Mulholland Drive!

I had never seen a David Lynch movie before, and although I found Mulholland Drive a little frustrating to try to 'get', I really enjoyed it. I have a lot of fun trying to make sense of the plot while at the same time accepting the fact that none of it makes sense. It really makes the interpretations and 'meanings' of the film endless.

Probably the biggest thing I noticed throughout the movie when trying to piece things together was how much it truly did reference other genres. This was especially noticeable when scenes were set up with so much suspense as if something terrifying were about to happen, but then nothing did (most of the time, at least). This happened several times when a character would be walking down a hallway slowly, in silence or else will low, creepy music in the background (I loved the music in this, by the way!) Mulholland Drive definitely plays around with the expectations we have as an audience; things never seemed to end the way we expected them to, or even end or begin at all. I loved the comparison of the plot to a Mobius loop-- twisting and almost making sense but going in a different direction when it starts to get close.

Of course one of the biggest ways the audience is thrown off is through the two main characters becoming completely different characters 1/3 of the way through. I felt like this was a harsh reminder that what we are watching is a film, it's constructed, and it's not reality. We are seeing actors, not true people, and these actors can be placed and changed into different parts. To be honest, I never really viewed Betty and Diane or Rita and Camilla as the same people like it seems like some in our class did. I thought they were definitely parallels of each other-- one, an aspect of naivety and creativity in its young stage, and the other a jaded misery showing the death of creativity.

I enjoyed the article this week, but I felt Nochimson too was trying to make a concrete plot out of the film even though she acknowledged it can't truly be done. My favorite thing is that she talked about Mulholland Drive as a film dealing with the "human condition". She discusses what happens to the characters in the film and compares this to what happens within all of us as human beings: "At the deepest level of our beings, we know that this transformation has taken place for all of us in subconscious darkness, more or less desperately varying with our circumstances." I think this is so true... we have all lost something or watched a dream within us die, and in some way Mulholland Drive really does speak to its audience. Although there is definitely no clear 'meaning' or 'point', I thought the film was really full of emotion and beauty. I'm excited to see some more from Lynch :)

My teen angst bullshit has a body count...

So postmodernism is a topic that seems to be coming up in a few of my classes this semester, all at about the same time. While postmodernism interests me, I'm still having a hard time grasping exactly what it is or how to define it. If I'm slightly off-base with anything I say within this blog post, feel free to point it out to me and correct me! I appreciate it!

This was my second time seeing Heathers and I think I enjoyed it even more this time. I was glad to hear other people in the class seemed to disagree with Nick Burns' 'Scent of Dominance' essay and it wasn't just me. One of the things I did think was interesting that Burns brought up but didn't focus on was the feminist reading of the movie. He says that Veronica is oppressed by JD and that her father is 'clearly useless'; while I agree with both of these things, I want to point out that Veronica is also oppressed by the Heathers-- Veronica lets other people control her and doesn't stand up for herself in general-- and not just her father, but every adult in the movie, is 'clearly useless'.


We talked about JD a LOT in class, and I just want to bring him up again very briefly. Throughout the whole movie I found myself really wanting to like him, and searching for reasons to be able to although he just kept getting crazier and skeezier. Then in class we talked about how we are so used to having a charming, heroic male character that the female protagonist falls in love with, but we fall in love with too. And in a way, I felt JD had just a tiny bit of charm in some way. It's very much like Jack Nicholson's charm, or Heath Ledger's charm as joker-- we don't like them, they're very creepy, yet we're drawn to them and glad when they're on screen. When I think about it, there was only one truly sweet moment (to me) between JD and Veronica in the film-- when he saves her from her cow-tipping double date, and she's covered in cow poo and trying to avoid being pretty much raped by a jock. Maybe just that one moment where he took her away from all of that kind of softened me to him just the littlest bit.

One thing that really bothered me about Burns' article was that I felt like he was pretty much saying Heathers had no point, offered nothing to the audience, other than form and style. Like Dr. Strangelove, I thought Heathers was a satirical and dark social commentary, making us look critically at ourselves, our youth, our society. At the same time, it satirized the very idealized teen movies of the time that seemed to be offering teens answers to their problems, but these answers didn't work in real life. In a way I agree that the film gives no answers to teenage problems-- but I think the fact that it makes us look at society differently and see the ridiculousness of social hierarchy even within high schools, the extent of 'peer pressure' and how far kids will go to 'fit in', and the disconnection between older generations and youth is enough of a 'point' or 'answer'. Maybe there isn't a concrete answer to these problems, but by beginning to recognize them and see ourselves in a truer light is just a beginning for change. It seems like Heathers was one of the first films of its kind, and it was a preface to movies like Mean Girls-- which is a very similar story but more contemporary.



I suppose ending my blog by talking about the end of the film would be appropriate. I myself wasn't sure how to take the ending. Has nothing changed within the high school or has it changed slightly because Veronica is now in charge and people will be nicer and happier but overall the hierarchy remains? I'm not sure-- we can't really know what will happen the next day or the next year within the school. We talked about the red scrunchy being an 'empty signifier'; we know it represents power to these girls, but the object itself really doesn't stand for anything. I thought that maybe Veronica knew this herself. I read her putting the scrunchy on as a kind of, "Things are going to be the way I want them to be now, not the Heather way." Does this mean she's going to wear it to school every day now and everyone will fear but also worship her? I doubt it. But does it mean that the hierarchy and stereotyped groups within the school will now disappear? I doubt that too. Maybe just little things like Martha Dunnstock now having a friend should be comfort enough to viewers. That's how I took it.

Shaft!

I had a very hard time "dissecting" Shaft this week beyond thinking it was a funny and entertaining movie about this bad-ass black man. I feel like the reading and class discussion helped me out a little, though, so here goes nothing...

One of the most interesting things to me in both watching the film and reading the article was the idea of the 'power of masculinity' within the movie. The article said that since Shaft is black and not white, therefore 'inferior', he must use his dominance of masculinity over femininity instead to prove his power. Shaft's relationships with the women in the movie really pissed me off, but it also makes so much sense to me in the context of the time and woman's "role" in culture at the time.

When we first see Shaft with his "girlfriend" (Ellie, I think her name was?), I almost thought that maybe Shaft had this ultra sweet and sensitive side and was in this committed, loving relationship. Thinking that he could be this hard, bad-ass cop by day and sweet, sensitive boyfriend by night made me really love him. I saw the pictures of Shaft and Ellie sitting on the coffee table beside them while they had the foreplay on the couch and I thought they only confirmed my belief that they were in a steady, loving relationship. But nope, turns out Shaft is a promiscuous womanizer who is letting this woman put obsessive pictures of him in her apartment and tell him she loves him, and he's just getting laid behind her back. Although this made me like his character less, like I said before, it really made sense that Shaft took advantage of his dominance over women in a time and society where he couldn't take his full "power as a man" because he wasn't white.

The other thing that intrigued me that was touched upon in both the article and class on Thursday was the argument over whether Shaft as a character was a "role model for the black community" or just a "product of the white studio imagination and merely a 'black-skinned replica' of a white action hero". I don't think I'm really entitled to answer that question, not having seen enough white action films or black action films to form an opinion, but what I think is really fascinating about the situation is the time period the film was made in and how much that effects the representation of the character. Filmed in the early 70s, Shaft came into being right after the Civil Rights movement-- racial tensions were still so high. I feel like the character was an extremely risky one for Richard Roundtree to portray-- he took the chance of offending white audiences with a character that is "too black" and the chance of offending black audiences for a black character who misrepresented the race. I wish I could know what the actor himself thought of the character. What do you guys think about this question?

I wish I could do a little more comparison of Shaft vs. typical action heroes of our movies today as we did in class, but I feel like I'm completely under-qualified to do so. Actions movies really aren't my thing. I'm interested to see what the rest of the group might have to say on that though. I suppose this is all for now!

(By the way, do not image search "shaft women" or "shaft ellie" when looking for pictures for this blog...)

Hey guys--

Just wanted to say this will be my second skipped blog. Also, I just realized I never commented on blogs last week-- going home for the weekend made it TOTALLY slip my mind I guess. I apologize for that and will go back to leave comments this weekend, even if I get points off for being so behind.

Dr. Strangelove

Dr. Strangelove really reminded me of Joseph Heller's Catch-22, a novel I had to read, write about, and present on in my senior year of high school. I really used my ideas on the novel to help form my perceptions of this movies, so I hope none of you mind if I take some time to draw some comparisons.

Like Dr. Strangelove, Catch-22 is satirical and full of dark humor-- Heller wrote it in a style that would emphasize the absurdity of mankind and war. The 'catch-22' within the novel is that the main character, Yossarian, a WWII bombardier, wants permission to end his duties flying in the war. He is constantly told that the only people who are allowed to stop flying are 'crazy' people, and the only ones considered 'crazy' are those who truly want to keep flying. There are an overwhelming amount of characters within the novel, something meant to emphasize the absurdity and confusion of war by making the reader feel truly confused themselves. Like Kubrick's characters, Heller's are given comical and bizarre names-- like General Scheisskopf (translates to shithead in German), Major Major Major Major, and Milo Minderbinder, just to name a few.

Drawing comparisons between Heller's novel and Kubrick's film makes me really think about WHY dark humor and satire work so well in this kind of anti-war pieces. I really liked the portion of our article in class that discusses how Kubrick began writing and forming Dr. Strangelove as a serious script, but it sort of naturally began to shift toward dark humor. In a way, I feel like this is the only way media and art can effectively critique mankind and war-- to reveal absurdity through more absurdity, in comedy and satire. How else can we truthfully represent a war in which two countries built enough bombs to destroy the world, but still acted as if it was not too dangerous or risky?

Heller's work focused on the ridiculousness of WWII, Dr. Strangelove on the Cold War, and in class we were asked to think about how a writer or filmmaker might portray the current war in the Middle East similarly. This made me think of an episode of Scrubs where the characters get into a debate over being either Democrats or Republicans. Dr. Cox points out the several reasons given by American politicians to justify the war-- sometimes it's oil, sometimes terrorism, sometimes it's because of nuclear weaponry. I think this would be a good place to start on an anti-war-in-the-Middle-East satirical work-- highlighting that there was no one concrete reason for this war, but a plethora of uncertainties that politicians chose to focus on at different times in order to try to justify the crisis.

I thought Dr. Strangelove was a success as a film because it did two things really well- it made me laugh, and it also made me reflect on our country's history, the Cold War, and war in general. I think it's interesting that there is a way for media to present ideas about war that entertains but also informs, and that's why dark humor is so fitting for anti-war themes.

Deren and Brakhage

This week was odd.

I think I'll start with Maya Deren. This was the first time in our class I watched a film and wasn't struggling to make a story out of it. It seemed like a lot of people in class had their own ideas of what was going on within these short films, but I truly watched them and thought a lot about what the camera was doing, and what film in general can do that no other art form can. I tried to kind of strip my mind of everything I think about film, and think about it different. What I mean is, I tried to imagine how revolutionary the camera and film must have been for audiences that weren't used to the special effects our generation knows so well. Nothing phases us in movies any more, because we know that with computers, anything is possible on screen. But it's interesting to think about what is possible with only a camera, no other technology.

I noticed quirks about the camera right off the bat. The very first shot in "Meshes of the Afternoon" showed an arm lowering a flower onto pavement-- pretty simple. But it was shot in such a way that it appeared the arm was unnaturally long, almost creepy. Without any special effects, I believed that this arm was inhuman. We talked about the effect of the tilting camera on the staircase in class. With just an easy tilted back and forth of the camera, audiences experience the sensation of walking-- and truly believing the staircase is tilting, throwing this woman around.



There were so many images captured in this movie that could be captured by no other medium in the art world. Only with a camera can we watch waves rolling and not hear their crash, see them go in reverse and retreat from the shore, or see them slow down to an unnatural pace, inching forward. Only through film can we experience a dancer frozen in midair, suspended for seconds, and then fall to the ground at true speed and continue on.

I feel like Maya Deren really made me see the uniqueness of film as an art form. It is the only thing that can capture 'reality' as we see it. It is the only medium that can capture the movement of a curtain blowing the wind-- something so uncomplicated yet in a way revolutionary. In her essay she discussed the manipulation of time and space through film. These days we take for granted that manipulation I think, creating entire new worlds and creatures with computers. It was cool to see how with only a camera, an audience can be coerced into suspending their disbelief that reality has been stretched and made unfamiliar.



Stan Brakhage's creations also provided a completely new experience for me in film. His were even harder to dissect and take in than Deren's. First I want to talk about his 'Mothlight', the one I liked the most (I know I'm not supposed to say that, but I can't think of another way). I admit, when Mothlight started I was like "Ok... this is weird." After a few moments I was kind of looking around the classroom, wondering when it would end. Then I remembered what Dr. McRae told us about Brakhage's intentions for his audience with his films-- that he wanted the audience to be as close to the visual experience as possible with as little distraction as possible. After remembering that, I forced myself to focus on the screen and not look away. The sensation of this was cool- it was like feeling the texture of a moth with my eyes. There were no true images of a moth, but just with abstractions the 'feeling of moth' was communicated.

We talked so much about 'Window Water Baby Moving' in class that I don't want to focus very much on it. What I will say is that it made me experience childbirth in a way that I never had before in any film-- whether some stupid romantic comedy or 'The Miracle of Life' in high school Bio. I think I might need to still mull this one over before I know what to truly make of it.

Deren and Brakhage's works are much to take in for the untrained eye. As Brakhage wrote, his films are for an audience with a developed optical mind, those who have perception that is deep and original. I feel like I qualify for none of these things, but just to begin to try has been fun and interesting.

La Dolce Vita!

So, I'm struggling with this movie a little bit; I think because we weren't able to talk about it in class, the reading was a difficult read for me, and it's just ridiculous to me that I'm sitting in my living room at home on spring break trying to think about this movie, and not on campus. I'm going to give it a go anyway...

To me, this film was just a massive array of fashion, women, parties, sex, alcohol, dysfunctional relationships, and oddly-- religion. Throughout the entire three hours, I felt like I wasn't quite sure what I should feel, or what the movie was supposed to make me feel I guess. Was it praising this loose lifestyle that was all fun and games and no morals? Was is criticizing it? I didn't know.

I knew Marcello was our main character, but I never felt like we were completely in his point of view. It was more like we were watching him, we were never shown clearly how he felt about his life. On top of this, he was quite confusing! There are times when we watch him struggle, seeming to question his journalism career and it's worth. In the end though, he switches from journalism to public relations (I think?) which to me just seems like a move toward digging himself deeper into this life dictated by celebrity "high life".

We also saw Marcello's relationship with his girlfriend Emma. At times it seemed like he truly cared for her, but then he would just go and treat her like complete crap again. Emma was the only character who seemed truly concerned with love, emotion, and moral value, but she was so over-the-top with her own emotions that it was impossible to appreciate her. Then there is Marcello's relationship with Maddalena, who tells Marcello she loves him while being seduced by another man simultaneously.

The religious aspects of the film were especially hard for me to grasp. I could easily see how people thought the film was doing nothing more than mocking Catholicism. The way I took it was that like all else in the film, religion became a hype and no longer a moral lifestyle. Especially in the "miracle" scene, which was just so ridiculous-- these people cared about the shock of a possible miracle, the hype and publicity surrounding it, but not the meaning of it (although it's quite obviously a farce anyway).

I'm not exactly sure where to go from here. I feel like I have much more to say, but I have no clue what direction to go in with my thoughts. This week made me realize how helpful our class discussion is. I'll leave this here and maybe with some comments and advice I can refine my interpretations a bit more. Thanks!

Last Year at Marienbad

I'm gonna go with Dr. McRae on this one and say that in a way, I loved this movie, but I also hated it. I'm not going to lie and say it wasn't extremely difficult to keep myself awake for the whole thing. I was really glad that we were told beforehand to not try to understand what was going on, but rather take it in and enjoy it. That, "Oh my god, I need to analyze this movie in the exact right way because it's for a class" feeling was swept away and I was sort of able to ask myself what I thought of the movie and what I got out of it.

The first thing I noticed and enjoyed was the poetic, sensual language. Those first lines, repeated over and over again, were so descriptive and full of imagery. Although they didn't really tell a story, they gave vivid pictures accompanied by true images of the castle/hotel. I thought this sort of language continued throughout the film-- many of X's lines were like little pictures or little scraps of memory. If you put them together you'd be left with a loose, unfinished and unreliable story, but if you didn't try so hard you could just take in the descriptions and images that went along with them.

The odd narrative was something I could almost grasp, but the other abnormal things having to do with filming really threw me for a loop. The thing I noticed most was the stilted, artificial acting-- which really shoved in your face that this story is not real life, it is a film. As the camera travels around the hotel, and we are presumably seeing things through X's eyes, the people and conversations around him are so stop-and-go. The people are almost like statues, just waiting for their lines and then returning to their static poses. Then there is a scene where X recalls seeing A on the balcony above the garden a year earlier; he narrates the memory as if it is merely stage directions, and A reacts as if she is an amateur actress reading a script for the first time, responding rigidly to the directions. Moments like this, to me, really emphasized that X is possibly constructing false memories in his head as he goes along, and these things may not have truly happened-- but we will never truly know.

In class we discussed the game that is played and constantly won by M. To me, this game is a reflection of the high-class, elite lifestyle carried on by most of the hotel's inhabitants. It is a game of form and rigidity, and it is played over and over again with the same outcome each time. This seems to be what drives X crazy about the people surrounding him, and is what makes him question the reality of it all. X attempts to win the game more than once, but no matter what moves he makes he cannot-- like we said in class, this seems to represent the fact that despite his efforts, X cannot figure out a way to escape this Cartesian life that tortures him.



Another recurring image that caught my attention was the statue of the man and woman. X and A discuss the statue, trying to figure out what exactly is happening between the two sculpted figures-- is the man protecting the woman from something or is the woman pulling the man back in an attempt to save him? The answer is unclear. This is also how I saw the relationship between X and A-- was X trying to save A from an elitist, redundant life or was he hoping A could save him from his own mind and affirm that his existence is not the only true life or true reality? In a way both seem true; A is the only other hotel guest X sees that seems to have qualities of life and freedom, and he clings to this hoping she will free him from the solipsism that tortures him.


The thought of solipsism is really cool to me. I get almost a weird pleasure freaking myself out thinking about it. To think that every being around me might just be a construct of my own mind, and mine is the only true reality, is really freaking berserk. Anyway, I think I will end here before I start confusing myself too much...

Week 5, Orpheus

Just wanted to let everyone in my group know that I've decided to use one of my "skips" on this weeks blog post, so there's no confusion! :)

Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo

Having seen Hitchcock's The Birds before, and knowing what kind of films he is known for making, I approached this movie with some expectations. I knew that somehow or other it was probably going to creep me out, and I was right.

One thing I noticed right from the beginning is how much the music influenced the suspense in this movie, and really how that works for most scary movies. Sometimes, I try to picture them without the music and they just don't seem scary at all.. I feel like the music is a humongous part of what made me so nervous throughout this movie.


This movie was crazy because I thought it ended about three times before it actually did-- it just kept throwing curve balls. When we finally saw Madeline again as Jane, I was confused. To be honest, it took me a few minutes to even realize it WAS the same woman-- I just kept thinking this was a less beautiful woman wearing way too much make up who kind of looked like Madeline. Her looks and mannerisms as Jane were successful in making her much less appealing, but to me much more real, than Madeline. At first, when the entire murder/suicide plot was revealed through Jane's letter, I didn't even catch what the plot was exactly because it was explained so quickly. This annoyed me as I watched on, but then soon realized that it wasn't truly important as Scotty's crazed obsession grew and grew.

As far as Madeline is concerned, I really saw the connections between her and Laura. She was not truly a person (even more so than Laura, because she was truly only playing a part), but rather a beautiful image that became the object of a man's obsession. This was a major example of scopophilia to me, because Madeline had virtually no lines. There was nothing else for Scotty to fall in love with other than her physical attributes-- she almost never spoke, and when she did she was acting like a crazy, spaced out person. Both movies also used portraits of beautiful women as central images of obsession.

Lastly, I noticed the ghostlike qualities of both of these women. Of course, both turn out not to be dead when they are thought to be, but more than that I noticed the camera tricks that accentuated their apparitional attributes. We all know about and have discussed the dreamlike feel of the scene when Laura returns from the dead. There were two specific scenes within Vertigo where the camera made Madeline/Judy seem like a ghost as well. The first we talked about in class- Judy exiting the bathroom in a hazy mist after putting her hair up, the final step in 'Madeline-izing' her. To me, this symbolized Madeline returning from the dead for Scotty- she was like a ghost to him.

But even before this there was another scene where Madeline was made to look like a ghost. It was the scene where she and Scotty walked through the forest. The scenery was extremely dark and hazy, and Scotty got lost in it because he was dressed in dark clothing, but Madeline shone brightly like a ghost in her white coat. This really stuck out to my eyes and disturbed me somewhat-- especially because this scene took place before Madeline 'died' for the first time, when I was still trying to figure out what the heck was going on with her character.

There was another odd camera trick that struck me that we talked about a bit in our class discussion but I'd like to add to. We brought up the first kiss shared between Scotty and Judy once she had been made over as Madeline, and how the scenery behind the two transformed into the old Spanish village. Yet, the way the scenery transformed reminded me of the big wave behind them when they shared their first kiss of the movie on the beach-- the way the scenery changed in almost a splashing fashion, and the vibrant blue of the sky, really brought me back to that first kiss scene.

The most interesting part of this movie, to me, is the way the audience really gets pulled into the obsession. While watching Laura I felt we were half a part of the obsession (that portrait was enough to dazzle and hypnotize anyone) but also half watching it and detached from it as we viewed the three men. I felt more pulled into Scotty's obsession- especially by the end of the movie. A part of me was really peeved by Scotty's irrational obsession, but I was more peeved that I was beginning to take part in it. Once I realized Judy really was Madeline, I was itching for her to dye her hair and to take off her scuzzy make up. I wanted her to be Madeline again, not Judy.

We said yesterday in class that Midge's character is the one we want to rely on as an audience from the beginning; we soon learn that she is not the normal, level-headed character we want her to be. By the end, even I as a viewer began to participate in the obsession that overwhelms every character in this movie in some way-- that was what made it truly jarring for me.

Week 3, Laura!

In class this week, we learned and read about the Femme Fatale type-- the dangerous woman. When thinking about this type in comparison to the character Laura, I think that she is almost the complete opposite in many ways. Really, the only danger to her is that she arouses a dangerous, unhealthy obsession in men. Other than that, I found her really pathetic. We discussed in class how Laura is like Kane in many ways, and whether or not we can or should even view her as a true person. Although they are similar, I say Laura is not completely like Kane-- yes, in both movies the main characters are dead and we can only see them through the biased eyes of others who know them. But there is a big difference here-- Laura gets to, in a way, come back from the dead; she has a chance to redeem her self as a true character with personality, and she doesn't. To me, Laura is either a naive and idiotic woman who does not realize that she is only viewed as an object by all of the men in her life, or else she is another kind if idiotic woman who realizes she is just a pretty jewel being passed around between three men and she's content with that.

When looking back on it, I realized it was pretty clear that Lydecker could easily be the killer. In the very first scene of the movie we see what a pompous and materialistic man he is-- his entire apartment is over-the-top and full of valuable little pretty possessions-- he yells at McPherson for even laying a hand on his belongings. After talking about it in class, it's clear that Lydecker's relationship with Laura is unorthodox and kinda creepy. There is no reason for the audience to believe that there is a true sexual relationship between the two, yet a level of infatuation and pure obsession within Lydecker is clear to everyone except Laura, who just goes along with being his lap dog. Later on, we experience Lydecker demanding that the gifts he had given to Laura are returned to him, emphasizing his possessiveness. All of these things are clues into Lydecker's mindset-- if he can't have Laura, then no one can.

Re-watching and discussing the scene of McPherson going through Laura's unmentionables, sniffing her perfume, and gazing passionately at her portrait in class really helped to highlight my feelings that Laura is viewed only as an object and when being looked at as a true person is quite pathetic and ignorant. Honestly, the picture of her on the wall has more presence and dominance than the woman herself. It is the portrait that constantly demands attention in so many scenes and that eventually causes McPherson's craze for Laura sexually. Laura herself simply goes along with whoever she is with at the time, and honestly does not make a hint of difference in the sequence of events herself.

Other than my vehemence toward Laura's character, and really toward the other characters in a way too, I thought this was an interesting movie. Not being familiar with old movies, film noir, or femme fatale, it was peculiar to be exposed to these things in a film that is not conventionally noir and does not have the typical femme fatale character. Our reading on the femme fatale type stirred my interest because to me this type just objectified women in another way, saying we can only be one of two things-- submissive, married, and family oriented or independent and powerful because of beauty and sexuality. I also think this type just turns around and makes men objects for women-- something that makes them feel good, powerful, and fulfill sexual fantasy, but also very disposable.

Week two, Third Man......

I've realized something odd about myself as a movie critic... other than I'm not a very good one. I realized that most of the time when I watch a movie I don't know if I like the film or not until afterwords when I research more about it, or discuss it with other people. I wish I wasn't like this, and could just judge a movie based on what I myself see and interpret, but I'm not that way. Maybe as this class goes on I will truly hone my own critical judgment and be able to figure things out better for myself, but we shall see...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5mB2qoBLdQ&feature=related

Overall, I followed and enjoyed 'The Third Man' better than I did 'Citizen Kane'. The first thing I noticed was the absurd, almost tropical sound of the music, which reminded me of Spongebob Squarepants off the bat (a show I'm perhaps a little bit too familiar with). The music didn't really "fit" the movie at all in conventional terms, and I can see how it annoyed the hell out of some people, but the music became a comedic thing for me as a viewer. A playful-sounding zither accenting a movie about post-war destruction, death, crime, etc. really added an odd element to the film-- but there were definitely times when the music chimed in and I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.

One thing that we both discussed in class and read in our article this week that struck me was how much the movie was about Harry Lime, and how little it really was about Holly Martins-- who was certainly the character with the most screen time by far. In fact, by the time I got to class on Thursday I had almost forgotten completely about Holly because I had been thinking about Lime so much after reading the article comparing him to Dracula. Then when we finally did discuss Holly Martins in class-- what kind of character he is, whether he's likable or not, etc. I realized I didn't truly know what I thought of him as a character. Thinking back on it, I sort of pity him, and look at him as this guy who really has no clue what he's doing, is naive, goes to a foreign place and expects everything to go his way, and of course it doesn't. Although I do see the side of him that we discussed- a gun's blazing, cocky American coming to save the world but really just messing it up-- I definitely still had a level of sympathy for him.

As far as Harry Lime goes, I thought the concept of him and Dracula being very similar characters was interesting. Throughout the whole movie I noticed the dark, beautiful yet broken shots of Vienna and it made me think of Gotham City. Going off that thought, and considering Harry Lime, I sort of compared him to the Joker in my head-- he is the villain, we know the terrible things he has done, but there is an undeniable playfulness and charm to him. It's easy to compare him to any likable villains really, some more likable than the actual "heroes" of the movie (Can Holly be considered a hero, even? Antihero, I guess, as we discussed)

So.. overall I think I'm getting a little better at this movie critic thing. I'm enjoy myself though, and I'm excited to (hopefully) grow into this more throughout the semester!

Citizen Kane

This was my first time seeing Citizen Kane, and to be honest I probably never would have seen it if it wasn't for this class, despite knowing it's considered the "best movie of all time". I think I have a prejudice against old movies, and automatically think that since they're so old they will have nothing to offer to today's society, or were poorly made because of lack of technology, or just really weren't innovative or developed in any way. Also, a lot of the time I feel like acting back in the day was completely one dimensional-- every single male played the exact same part the exact same way (all the action in the movie happens to him, he has a deep manly voice and dresses nicely and smokes a cigar) and the same goes for females in that time (the 'damsel in distress' type, always beautiful with a sing-songy voice).

Despite all of this, I was able to watch Citizen Kane in class and pay much more attention and get more out of it than I ever would watching it on my own. What really caught my interest had a lot to do with the things we talked about in class-- camera and filming choices and their motivations; I realized that these filmmakers made a lot more artistic and visual choices than most filmmakers do these days. They weren't just capturing scenes but capturing them in a way that gave layers of meaning.

One visual trick I noticed that we didn't cover in class is probably a more obvious one-- filming through fences. This was a shot that both opened and closed the movie. The entire point of a fence is to separate people and block others out-- these shots emphasized the viewers detachment from Kane, and really everyone in the film's detachment from him too. Like the Cardullo article said, because we are looking at Kane's life once it has already ended it, we can only see him through the biased, warped memories of acquaintances-- we never truly get to know him. Closing the movie with the same scene that opened it shows that we are no closer to truly understanding Kane at the end than we were in those first few seconds. There is another scene in the movie where Kane is filmed through fence spokes as well-- a shot where we view Kane old and alone before his death at Xanadu, and are told by narration that in his last years of life Kane was never photographed nor visited-- seeing him through a fence just highlights his total isolation at this time.

Overall I think experiencing Citizen Kane somewhat broadened my opinions of old movies. A movie isn't just about constant entertainment, but also about digging into the visual and dramatic choices to understand more than what is just presented openly. This isn't to say I'm going to run out and rent more older movies, but perhaps I didn't give some of them credit they deserve.