Bicycle Thief and Italian Neo-Realism

The Bicycle Thief may have been my favorite movie from this course. No doubt, I loved them all for their own differences and qualities, but there is just something so good about this movie. The acting was phenomenal for one thing, especially when you consider that fact that the Neo-Realist films from Italy were shot with regular people and not movie stars. The young boy especially shined. He was dynamic and such a tiny little mystery. Him, and everyone really, was so believable in their roles. And the events of the film are so realistic that its eerie at times. There were so many little realistic touches and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were planned or if they happened and the director decided to just go with it. For instance, when the boy and the man are running to get out of the rain and the kid falls in the street. It seems impossible that this scene was planned. The movie unfolded so much like real life that there are times when you forget it isn’t. I suppose that is what makes Neo-Realist films what they are. 

There are times in the movie when I didn’t like the main character because of the way he was handling his stress, and I realized that even that response was more natural and real than most films get from me. And the end. The abrupt, unsettling “Fine” left me aware of the struggle that it must have been for this man and his family and all the people of Italy at this time. The ending is not peaceful or “feel-good”, it is simply what it is. Everyone has had experiences like this where the bad things didn’t resolve themselves or end in miracles, they simply caused a new chapter. There are two ways to think about the end of The Bicycle Theif, I feel like: either the situation will push him into something different, but not worse, or it will ruin them. The fact that we don’t know which is the hardest thing to walk away with after this film, but its also refreshing in a way, because it is not fantastic, or fake, it simply is the story.

Ryan: All-in-One

The short film Ryan was one of those really strange films that is different from everything and weird but you can’t take your eyes off of. There was so much going on. The setting of their interview was so realistic, so mundane—like it is definitely a real place that looks exactly like that in real life just drawn over—but the people are all wild looking! They are externally being represented by their inner state of being; they physically wear they’re struggles and their mental afflictions. The fact that the dialogue is also all real dialogue from a live interview, only adds the the realistic effect of what is being represented, and boggles the mind even further. The mixing of genres that occurs in Ryan is brilliant: an experimental short animated documentary. Its a very singular idea, mixing so many styles together into this colorful imagination soup. 

The realization that what I was seeing was characters insides on the outside, had me scanning their images intensely, suddenly the mental investigator, trying to take in and piece together everything I thought was being represented. The way that their brain cells snapped and pulsed as they are connecting through this dialogue said that they got each other on a level that was deeper than all the other things going on. And the fact that the artist being interviewed was rail thin, with parts of his face and brain completely invisible, said that he is deteriorated, unrecognizable and vanishing from his own consciousness and the world around him. The ending, watching him weave through people for coins on the streets, knowing all that he was and all that he accomplished when he was well, only affirms the way the artist visually depicts him. 

History Unveiled in Gold Diggers of 1933

Some films just have an ability to capture an era really well. Though Gold Diggers of 1933 dulls down some of the real historical struggles of the era, like most films did at the time, it still digs deeper into the issues that many films of its nature were willing to. The girls, whose story we follow from the beginning, are at the mercy of the merciless Great Depression. And while we don’t see them emaciated and starving or homeless, their poverty isn’t played down. At one point they are even driven to steal the milk from the neighbor—a realistic jab at the breakdown of the moral fiber in a society whose economy is crippling the financial stability of its citizens. And the characters don’t hold back their frustration or sadness at having to share a dress to go to interviews or their devastation at the idea of losing a job or not being able to find one. 

The entire premise of the movie is about a wealthy brother trying to protect the fortune and reputation of his younger brother. His intentions, though not wholly good, do stem, at least in part, from a desire to protect his brother from somebody that might just be after him for his money. This is only further evidence that the times were unstable. One of the strongest statements made in this film, however, is made in the final scene. It is both a commentary about the struggle of The Depression, but also the implied injustice of the powers that be who took men from their jobs, ruined them with war, and then left them to fend for themselves on the poverty stricken streets. Films from this era often glorified war and soldiers, but few made such bold statements about the effects of it or the consequences it has on the lives of those that fight in it like Gold Digger of 1933 did.

The Girl with the Pearl Earring: The Art of Cinematography

Cinematography is one of the most incredible talents, and obviously one of the most important aspect of the filming process. The ability to use a camera to emphasize important elements of a scene, or to drive the plot, or to make a scene stand out and more memorable is not only highly artistic, but invaluable to the experience for the makers and the viewers. The Girl with the Pearl Earring has some of the most unforgettable cinematography I have ever seen. The scenes themselves become paintings! The use of color and light by the cinematographer is breathtaking and shows an artistic ability that is more than comparable to proposed talent of the main character in the film himself. 

Each frame, in this film, becomes an empty patch of canvas, which is then magically transformed into obscenely beautiful images. All of the scenes are gorgeous, but most specifically, the scene where Griet and Pieter are walking through the trees with the sunlight breaking in sideways; this scene looks more like a painting than film. The oversaturated colors that are almost muted by the light, if that is a thing, resemble the brush strokes of a painted 1600s scenery. It is like an impression of reality, rather than reality itself, which is actually really characteristically unique in comparison with most films.

Its a movie that I want to watch again… several times at least. The hardest thing to get over while watching it, is that it is actually moving. While some might criticize this film for being too slow, I am almost tempted to criticize for the opposite; I would go as far as to say that if the film could just stop sometimes so that I could drink it in, I would be perfectly content with that. This movie was something that requires the viewer to admire and ponder it like a piece of art and not just a moving picture.

Singin’ In the Rain: Sound in Cinema

Probably the most interesting aspect of Singin’ in the Rain is their attention to the development of sound in cinema, and how they play with and reveal the challenges of this major transition in the industry of film. The movie’s comedy often uses these challenges, like the scene when Lina Lamont just can’t understand where the microphone is and suddenly they are forced with the horribly unsuccessful task of trying to find a place where the microphone might actually work to pick up the dialogue. For a student of this modern, digital film industry that we know and navigate today, I couldn’t help but appreciate the advancements they have made in sound technology while watching this scene—

especially the improvements they have made to the wires that run sound. The wire leaving Lamont’s dress is this massive, probably heavy, and obviously uncomfortable hose of a thing. Today, if I even use wired sound, as wireless is also an option, the cord is a tiny thing, much easier to conceal. My appreciate is, of course, even more pronounced, when I consider the advancements that have been made in microphones themselves. The microphone Lina has to speak into is unmanageably gigantic, and heavy, and probably cold, seeing as it is made of shiny, hard, metal.

Of course, the recording process was not the only challenge of the studio’s transition to sound. The syncing of the sound was obviously a work in progress at the onset of this development as well, which Singin’ In the Rain exemplifies in the hysterical scene where Lina’s “No No Nos” are suddenly coming from the villain’s nodding figure, and his “Yes yes yeses” are coming from her emphatically shaking head. 

The saddest realization, however funny is was portrayed in the film, was the reality that some people who may have been major stars in the industry, were silenced forever basically, because they no longer had the right voice or accent for the part. Though it is sweet justice to see this destroy the horrible and villainous Lina Lamont’s career, the implication of what it meant to actors of films during the time is actually pretty devastating to think about.

The Unforgettable Quality of Get Low

Get Low has one of those kinds of narratives that sticks with the viewer long after the film is over. Driving home from class I was still thinking about the story and the cinematography from the movie. I realize, that sometimes, movies are just great movies; but sometimes, great movies are also great stories. That isn’t to say that movies aren’t all stories in their own way, but it is not often that the story itself is what stands out among the rest of the features of a film. We might leave a film and say, “gosh that main character, what an actor!” Or, “How on earth did they get those shots of them in that car chase?” Or, “Did you see those special effects?” But, for me, the question I found myself asking after watching this film was, “where did they come up with that amazing story?” And interestingly, the story, is about stories. How does a life play out in the minds of everyone else? Watching Robert Duvall’s character, Felix, hunt down people for their stories of him, I couldn’t help but wonder: “what stories would I find about myself if I did the same?” 

Part of the the brilliance is probably that the narration in this film is beautifully carried from one part of the story to the next, in a lot of really interesting ways. There are a number of scenes where one or more of the characters is actually driving or walking from one destination to the next, or aimlessly through a forest even, and it is never boring. This is because the filmmakers, aren’t just using these moments of movement to move the story along, but I think also to emphasize the “journey” that is taking place throughout the film, only further building up the impact of the story itself. The scenes in these takes, are full of vibrant cinematography, a reminder perhaps, that life is about the journey as much, if not more, than the destination, and it should be enjoyed and experienced because it is beautiful, regardless of the good or the bad.

Elements of Mise-en-scene in Road to Perdition

Road to Perdition uses a lot of elements of mise-en-scene to comment on themes and motifs within the movie and to enhance the artistic experience. Color, for instance, stand out in a major way throughout the film. The beginning of the film uses almost all drab colors. Gray comes to mind most readily, but there are also hints of other deep and neutral colors like brown and blue. Everything, though surprisingly beautiful in its own elegant and rich way, is really very dark and depressing. Texture is used to add to the felling and tone of the movie. All the of the clothing is made of fabric that is clearly textured, thick and sturdy. The house the story begins in is full of real wood fixtures and furniture. Nothing is extravagant but everything is ornate, in a way, and authentic to the era of the film. The scene is so lavishly covered in authenticity that it feels as though we have actually entered it. And the drab, dark neutral color scheme helps this because  it blends into the darkness that surrounds the screen of the tv and makes it almost plausible that the screen is just a part of the whole and we are standing in the off-screen space.

The most impactful aspect of the movie, for me, was the use of the rain. The rain is present when the oldest son find out who is father really is and the evil he is capable of, and it is present again later when the father guns down the mobsters responsible for the death of his wife and son. The rain seems to symbolize of the inner emotional storms that are happening in the characters. The characters of the film are hard, even the surviving son, and their pain and emotions are rarely externally expressed. The film’s use of strong weather in various scenes throughout the film are effective devices for expressing internal character developments and responses to the action in those sequences.