes, the spectator is temporarily excused from the action onstage, into a daydream (Langdale, 89). Cinema tries to avoid such periods of detachment by linking scenes together in a causal method. Film also tries to hold the attention of the audience through the concept of photogeny. Eihkenbaum describes photogeny as a way of presenting a deformed version of the world (Taylor, 15). This deformed version contains a produced beauty and an aspect of spectacle. Through faster editing and the spectator’s required acknowledgement of each shot, photogeny can create a sense of constant surveillance. Along with this method, directors can also present multiple angles of the same object, similar to the 30-degree rule of the continuity system, which can produce various stylistic effects. These multiple angles, in collection with every other shot in a film have yet another advantage over theatre. The mimicry of actors onstage is continuous and realistic, yet it still holds the possibility of being a poor presentation at that time. Film is able to rewards a performance or action multiple times on different days and choose the most expressive or captivating performance (Langdale, 101). While theatre can impart a sense of impressiveness due to its live performance, it is no match for film’s ability to present the possibility of a flawless performance, having all errors been removed through editing and multiple takes.
Hugo Munsterberg and Boris Eihkenbaum outline the relationship between theatre and film, as they describe cinema’s superiority over the stage by analyzing the construction of spatial and temporal continuity. We have seen how each medium involves the spectator and how their attention is directed and utilized to create a greater understanding of the representation.


Bibliography
Langdale, Allan, ed. Hugo Munsterberg on Film: “The Photoplay: A Psychological Study and Other Writings. NY: Routledge, 2002.
Taylor, Richard, ed. “The Poetics of Cinema.” Russian: Poetics in Translation 9. Oxford: RPT Publishing, 1982.

Spectator Identification within Five Easy Pieces

This paper will describe some of the possible meanings that might have arisen in audiences after Bob Rafelson’s Five Easy Pieces premiered on September 11, 1970 in New York City. Five Easy Pieces’ depiction of the class conflicts and social concerns during the late 1960s and early 1970s produced a diverse collection of identifications between the film’s characters and the audiences of 1970. This argument will be accompanied by a detailed look at three scenes from the film.
In probably one of the most memorable scenes, Jack Nicholson and party have stopped in at a diner for lunch. After ordering a plain omelet with a side order of toast and coffee, the waitress tell him that they do not serve side orders of toast. He becomes confused as the waitress explains the rules of the diner. Despite his efforts he is only met with statements such as “I don’t make the rules,” and “Do you see that sign?” After being asked to leave, he clears the table with his arm sending glasses everywhere. This protest appealed to a large audience, as it pointed out some of the absurdities of daily life enforced by “management.” Here, Nicholson could have been seen as a rebellious hero from different perspectives as he embodies more than one stereotype of the decade.
First, he is glorified by the counter culture with his rebellion against any form of institution. The desire to withstand control was very strong within the youths of America as the film’s debut occurred only a few months after the shootings at Kent State University. During early May, many students protested the war in Vietnam and its expansion into Cambodia by writing letters to President Nixon and protesting in sit-ins and rallies. After their efforts went unnoticed, the students turned to violence to express their demands by burning an ROTC building to the ground. The National Guard arrived the next day and broke up a rally, resulting in the unnecessary killings of four students. The National Guard responded by claiming that the soldiers were attacked by a student sniper but later stated that they were unable to find any evidence to support that claim.[1] The President also showed no remorse for the event saying, “…[these deaths] should remind us all once again that when dissent turns to violence it invites tragedy….”[2] The responses of the President and the National Guard were unsympathetic to the events at Kent State and only generated more outrage causing more students and schools to go on strike. The actions at Kent State sent up to 448 schools across the country to go on strike.[3] These protests continued throughout May and well into the summer.
Secondly, Nicholson’s actions also met by encouragement from the construction workers of that time by portraying an oil rigger from California, who does in fact wear a hard hat and who enjoys the blue-collar life. Many workers could have accepted his protest against the waitress and his attitude towards the hitchhiker Palm. In September of 1970, many construction workers would have still remembered the “Hard Hat Riots” that occurred earlier that year. These riots consisted of a large group of construction workers disrupting a rally of students against the Vietnam War by attacking “…those youths with the most hair and swatting them with their helmets.”[4] After dispersing the crowd, they then turned on the police accusing them of being unpatriotic by allowing these youths to protest. The actions of these workers could have materialized during the viewing of this scene as Nicholson opposes the management as well as the counter culture. When the waitress asks if he would like to talk to the management, Palm rises up to confront the waitress but is thwarted and disposed of by Nicholson with a simple, “Shut up.” Before this scene, the audience meets Palm and her bond to the hippie ideals of the sixties. The blue-collar audience member would have noticed that in one of the only confrontations between hippies and labourers, the blue collar won.
The wide ranges of responses produced by this scene are accentuated by the angling and composition of this scene. The scene is composed of Nicholson and the women at lower level and the waitress standing above them. The scene remains at a medium shot as the waitress points out the rules on the menu, but as soon as she begins to show attitude by stating he can order only what is on the menu, the shot changes to a close-up from a low angle visually showing her power over the others. A medium shot returns as Nicholson attempts to be polite, but then jumps to a shot/reverse shot of Nicholson and the waitress as they fight for control of the situation. This visual construction of oppression and jockeying for control can enforce the response by either the youths or construction workers. At the end of the fight, Nicholson sweeps the table in a surge of violence, expressive of both responses, in its visual chaos of the glasses and water flying across the screen. During the shot/reverse shot, Palm rises up and the camera follows hers. This is the only motion of the entire scene. As Palm, the stereotypical hippie and visual representation of the counter culture, tries to fight for the rights of that culture, Nicholson abruptly stops this movement with relative ease. This composition of shots would display to the blue-collar audience the ability to control this new counter culture of the seventies.
While the new counter culture was integrating itself into society through submission, they were also submitting their ideals and concerns about the country. The audiences of 1970 were well aware of the growing environmental and economic problems that were developing. In Five Easy Pieces’ Bobby and Rayette pick up two hitchhikers on their way to Washington. One of them named Palm Apodaca, played by Helena Kallianiotes, is heading to Alaska to get away from the filth and crap that is destroying America. She worries about the amounting garbage and junk that is accumulating in households and the problems of mass production. She thinks that “Man” should throw all of their possessions and garbage into a hole and burn them. Palm also blames humankind’s inability to clean up after themselves as the problem of all the filth in America. Her rant on the decay of America continues after they leave the diner.
Palm’s assessment of the environmental concerns of that year would be very influential on the audiences’ reception of the movie due to her accuracy. Many spectators would have understood her plight as pollution became a growing concern. Throughout July of the film’s year of release, New York City’s air quality was deemed ‘Unsatisfactory by the Department of Air Resources, which used to be called Pollution Control.[5] Many believed autos to be the source of this pollution, including Senator Gaylord Nelson who thought that an outlaw on the internal combustion engine by 1975 would be effective. In late September, a bill unanimously passed stating that standards for Air Pollution Control would be raised by the year 1975. At one point in the film, Palm mentions a steam-powered car that would solve the filth problem. While today this might seem as a pipe dream for a film of the seventies, Detroit had created working prototype models for the integration of steam into the automotive industry.[6] Ironically, the integration of steam and alternate power sources was rivaled by the oil industry, for whom Nicholson’s character works. Another connection between the film and real life events is Palm’s belief that “they” will not allow the steam car to be sold. Senator Nelson also acknowledged that conspiracy theory of a government keeping technology and secrets from us.



“The entire automotive industry was engaged in an
illegal conspiracy from 1953 to 1968 to delay the development
and installation of air pollution control equipment on motor
vehicles . . . .The public is justified in having grave doubts
about the sincerity of the automotive industry in its ever
taking significant action in dealing with the emissions from
the internal combustion engine, which account for some 60
percent of the nation’s air pollution problem and up to 90
percent in some metropolitan areas.”[7]

Helena Kallianotes’ character also worries about the large accumulation of crap in households and streets. The abundance of technological gadgets, like a disposal, the abundance of garbage, like the coke bottles, and street litter, her mention of the signs, are like the pollution situation, being a known concern to audiences. Supporters of the world that Kallianotes represents would view the movie as an honest depiction of the present world including many whistleblower scenes such as this one. In August of 1970, the National Industrial Conference Board conducted a survey of consumer moods and discovered that while mass production is rising, the desire among consumers to purchase a new car or home is falling. “The falling off in spending expectations from a year [since 1970] ranges from 10 percent on major appliances through 30 percent on new automobiles to 47 percent on new homes.”[8] Already an abundance of garbage and technological junk has shown itself to the public, as well as the universe. “More than 1800 objects were actually adrift in August 1970. Of that number more than 1400 were classified by NORAD as ‘Earth-orbiting debris.’”[9] Mostly consisting of retired space equipment and malfunctioning space probes and satellites.
All of the relevant discoveries would have allowed the audience to see Palm as an example of the counter culture in the right. The rebellious section of the audience would have been empowered by Palm’s speech, and perhaps taking her advice of moving to Alaska, which is a possibility of the unknown cold climate that Nicholson ventures to at the end of the film. The audience would have accepted her as credible female since she is presented as the only woman in the movie that does not adapt to another’s influence.
On the other hand, those who are politically opposed to the ideals of Palm and not caught up in her words would be able to see the film’s sarcastic approach to her. While her words express the counter culture of the 1970s, the film turns her speech into a running gag with the frequent repetition of “I don’t even want to talk about it,” and the twangy country music that intercuts each argument. Her dismissal in the diner by Nicholson shows her lack of agency within the film, and her inability to remember the word steam, the word to describe hot air. Another factor that might influence the audience’s reception is the portrayal of her motives and desires. Our first introduction to Palm tells the audience that she is going to Alaska where she thinks it is cleaner, since it looked very white in photographs. While Palm continues her rant about garbage, filth and the stink of man, she smokes for the majority. Smoking creates toxins that can affect the air though they are not as bad as automobiles, and cigarettes create a longing odour that is hard to remove. Cigarette butts are also some of the most common pieces of litter, as well as some of the slowest to bio-degrade. The oppositions contained within the audiences’ views on Palm are similar to the overall reception of Nicholson’s character Robert “Bobby” Dupea.
The film’s main plot revolves around Bobby’s return home to see his dying, nearly comatose father. The moment of stability in the plot arises when Bobby pushes his wheelchair-ridden father into a field and explains what has happened to him since he left home. He explains his nomadic tendency, and that he is not necessarily searching for anything, but mostly just running from bad situations. In this scene, Bobby finally displays some ‘inner emotion’ that has been previously avoided or denied. Bobby speaks to his father in a speech or monologue due to his father’s muteness. This scene is the explanation behind Bobby’s actions thus far in the film. At this point, the audience is given an option as to believe his apology to his father, or if he is still soulless inside. Critics and fans divided on the level of identification with the film. Many spectators considered Nicholson’s Bobby to be “…the quintessential modern man who is incapable of love.”[10] Many saw Bobby is fleeing from his “auspicious beginnings” as a true and honest depiction of their very lives, that was all too familiar to them.
Roger Greenspun and Peter Schjeldahl, critics for The New York Times, considered the movie quite poor with the exception of a few scenes. They acknowledged that the label of a ‘road movie,’ including the tagline “He rode the fast lane on the road to nowhere,” the journey between California and Washington only secures about 14 minutes of the film[11]. They also criticized the film on its ambiguous ending that did not serve a purpose, other than to fit in with the other sarcastic, ambiguous, American movies of that time.[12] Fans disagreed with their reception of the film claiming that the ending was obvious in the characters’ desires and motives for being a wanderer. So many people wrote in that the New York Times published an article called “‘Pieces’ Is So ‘Easy’ to Love,” consisting entirely of replies to the editor. One wrote, “As a matter of fact, I feel the story lends itself to the American Scene today and one could clearly identify with the characters portrayed.”[13] It must be said that this paper can only touch upon some of the possible interpretations that could have arisen from audiences of that time. While some news events have been used to describe the reception of this movie from the viewpoint of a counter culturist, a blue-collar worker, a film critic and an everyday film spectator, some news events have been passed or omitted due to the limits of the available research materials. From the available materials that have been analyzed it can be said that Five Easy Pieces’ depiction of class representation and the environmental concerns during the late 1960s and early 1970s produced a wide range of identifications between the film’s characters and the audiences of 1970. By analyzing the infamous ‘toast’ scene, Helena Kallianotes’ characterization of the “counter-culture” and the confrontation between Bobby and his father, we have seen where audiences might have generated these responses.
[1] Kifner, 1+.
[2] “Death on the Campus,” 42.
[3] Charlton, 19.
[4] Bigart, 4+.
[5] Kempton, 122.
[6]
[7]
[8] Kempton, 122.
[9]
[10] Diane Crothers Letter to the Editor in “‘Pieces’ Is So ‘Easy’ to Love,” 199+.
[11] Schjeldahl, X13.
[12] Greenspun, 26.
[13] “‘Pieces’ Is So ‘Easy’ to Love,” 119+.