Notorious and its Relation to Hitchcock as Auteur
Alfred Hitchcock searched the dark depths of mankind in many of his films. For this and other reasons, many proponents of the auteur theory are quick to name him as a prominent auteur- one of the best ever. Notorious, one of his well-known classics, provides an excellent example of his style. While it exemplifies his style, it also veers away at times from some of his typical ideas.
Hitchcock fits the idea of the auteur. Most of his films have similar themes, narrative styles, character situations, and other connectable traits. Notorious fills many of these elements, most notably in its narrative. Hitchcock used irony of quarlixastd in many of his films to build suspense. This particular type of irony comes when the audience knows something the character does not. It creates a sort of helpless feeling by the viewer, who may feel a desire to warn the character of upcoming danger. Of course, the viewer cannot talk to the characters, and the film tugs at the viewer’s emotional connection with the particular character.
Hitchcock was a master of this narrative style. This technique, in fact, is arguably the main stamp of any Hitchcock film, and has become a must today for any horror or suspense film. Psycho, the classic suspense movie that helped spawn a mass of serial killer or “slasher” movies, exposes the Bates Motel as a dangerous place after Lila Crane’s murder. The viewer, if he or she has any emotional connection with the characters, may internally scream, “Don’t go in there!” In Vertigo, the viewer hears the confession letter of the fake wife while the detective is gone, but she decides not to tell him when he comes back. This scene builds tension, because the detective originally thought of that exact situation, but he has no proof. The viewer may want to tell him, “Keep at it! You’re right!”
Notorious, in this sense, fits well with Hitchcock’s style. The viewer knows that Alicia’s marriage to Alexander is for a reason- she is a spy. The viewer also knows later that he has figured Alicia out, but she does not know. Also, the viewer knows that Alexander poisons her coffee, but again, she does not. This knowledge, like most of Hitchcock’s movies, makes the viewer feel a desire to help the character, especially here, because Alicia is the heroine and her husband is a bad man- he’s Nazi war criminal.
The themes of Hitchcock’s films vary, but several story elements appear often. Many of the elements of noir films (without getting into genre discussion too much) apply to Hitchcock films: murder, deception, detective work, financial crimes, and adultery. Psycho may focus on a murderer, but Lila ends up at the Bates Motel because she needs to escape. She has stolen money from her boss, and she is also having an affair. Vertigo deals with a man who creates an elaborate scheme to kill his wife, make it look like a suicide, make her look crazy, and throw everyone off while he gets away as a victim. He hires a lady to act as his wife and deceive the detective. Dial M for Murder contains a man’s plot to kill his wife for both money and revenge for her adultery.
Notorious belongs to a group of Hitchcock films that tackle these subjects on a grander scale. The marriage is deception, and the Nazi criminals living in Brazil are doing quite well, so it fits some of the noir elements. This film, however, is not just between several American citizens. It deals with government action, and that differs from the previous films. Hitchcock used somewhat similar scenarios in North by Northwest and The Man Who Knew Too Much. These films may deal with murder, deception, and money, but on a larger scale of dangerous government agents and complex international scandals.
Recurring themes mix with similar characters to create certain situations that appear often in Hitchcock’s films. As with noir films, the narrative usually has a detective or investigative agent. Psycho and Vertigo have regular detectives, while Notorious has an F.B.I. agent investigating the Nazis. North by Northwest and The Man Who Knew Too Much focus on undercover F.B.I. agents.
Another element of Hitchcock films that deals with a specific character is mental stability. Often, one character has a mental illness or a psychological flaw, and it can get worse as time goes on. The most obvious example of this is Norman Bates. He is the Psycho. His mother’s abuse and their obsessive relationship drove him to an extreme personality disorder. Vertigo focuses on the detective’s fear of heights, and the villain uses this flaw against him. His guilt intensifies when he cannot save the wife from jumping off the tower, and he becomes invalid for a period of time. Rear Window’s protagonist grows more and more unstable as the film goes on. By the end, he has lost touch with reality. The murderers in Rope are disturbed to start out with, and as the one becomes more daring, the other gets very paranoid. Marnie focuses on its title character, a very erratic woman.
Notorious does not have an obviously disturbed character, which separates it from the norm. It does, however, hint at a few mental problems. Alicia’s poisoning leaves her in a confused, sick, eventually delirious state. While not an innate flaw (and more of a physical problem), her sickness alters her mind’s clarity. The relationship between Alexander and his mother pales in comparison to the Bates’, but the mother’s harsh demeanor evokes similar feelings. Both mothers feel jealous and suspicious of the females connected to their sons.
Hitchcock films also often have attractive young females who appear vulnerable. Sometimes these women are stereotypical damsels in distress, like in The Birds. Sometimes, these female characters have secrets to hide, and their past ties into the criminal plot. As mentioned, Lila from Psycho steals money and has an affair. The detective in Vertigo follows who he believes to be an erratic wife, but she is not the real wife. Marnie, the disturbed young title character, initially hides her problems. Family Plot, Hitchcock’s last film, focuses on a phony psychic woman.
Notorious contains a perfect example of this female character in Alicia, because she is both secretive and good. She is young, attractive, and vulnerable. She has a past; the whole reason she needs to spy is because her father was a war criminal. She cannot enjoy his riches unless she helps the United States in its investigation. She has secrets, and she deceives her husband, but she is really a good person at heart. When her lover rescues her, she becomes the poor, innocent damsel.
Characters of Hitchcock films may also deal with some kind of isolation. Ian Cameron points out the isolation of Lila and Norman during their meal in Psycho, and of how their conversation amidst the stuffed game reflects this feeling (65). Rear Window contains an extremely isolated main character. Each day the loneliness wears on him more. The fake wife of Vertigo becomes an isolated stranger. Because of the deception usually involved, this is a common feeling amongst many other characters as well.
Although Notorious has some elements in common with North by Northwest and The Man Who Knew Too Much, one thing that it misses is a case of mistaken identity. Even though most of the characters are deceiving, Notorious does not have an accidental identity mishap like these two (and several other) films by Hitchcock.
The setting of Notorious differs from many Hitchcock films. Although the opening sequences are in Miami, most of the movie takes place in Brazil. Hitchcock films do not generally use exotic settings. Some of the spy films such as The Man Who Knew Too Much take place overseas, but most of Hitchcock’s films are set in America. He did make some Europe-based films while he was still working over there in his younger days, but after he came to Hollywood, he chose the United States much more often as a setting.
Hitchcock focuses often on the darkness of mankind, specifically emphasized by one or a few characters. The situation is just within this smaller, personal group of people. His movies tend to show just how evil or demented people can be. His characters that do wrong fall into several categories. The first category includes simple, weak men (and women) who make horrible mistakes. The husband in Vertigo exemplifies the criminal who is selfish and evil, but not a super villain. He kills his wife, which is an atrocious act, but he is not a huge danger to society. Lila from Psycho is no evil mastermind, but she makes a very poor decision. The second category contains mentally ill characters like Norman Bates, Marnie, and Jeff in Rear Window. They have problems, which excuses them in some ways from contempt. Even Norman, the killer psychopath, comes off at the end as a totally demented child, though he was aware of the harm “his mother” did.
These characters all have flaws and are despicable in many ways, but Notorious reaches the true depths of humanity with the Nazis. The inclusion of Nazis is another facet of Notorious that stands out from most of Hitchcock’s films. The previously mentioned characters were evil and criminal in many ways, but the Nazis represent a far darker reality.
Reality is an important word because Hitchcock’s villains are usually realistic in many ways. He does not create fake monsters; these are real people committing real crimes that could happen, and have already. The atrocities that the Nazis pulled off during the war overshadow the bad people of other Hitchcock films that usually focus on just a few bad individuals. Notorious, admittedly, also does focus on a few bad individuals, and it has personal conflicts, but these individuals are part of a larger evil not seen in most of Hitchcock’s other films. The spy films like The Man Who Knew Too Much contain secretive government enterprises, which is somewhat related, but it is still not as powerful as including the Third Reich.
The auteur theory suggests that every great director has stylish characteristics in his films. It also suggests that an auteur has an interior meaning for his films, a tension between the director and his material. Hitchcock dealt, quite simply, with bad people doing bad things. Every film starts with a crime. His tales of the dark side of human nature might initially suggest intense pessimism about humanity as an interior meaning, but the way these films end suggests that things are not so bleak.
Hitchcock endings are usually not very happy and bright, but they also are not always terribly bleak. Notorious has one of the happiest endings for a Hitchcock film. Alicia’s lover rescues her before she gets deathly sick, and they have the evidence against Alexander. Most of the endings do provide closure to the story, which is important for Hitchcock films, as they are classic Hollywood films.
Most of the endings also include a sense of justice. The criminals usually pay for their mistakes in some way. Notorious ends with the case against the Nazis pending. In the cases of deception and cheating, the cheaters are often caught or killed. The irony of Vertigo comes at the end when the fake wife panics at the sight of a ghost (which it is not), feels grief and guilt, and jumps to her own death. Lila dies, and though it is not because of her wrongdoing, it keeps her from being a totally innocent victim. Her crime leads her to the motel, so one could argue that it is her fault, in a way, when she encounters danger. Norman gets locked up in the end, so that provides safety and justice.
Hitchcock perhaps was sending the underlying message that these people got what they deserved. Many innocent people died and were harassed repetitively in his films, but the traitors often fall to an almost supernatural type of justice. This justice is almost like karma, as if the crimes of these characters have made them cosmic candidates for trouble. The decisions the criminals make come back to hurt them in the end.
All of these characteristics Notorious follows many of the characteristics typical of an Alfred Hitchcock film, but it has a few exceptions. Even though it has a happy ending, this film’s Nazi villains hint at something even darker than Hitchcock’s typical criminal. Hitchcock was an auteur for the evil things that people do. Notorious is a classic example of Hitchcock’s suspense wizardry. The thriller lies within a long line of work by perhaps the most respected director ever.
Film reviews, criticism, discussions, rants, raves, and random pictures of Philip Seymour Hoffman.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Dead Poets Society
In the autumn of 1959, classes began for a privileged group of young men in New England. These boys started their semester at the Welton Academy, an expensive private school where almost all of the graduates reach the Ivy League. They were all following the orders of their parents, who expected them to succeed and go on to major careers.
This is the setting for Dead Poets Society. Director Peter Weir and writer Tom Schulman have created an environment of upper class adolescence- a school where the richest boys in New England go to prepare for college. This school, with all its glamorous tradition, gets a jolt from new teacher (and former alum) John Keating. Keating tries to change things and be different, and for this he gets into trouble. In this sense, Weir’s finest movie shows his disdain for the ordinary. Dead Poets Society is Weir’s personal attack on conformity.
Weir succeeds in providing an emotionally stirring movie that is also aesthetically pleasing. The setting is quite breathtaking. As Frank Scheck says, “John Seale’s photography is gorgeous, giving the film an autumnal glow”(618). This film was shot at a private school in Delaware (even though it was supposed to be in Vermont) with magnificent architecture and a forest environment that is particularly stunning in the winter scenes. The lighting reflects the dramatic mood. There are a lot of scenes at night or in the school that are very dark, giving the film a somber feel to it.
The film does not contain a lot of scores (except for the final scene). Most of the music is diagetic. Music is important to several scenes - records playing while the boys kick soccer balls, jive music on a homemade radio, the dance music at Chet’s party, the flighty music at the play, and the somber chorus at Welton on opening day. The triumphant score in the last scene of this film ties everything together well and accentuates the epiphany of one student.
Weir likes to use long shots that show the class as a group. Of ten he will film their activities as though he was an onlooker from far away, especially when they are outside. In the school, he usually shoots the boys in their dorm rooms from the hallway. These scenes are much more personal and conversational. The editing style also changes when the film goes indoors; there, Weir uses more reverse shots (and more shots in general). Outside, he uses a lot of long takes. In fact, most of his shots last more than a few seconds, except for a few intense conversational scenes.
He enjoys framing people in medium and close-up shots in personal scenes, especially the scene at Chet Danberry’s party. This is one of the few scenes where he gets into the head of the character, spinning the camera to evoke Knox (one character)’s drunken state. Often, he has different levels of positioning people. He does not move the camera around too much; many shots are still. There are a few scenes where he follows people walking or riding bikes, but for the most part he does not move the camera in shot. There is one particular scene of Knox searching for his girl, a frantic long take as Weir follows him around the public high school.
The acting is exceptional. Robin Williams stars as Mr. Keating in a role that got him an Oscar nomination. Scheck doesn’t think that Williams is used correctly and that he could be less restrained (617). Of course, this restraint would also fit his character, who is fighting the school’s old ways to teach his students in the manner he likes. He uses sports to help them remember poetry. He instructs them to rip out the pages of a textbook he thinks is useless. He encourages them to think of something besides the businesses they are about to control, the careers they are going to have, and the prestigious colleges they are about to attend. He teaches them to savor the finer moments in life.
The young men who play his students have mostly gone on to successful careers, and they are all surprisingly effective in this film. The two main characters are Todd Anderson (Ethan Hawke) and Neil Perry (Robert Sean Leonard). The other main boys are Knox Overstreet (Josh Charles), Charlie Daulton (Gale Hansen), and Richard Cameron (Dylan Kussman). Each boy has a particular problem to deal with. Todd’s older brother was a valedictorian, but Todd has no social skills. Neil has a lot going for him, but he must be respectful to his commanding father (Kurtwood Smith). Knox wants a girl who is already going out with a tough football star. Cameron is too strict, and Charlie is too disruptive. They all must overcome their separate problems throughout the film.
They way that Weir tells his story is a major part of the film’s success. He uses a restricted, objective narrative for most of the movie. We really don’t get to see into the heads of any characters (except for Knox’s one scene). He follows the traditional three-act format well. In the opening of the film we (the audience) are introduced to all of the major characters as they move into the school. We also get a hint of the problems that they may have, seeing Neil’s dad reprimand him; Todd’s immediate shyness at meeting Neil; and the actions of all the other boys. We are introduced to the school and the headmaster, who talks about the tradition they have.
The real action starts when the boys sit down for their first class with Mr. Keating, who instructs them to go down to the lobby and look at the nostalgic pictures of old students. He challenges them to “seize the day…make your lives extraordinary.” Later he gives them a reading of Shakespeare’s Macbeth in John Wayne’s voice, which Robert Seidenberg claims is the best part of the movie (57). The boys sit in amazement at Mr. Keating, who is unlike all the straight and unimaginative teachers they have had. They discover that he once went to Welton and founded a group called the Dead Poets Society. They decide to bring it back.
Eventually, the boys begin to change. They have learned from that class to be individuals, and they start doing things they would not have earlier. The meetings they have late nights at the cave of the Dead Poets Society only further encourage them to be different. Knox tries to get the girl he wants but cannot have. Neil decides to get into acting, which is not something his father would approve of. Mr. Keating even gets a response out of the quiet Todd in class. All of the boys are feeling great about themselves when the mood shifts.
The pint of no return in the movie comes when Neil lands the starring role in the play A Midsummer Night’s Dream. His father tries to make him quit but he does it anyway. Then his father pulls him out of Welton and prepares to send him to a military academy. Neil kills himself because he cannot face that future. This night is the climax for several people: Neil, because it is his high point and also low point; Mr. Keating, because it is what will lead to his dismissal; and Knox, because he pleads for one last chance with his crush- and gets it. After Neil’s suicide, the teachers at Welton decide that Mr. Keating’s influence caused Neil to reach for unattainable goals.
The last scene of the movie is Todd’s epiphany. As Mr. Keating is clearing out his office, Todd stands up on his desk in protest. The shyest kid in the class becomes the leader, which shows how he overcame his problem. The last shot of the movie is from Keating’s point of view as he sees Todd standing and smiling at him (through someone else’s legs, as they are all standing on desks).
Gary Hentzi believes that Weir is definitely an outsider in Hollywood and that this movie deals with his ideas on culture (3). The main point of this film is that the boys have been such dutiful sons and need the injection of creativity that Keating gives them.
There is one scene where the headmaster approaches Keating and asks him about his unorthodox teaching methods. Keating replies that a good education should teach kids to think for themselves and ask questions about everything. This is Weir’s thesis for the film: too much conformity is harmful for these students. How can they learn if they are unable to be creative and express their true emotions? The headmaster wants Keating to teach them poetry and leave them on their own. This conflict of conformity vs. creativity is present throughout the entire movie in many different ways: Knox (who is creative) vs. Chet (who is a dumb jock, it seems), Neil vs. his dad, and Keating vs. the headmaster.
This is probably the masterpiece of Peter Weir’s career. It was nominated for Best Picture in 1989 and won Best Original Screenplay (Seidenberg 57). He has also directed famous movies such as Witness, The Year of Living Dangerously, and The Truman Show. Weir has a style that Hentzi calls “new age humanism”(5). His films are usually about society and how one person dares to defy it. This film goes along with that idea, as Mr. Keating tries to fight conformist ideas in the high society that is Welton. He succeeds, though tragically.
Dead Poets Society remains a classic film of inspiration. Although it includes a lot of heartbreaks, the film makes a strong case against conformity. Peter Weir’s masterpiece touches anyone who has ever been in a classroom environment and challenged the metonymy of high school education. It was an easy choice to screen for this course, but it could be seen in any school setting. The lessons that the students received that year at Welton Academy were more important to their lives than any major class they could take.
Works Cited
Hentzi, Gary. “Peter Weir and the Cinema of New Age Humanism.” Film Quarterly. Winter 1990-91. 2-11.
Scheck, Frank. “Dead Poets Society.” Films in Review. December 1989. 617-18.
Seidenberg, Robert. “Dead Poets Society: Reciting Tom Schulman.” American Film. July-August 1989. 57.
Weir, Peter. Dead Poets Society. Video: Touchstone Pictures, 1989.
This is the setting for Dead Poets Society. Director Peter Weir and writer Tom Schulman have created an environment of upper class adolescence- a school where the richest boys in New England go to prepare for college. This school, with all its glamorous tradition, gets a jolt from new teacher (and former alum) John Keating. Keating tries to change things and be different, and for this he gets into trouble. In this sense, Weir’s finest movie shows his disdain for the ordinary. Dead Poets Society is Weir’s personal attack on conformity.
Weir succeeds in providing an emotionally stirring movie that is also aesthetically pleasing. The setting is quite breathtaking. As Frank Scheck says, “John Seale’s photography is gorgeous, giving the film an autumnal glow”(618). This film was shot at a private school in Delaware (even though it was supposed to be in Vermont) with magnificent architecture and a forest environment that is particularly stunning in the winter scenes. The lighting reflects the dramatic mood. There are a lot of scenes at night or in the school that are very dark, giving the film a somber feel to it.
The film does not contain a lot of scores (except for the final scene). Most of the music is diagetic. Music is important to several scenes - records playing while the boys kick soccer balls, jive music on a homemade radio, the dance music at Chet’s party, the flighty music at the play, and the somber chorus at Welton on opening day. The triumphant score in the last scene of this film ties everything together well and accentuates the epiphany of one student.
Weir likes to use long shots that show the class as a group. Of ten he will film their activities as though he was an onlooker from far away, especially when they are outside. In the school, he usually shoots the boys in their dorm rooms from the hallway. These scenes are much more personal and conversational. The editing style also changes when the film goes indoors; there, Weir uses more reverse shots (and more shots in general). Outside, he uses a lot of long takes. In fact, most of his shots last more than a few seconds, except for a few intense conversational scenes.
He enjoys framing people in medium and close-up shots in personal scenes, especially the scene at Chet Danberry’s party. This is one of the few scenes where he gets into the head of the character, spinning the camera to evoke Knox (one character)’s drunken state. Often, he has different levels of positioning people. He does not move the camera around too much; many shots are still. There are a few scenes where he follows people walking or riding bikes, but for the most part he does not move the camera in shot. There is one particular scene of Knox searching for his girl, a frantic long take as Weir follows him around the public high school.
The acting is exceptional. Robin Williams stars as Mr. Keating in a role that got him an Oscar nomination. Scheck doesn’t think that Williams is used correctly and that he could be less restrained (617). Of course, this restraint would also fit his character, who is fighting the school’s old ways to teach his students in the manner he likes. He uses sports to help them remember poetry. He instructs them to rip out the pages of a textbook he thinks is useless. He encourages them to think of something besides the businesses they are about to control, the careers they are going to have, and the prestigious colleges they are about to attend. He teaches them to savor the finer moments in life.
The young men who play his students have mostly gone on to successful careers, and they are all surprisingly effective in this film. The two main characters are Todd Anderson (Ethan Hawke) and Neil Perry (Robert Sean Leonard). The other main boys are Knox Overstreet (Josh Charles), Charlie Daulton (Gale Hansen), and Richard Cameron (Dylan Kussman). Each boy has a particular problem to deal with. Todd’s older brother was a valedictorian, but Todd has no social skills. Neil has a lot going for him, but he must be respectful to his commanding father (Kurtwood Smith). Knox wants a girl who is already going out with a tough football star. Cameron is too strict, and Charlie is too disruptive. They all must overcome their separate problems throughout the film.
They way that Weir tells his story is a major part of the film’s success. He uses a restricted, objective narrative for most of the movie. We really don’t get to see into the heads of any characters (except for Knox’s one scene). He follows the traditional three-act format well. In the opening of the film we (the audience) are introduced to all of the major characters as they move into the school. We also get a hint of the problems that they may have, seeing Neil’s dad reprimand him; Todd’s immediate shyness at meeting Neil; and the actions of all the other boys. We are introduced to the school and the headmaster, who talks about the tradition they have.
The real action starts when the boys sit down for their first class with Mr. Keating, who instructs them to go down to the lobby and look at the nostalgic pictures of old students. He challenges them to “seize the day…make your lives extraordinary.” Later he gives them a reading of Shakespeare’s Macbeth in John Wayne’s voice, which Robert Seidenberg claims is the best part of the movie (57). The boys sit in amazement at Mr. Keating, who is unlike all the straight and unimaginative teachers they have had. They discover that he once went to Welton and founded a group called the Dead Poets Society. They decide to bring it back.
Eventually, the boys begin to change. They have learned from that class to be individuals, and they start doing things they would not have earlier. The meetings they have late nights at the cave of the Dead Poets Society only further encourage them to be different. Knox tries to get the girl he wants but cannot have. Neil decides to get into acting, which is not something his father would approve of. Mr. Keating even gets a response out of the quiet Todd in class. All of the boys are feeling great about themselves when the mood shifts.
The pint of no return in the movie comes when Neil lands the starring role in the play A Midsummer Night’s Dream. His father tries to make him quit but he does it anyway. Then his father pulls him out of Welton and prepares to send him to a military academy. Neil kills himself because he cannot face that future. This night is the climax for several people: Neil, because it is his high point and also low point; Mr. Keating, because it is what will lead to his dismissal; and Knox, because he pleads for one last chance with his crush- and gets it. After Neil’s suicide, the teachers at Welton decide that Mr. Keating’s influence caused Neil to reach for unattainable goals.
The last scene of the movie is Todd’s epiphany. As Mr. Keating is clearing out his office, Todd stands up on his desk in protest. The shyest kid in the class becomes the leader, which shows how he overcame his problem. The last shot of the movie is from Keating’s point of view as he sees Todd standing and smiling at him (through someone else’s legs, as they are all standing on desks).
Gary Hentzi believes that Weir is definitely an outsider in Hollywood and that this movie deals with his ideas on culture (3). The main point of this film is that the boys have been such dutiful sons and need the injection of creativity that Keating gives them.
There is one scene where the headmaster approaches Keating and asks him about his unorthodox teaching methods. Keating replies that a good education should teach kids to think for themselves and ask questions about everything. This is Weir’s thesis for the film: too much conformity is harmful for these students. How can they learn if they are unable to be creative and express their true emotions? The headmaster wants Keating to teach them poetry and leave them on their own. This conflict of conformity vs. creativity is present throughout the entire movie in many different ways: Knox (who is creative) vs. Chet (who is a dumb jock, it seems), Neil vs. his dad, and Keating vs. the headmaster.
This is probably the masterpiece of Peter Weir’s career. It was nominated for Best Picture in 1989 and won Best Original Screenplay (Seidenberg 57). He has also directed famous movies such as Witness, The Year of Living Dangerously, and The Truman Show. Weir has a style that Hentzi calls “new age humanism”(5). His films are usually about society and how one person dares to defy it. This film goes along with that idea, as Mr. Keating tries to fight conformist ideas in the high society that is Welton. He succeeds, though tragically.
Dead Poets Society remains a classic film of inspiration. Although it includes a lot of heartbreaks, the film makes a strong case against conformity. Peter Weir’s masterpiece touches anyone who has ever been in a classroom environment and challenged the metonymy of high school education. It was an easy choice to screen for this course, but it could be seen in any school setting. The lessons that the students received that year at Welton Academy were more important to their lives than any major class they could take.
Works Cited
Hentzi, Gary. “Peter Weir and the Cinema of New Age Humanism.” Film Quarterly. Winter 1990-91. 2-11.
Scheck, Frank. “Dead Poets Society.” Films in Review. December 1989. 617-18.
Seidenberg, Robert. “Dead Poets Society: Reciting Tom Schulman.” American Film. July-August 1989. 57.
Weir, Peter. Dead Poets Society. Video: Touchstone Pictures, 1989.
Sunday, February 5, 2006
Alernative cinema & the auteurs: an academic reading
The idea of the auteur began with the writings of French critics in the Cinema du Cahiers magazine. These critics, such as Francois Truffaut, argued that many classical Hollywood directors were the true authors of their films. Even though these directors had less power than most do today, the French critics claimed that many directors could place their own creative stamp on films. This changed how academics looked at old films, especially Hollywood genre films, and set up a new discourse in film studies.
The auteur theory started in France, but Andrew Sarris brought it to America. Sarris explained the Cahiers idea of a director as the true author of a film. For example, Alfred Hitchcock directed a number of films in the thriller and mystery genres. He worked within the Hollywood system and had financial success producing films for a mass audience. Proponents of the auteur theory would argue that Hitchcock was an exceptional artist because he put his own personal style into these popular films. The films were a result of his artistic vision, even though the Hollywood system involved large crews working on films. He is the true “author” of his films, according to the theory.
Auteur critics used the theory to study many directors who worked within the old studio system. John Ford, Howard Hawks, Preston Sturges, and Billy Wilder were just a few of the directors that auteur critics looked at. The critics admired the ability of Ford to create his own style while pumping out Western after Western each year. Their writings impacted some of their own films they would later make, as well as other European filmmakers.
As the European filmmakers wrote about auteurs in classic Hollywood cinema, they began to make their own films. These films and their writings influenced a new generation of American filmmakers. As film became a major in universities in the 1960’s, students learned the technique of classic filmmakers and studied the auteur writings. They became very interested in the European writings and new films.
As more students went to film school, the European filmmakers gained influence. As David Cook notes, Hollywood was struggling through financial problems and facing its lowest output ever in the late 1960’s. Europeans were winning critical respect while American box office numbers were dropping. Studios began to look for young directors who would follow the European model and speak to the youth audience. The first generation of film students provided a fresh view on films that Hollywood sought, especially after the success of unorthodox, youth-driven films like Easy Rider and The Graduate.
These young directors, as Cook notes, were trained in the auteur theory and came at low prices to studios. These directors, however, did not function in the same way as the older directors they studied. By 1970, many of the larger studios were breaking up or being sold to major corporate conglomerates. The studio system, undone by court rulings over antitrust laws, had been falling apart for years. Directors were no longer tied to specific studios. They had the opportunity to work on a film-by-film basis. Sometimes, they even had the chance to write and/or produce the film as well. Some successful new directors, like Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas, would even make enough money to start their own studios for independent production of films. Directors were not the only ones getting more freedom. Actors, who traditionally stayed in front of the camera, began looking for ways to direct, write, or produce their films.
The major filmmakers of the new generation thus had more freedom to become auteurs. Even though the Cahiers critics admired directors who worked within a strict system, the new filmmakers used their freedom to create films those critics would be proud of. They used their expansive historical knowledge of films to create new films with a sense of that history. As Cook puts it, unlike classical directors or more recent ones who began their careers in television, these new filmmakers had studied “film as film.”
The new filmmakers were openly aware of their artistic desires. They made their films with the artistic intent first. Even though money usually defeats art in the film industry, studios thought they could speak to the new generation, and the students often knew more about film that some of the new corporate leaders that had taken over studios, as Cook points out. If they reached the target youth audience, the studios were happy. It helped that the ratings system, which came into effect in 1968, allowed for films to use sex and violence in more overt ways than ever before. This helped them emulate the Europeans and attract teenagers.
The auteurs of this era approached their films in different ways. Some focused on blockbusters, films with high budgets and expansive advertising campaigns that managed to pull in major profits. Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Coppola (although he funded a lot of personal projects) all created blockbusters that reshaped the industry. By the end of the decade, studios began to focus on producing these big hits and ignoring smaller projects.
Just as classical directors were praised for their vision amongst financial success, these new directors achieved auteur status, despite their creative freedom. Critics noted the positive views of humanity and hope expressed in Spielberg’s work. They admired the folklore and technical wizardry of Lucas. Coppola’s exploration of the dark, psychological sides of humanity made him successful.
Not all of the new auteurs, however, followed this path. Martin Scorsese made a name for himself with many great films, but rarely achieved tremendous financial success. Scorsese focused on gritty portrayals of rough characters, especially ethnic New Yorkers. Scorsese established himself as an auteur quickly, but he is hard to classify. He remains an artist who works independently, but his films have achieved enough financial success that he has a brand name of sorts. He is, in a way, in the middle of the spectrum between independent directors like John Cassavetes and big budget directors like Steven Spielberg.
These two directors are an interesting comparison. Spielberg, considered a young maverick in the 1970’s, is now the golden standard in Hollywood. He usually has a large budget and excessive advertising on his films, striving for the “blockbuster” title and the riches it promises. Critics have accused him of going for high-concept “popcorn” films that are heavy on effects and action, but lacking in academic depth. Spileberg has, however, done serious films such as The Color Purple and, most famously, Schindler’s List. Still, Spielberg is primarily an auteur of fantasy and spectacle.
Cassavetes is another auteur that earned the maverick label in the post-war days, but his style differs greatly from Spielberg’s. Cassavetes made small, personal films on tiny budgets. He got friends and family to work on these projects in their spare time, with no hope for big profits. His films go for a rough, jarring style, rather than Spielberg’s cinematically flowing films. He tried to capture emotional intensity even if it meant showing technical flaws. Cassavetes was interested in intense character study and the improvisational skills of his actors. As Margulies notes, Cassavetes thought of himself as an amateur director, not a master. Still, he influenced many filmmakers and created his own style. He is an auteur as much as the other famous filmmakers of the time.
Today, the study of film has reached a new level. With improvements in technology and the dedication of historians to save films, students now can access almost any major film, and lots of minor ones. The auteur theory still appears in film studies, with its focus on the film “brats” of the 1970’s as well as the classic Hollywood auteurs. Students have an in-depth knowledge of these directors and their styles, and many young filmmakers use techniques from the masters in their work.
There is a divide, however, between mainstream and independent directors. Many mainstream directors will work within a certain genre, just like some of the old masters. The corporate dominance of Hollywood leaves little room for these directors to express themselves artistically, although some manage. Tim Burton, for example, has had success with a very unique (often darkly humorous) style, as had David Fincher. Many directors, however, serve as pulp sellers to a corporate plan.
Independent directors are more likely to focus on the artistry of film and imprint a personal style on their films. Wes Anderson and Quentin Tarantino have made fame by doing things their way, with specific aspects recognizable as their style. These films sometimes end up in art houses, where the profit pales in comparison to megaplexes, but their filmmakers can earn financial success. There are, however, few truly independent directors. Even the small companies that produce offbeat films are often owned by the large corporations that control major studios (the next essay will address this in more depth). Still, many filmmakers today do strive for auteur status. The idea that a director can become a brand name, such as Tarantino, suggests that the director will have a loyal following of fans to see new films.
The auteur theory has influenced several generations of filmmakers, and it still holds influence today. Modern filmmakers like Paul Thomas Anderson strive to get the auteur label, even as Hollywood remains in a stage of corporate mergers and advertising dominance. The future generations of filmmakers will study the past auteurs and learn from them. The ideas that Truffaut and others expressed in the 1950’s will live on, even as the industry changes.
Alternative cinema is cinema that gets its funding from independent sources, which has generally meant sources independent of major Hollywood studios. Today, that definition is changing, but alternative cinema remains a product not suited for the mainstream. Not only is the production of these films done outside the major studio system, but also the audience the filmmakers seek often is not the general populous that major Hollywood films do. Alternative cinema usually seeks specific audiences, which is how the entire process started many years ago.
Alternative cinema has been around for almost as long as major films have been made. The early alternative cinemas, as Ross describes them, were aimed at audiences who were excluded from decent representation in the major films. The groups that Hollywood ignored or mocked decided to make their own films for their own people. These films were screened in unconventional theaters for a specific audience. Ross explains that, after the success of the racially controversial epic Birth of a Nation, several blacks began making films of their own. They were black films made by black filmmakers for a black audience. They played in black parts of cities. They gave their audience a voice in film, even if the majority of America did not get to see them.
Ross notes that blacks were not the only minority group to make their own alternative films. Jews, disappointed at their non-existence in major Hollywood films (despite several Jewish film executives), began making their own films. They often used Hebrew as the language and, like the black films, played in cities to their specific audiences. Ross notes that homosexuals (although very rarely) and radical government groups also produced low-budget, alternative films for themselves. Extremists from the right and left, Ross notes, tried to influence public opinion with their documentary/propaganda or dramatic/propaganda films. Any minority group that felt underrepresented in Hollywood films could make their own films for cheap and advertise them through word of mouth.
Alternative cinema was more than just minority groups making films. Some documentaries played in small theaters, like Nanook of the North, a story about Eskimos that was partly constructed. People could find alternative theaters that played small productions from America and the rest of the world. Marxist groups screened Soviet films, and other controversial films from overseas made their way into small theaters. Some European films did well at the box office, so Americans had a chance to see non-Hollywood fare if they looked for it. Many did not, but small production companies continued to carry out cheap films. Some directors managed to squeeze in small art films, like John Cassavetes.
Cassavetes, as mentioned in the last essay, took a different approach to making films. He used his own money earned from Hollywood productions, along with the help of his actor friends, to finance personal films. Cassavetes is an extremely important figure in alternative cinema. He would serve as inspiration for later independent filmmakers who balanced Hollywood profit films with personal art projects. Dennis Hopper, Robert Redford, and others looked to Cassavetes as a model of working in Hollywood while still making the films that they wanted to. He set the standard for actors to be more involved in production.
Besides the art, race, and other forms of legitimate alternative cinema, there was the forbidden fruit of pornography. Pornography, as Ross explains, was also available from an early time in various places. Shortly after the Hays office opened, it disappeared from nickelodeons and was offered in private places or seedy theaters in rough urban areas. Pornography was considered “outlaw” cinema, and it was never promoted openly.
This was the pattern throughout the first half of the Twentieth century. Hollywood dominated the mainstream movie market, while a few minority films reached their specific audiences. Things began to change after the 1950’s. The antitrust laws that began the demise of the studio system promised more hope for independent production. The censorship codes were being stretched as well. By 1968, Hollywood would be in financial trouble. To reverse this, Hollywood instituted a ratings system. This allowed filmmakers to handle subjects that they could not touch previously. As mentioned in the previous essay, studios looked to young filmmakers experienced in European styles of filmmaking to produce films that would speak to the youth market.
At this point, Hollywood studios realized that they needed to market their films to audiences they had ignored before, or else they would continue to lose business. The youth market became their main goal, and they catered to young people of all kind. They began to include these marginalized groups into films often catered for the young people in each group. The most obvious example of this is the “blaxploitation” film.
Studios, as Ross notes, began backing independent black productions of films that starred black people in flashy, urban roles. Films like Superfly, Shaft, Foxy Brown, and others spoke to a young audience of urban blacks, who flocked to urban theaters to see these examples of black (anti) heroes. Studios made money off the kids, so they continued to finance these small projects for a few years. They eventually saw, however, that these films attracted negative attention, and turned once again towards making big films for more mainstream audiences. For a few years, independent black cinema brought in money, but after the wake of civil rights, Hollywood studios tried to blend minority groups into their mainstream, high-budget productions. They did not have as strong a voice.
An interesting development happened with pornography after the ratings change. It never became completely mainstream, but porn was allowed to advertise itself as explicit. The initial ratings labeled porn movies, as well as serious films with explicit content, with an ominous “‘X” rating that scared away many mainstream publications from advertising them. Porn makers used the controversy of the “X” rating, as Wyatt notes, to attract audiences interested in the extreme. Even though it was still marginalized, the porn industry thrived on its open availability. Wyatt points out that some of the early pornographic films were quite tame, but intrigued audiences that were not used to any explicit sexuality in films. Ross notes that some filmmakers made films right after the ratings system that crossed the line from serious to porn, such as Russ Meyer’s. Some early pornographic films like I am Curious (Yellow) and other European films presented serious ideas with a few explicit sex scenes. They bridged the gap, Wyatt says.
As time went on, however, pornography became less and less about filmmaking and more about sex. Serious films like A Clockwork Orange and Midnight Cowboy that received “X” ratings were eventually reduced to “R.” The “X” rating became exclusively a marketing tool for hardcore pornography. Today, even that has been replaced with an “NC-17” rating. Pornography is a large industry, but it remains clearly outside mainstream Hollywood production.
The youth trend that began in the late 1960’s continues today, but the way that independent films are made has changed. The studios that began hiring young, maverick directors realized that the successful ones were those who could come up with blockbusters, like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas. Independent-minded directors like Martin Scorsese and David Lynch, who broke in with the 1970’s crowd, soon found that major studios wanted to budget mainstream films again. In the era of corporate dominance, as said in the last essay, studios moved back to the spectacle of big-budget, high-concept films.
This left some of the artistic directors who gained fleeting success in the 1970’s to rethink their patterns. Scorsese made some films that could reap profits, but Francis Ford Coppola (after his initial success) and others had a rough time in the 1980’s. As conglomerates were swallowing up all the major studios, some filmmakers found ways to produce their films. Some turned to foreign producers for funds, knowing their art films would be popular around the world and earn back money overseas. Some began independent-minded production companies, like Harvey Weinstein at Miramax. Some relied on private contributions and their own savings. Independent cinema existed, but the general public often ignored it.
In the 1990’s, as corporate takeovers continued, studios noticed that they could make profits off of alternative cinema. Films that cost little but could bring in modest profits were attractive to companies that specialized in blockbusters. Many of the successful independent companies, like Miramax, were snatched up by major studios looking to dominate the market. Today, even most independent companies are affiliated with larger corporations. Disney owns Miramax, Sony has its Sony Pictures Classics line, Fox has its Fox Searchlight line, and so forth. Truly independent cinema is rare these days.
As a result, alternative cinema has changed. After the demise of the studio system in the late 1960’s, many films have been done by individual production companies and financed by studios, especially for distribution and advertising. Thus, filmmakers have some sense of freedom, but not entirely. Major studios often shy away from controversial subject matter, so they give them to the lower-budget wings. Art houses host these films that are deemed a little too risqué for mainstream audiences. Critics argue that truly maverick films, however, rarely make any splash. Studios reserve controversy and quirky, offbeat films for their “independent” branches, but they can refuse truly wild films.
Many critics bemoan the corporate dominance of today, expressing the thought that studios still ignore the minority groups that once used alternative cinema for expression. The same complaints that occurred during the Blaxploitation era come up nowadays in discussions about the representation of blacks in film. Even as more black actors became stars in the modern era, critics suggest that they do not help the community. Black critics accused Sidney Poitier and Bill Cosby of being “too white,” with the suggestion that Hollywood had simply taken away their identity as blacks to fit them into the mainstream. Many Hollywood comedies today pander to the stereotypes of the “wild black” people and the “stodgy white” people and what happens when they enter each other’s environment. Homosexuals, who finally achieved some respectability in the 1980’s, are often portrayed in stereotypical ways. Besides blacks, Italians, Southerners, Hispanics, and Arabs have also complained that they too often are villains in films.
Some alternative cinema focuses on feminist issues as well, but Hollywood seemed to repel the feminist movement in the 1980’s. As Ross notes, many of the films during this decade demonized women who sought careers and nontraditional roles. Thus, Hollywood has not truly accepted all the groups that once (and still do sometimes) used alternative cinema to express their frustration with Hollywood. Many critics would argue that Hollywood exploits these groups and tries to make them fit in to the mainstream, rather than accept them as who they are.
Alternative cinema has had a rich an interesting history, and many serious filmmakers today do try to continue its legacy. In this era of big business dominance, however, the original expression of alternative cinema is too often forgotten.
The auteur theory started in France, but Andrew Sarris brought it to America. Sarris explained the Cahiers idea of a director as the true author of a film. For example, Alfred Hitchcock directed a number of films in the thriller and mystery genres. He worked within the Hollywood system and had financial success producing films for a mass audience. Proponents of the auteur theory would argue that Hitchcock was an exceptional artist because he put his own personal style into these popular films. The films were a result of his artistic vision, even though the Hollywood system involved large crews working on films. He is the true “author” of his films, according to the theory.
Auteur critics used the theory to study many directors who worked within the old studio system. John Ford, Howard Hawks, Preston Sturges, and Billy Wilder were just a few of the directors that auteur critics looked at. The critics admired the ability of Ford to create his own style while pumping out Western after Western each year. Their writings impacted some of their own films they would later make, as well as other European filmmakers.
As the European filmmakers wrote about auteurs in classic Hollywood cinema, they began to make their own films. These films and their writings influenced a new generation of American filmmakers. As film became a major in universities in the 1960’s, students learned the technique of classic filmmakers and studied the auteur writings. They became very interested in the European writings and new films.
As more students went to film school, the European filmmakers gained influence. As David Cook notes, Hollywood was struggling through financial problems and facing its lowest output ever in the late 1960’s. Europeans were winning critical respect while American box office numbers were dropping. Studios began to look for young directors who would follow the European model and speak to the youth audience. The first generation of film students provided a fresh view on films that Hollywood sought, especially after the success of unorthodox, youth-driven films like Easy Rider and The Graduate.
These young directors, as Cook notes, were trained in the auteur theory and came at low prices to studios. These directors, however, did not function in the same way as the older directors they studied. By 1970, many of the larger studios were breaking up or being sold to major corporate conglomerates. The studio system, undone by court rulings over antitrust laws, had been falling apart for years. Directors were no longer tied to specific studios. They had the opportunity to work on a film-by-film basis. Sometimes, they even had the chance to write and/or produce the film as well. Some successful new directors, like Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas, would even make enough money to start their own studios for independent production of films. Directors were not the only ones getting more freedom. Actors, who traditionally stayed in front of the camera, began looking for ways to direct, write, or produce their films.
The major filmmakers of the new generation thus had more freedom to become auteurs. Even though the Cahiers critics admired directors who worked within a strict system, the new filmmakers used their freedom to create films those critics would be proud of. They used their expansive historical knowledge of films to create new films with a sense of that history. As Cook puts it, unlike classical directors or more recent ones who began their careers in television, these new filmmakers had studied “film as film.”
The new filmmakers were openly aware of their artistic desires. They made their films with the artistic intent first. Even though money usually defeats art in the film industry, studios thought they could speak to the new generation, and the students often knew more about film that some of the new corporate leaders that had taken over studios, as Cook points out. If they reached the target youth audience, the studios were happy. It helped that the ratings system, which came into effect in 1968, allowed for films to use sex and violence in more overt ways than ever before. This helped them emulate the Europeans and attract teenagers.
The auteurs of this era approached their films in different ways. Some focused on blockbusters, films with high budgets and expansive advertising campaigns that managed to pull in major profits. Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Coppola (although he funded a lot of personal projects) all created blockbusters that reshaped the industry. By the end of the decade, studios began to focus on producing these big hits and ignoring smaller projects.
Just as classical directors were praised for their vision amongst financial success, these new directors achieved auteur status, despite their creative freedom. Critics noted the positive views of humanity and hope expressed in Spielberg’s work. They admired the folklore and technical wizardry of Lucas. Coppola’s exploration of the dark, psychological sides of humanity made him successful.
Not all of the new auteurs, however, followed this path. Martin Scorsese made a name for himself with many great films, but rarely achieved tremendous financial success. Scorsese focused on gritty portrayals of rough characters, especially ethnic New Yorkers. Scorsese established himself as an auteur quickly, but he is hard to classify. He remains an artist who works independently, but his films have achieved enough financial success that he has a brand name of sorts. He is, in a way, in the middle of the spectrum between independent directors like John Cassavetes and big budget directors like Steven Spielberg.
These two directors are an interesting comparison. Spielberg, considered a young maverick in the 1970’s, is now the golden standard in Hollywood. He usually has a large budget and excessive advertising on his films, striving for the “blockbuster” title and the riches it promises. Critics have accused him of going for high-concept “popcorn” films that are heavy on effects and action, but lacking in academic depth. Spileberg has, however, done serious films such as The Color Purple and, most famously, Schindler’s List. Still, Spielberg is primarily an auteur of fantasy and spectacle.
Cassavetes is another auteur that earned the maverick label in the post-war days, but his style differs greatly from Spielberg’s. Cassavetes made small, personal films on tiny budgets. He got friends and family to work on these projects in their spare time, with no hope for big profits. His films go for a rough, jarring style, rather than Spielberg’s cinematically flowing films. He tried to capture emotional intensity even if it meant showing technical flaws. Cassavetes was interested in intense character study and the improvisational skills of his actors. As Margulies notes, Cassavetes thought of himself as an amateur director, not a master. Still, he influenced many filmmakers and created his own style. He is an auteur as much as the other famous filmmakers of the time.
Today, the study of film has reached a new level. With improvements in technology and the dedication of historians to save films, students now can access almost any major film, and lots of minor ones. The auteur theory still appears in film studies, with its focus on the film “brats” of the 1970’s as well as the classic Hollywood auteurs. Students have an in-depth knowledge of these directors and their styles, and many young filmmakers use techniques from the masters in their work.
There is a divide, however, between mainstream and independent directors. Many mainstream directors will work within a certain genre, just like some of the old masters. The corporate dominance of Hollywood leaves little room for these directors to express themselves artistically, although some manage. Tim Burton, for example, has had success with a very unique (often darkly humorous) style, as had David Fincher. Many directors, however, serve as pulp sellers to a corporate plan.
Independent directors are more likely to focus on the artistry of film and imprint a personal style on their films. Wes Anderson and Quentin Tarantino have made fame by doing things their way, with specific aspects recognizable as their style. These films sometimes end up in art houses, where the profit pales in comparison to megaplexes, but their filmmakers can earn financial success. There are, however, few truly independent directors. Even the small companies that produce offbeat films are often owned by the large corporations that control major studios (the next essay will address this in more depth). Still, many filmmakers today do strive for auteur status. The idea that a director can become a brand name, such as Tarantino, suggests that the director will have a loyal following of fans to see new films.
The auteur theory has influenced several generations of filmmakers, and it still holds influence today. Modern filmmakers like Paul Thomas Anderson strive to get the auteur label, even as Hollywood remains in a stage of corporate mergers and advertising dominance. The future generations of filmmakers will study the past auteurs and learn from them. The ideas that Truffaut and others expressed in the 1950’s will live on, even as the industry changes.
Alternative cinema is cinema that gets its funding from independent sources, which has generally meant sources independent of major Hollywood studios. Today, that definition is changing, but alternative cinema remains a product not suited for the mainstream. Not only is the production of these films done outside the major studio system, but also the audience the filmmakers seek often is not the general populous that major Hollywood films do. Alternative cinema usually seeks specific audiences, which is how the entire process started many years ago.
Alternative cinema has been around for almost as long as major films have been made. The early alternative cinemas, as Ross describes them, were aimed at audiences who were excluded from decent representation in the major films. The groups that Hollywood ignored or mocked decided to make their own films for their own people. These films were screened in unconventional theaters for a specific audience. Ross explains that, after the success of the racially controversial epic Birth of a Nation, several blacks began making films of their own. They were black films made by black filmmakers for a black audience. They played in black parts of cities. They gave their audience a voice in film, even if the majority of America did not get to see them.
Ross notes that blacks were not the only minority group to make their own alternative films. Jews, disappointed at their non-existence in major Hollywood films (despite several Jewish film executives), began making their own films. They often used Hebrew as the language and, like the black films, played in cities to their specific audiences. Ross notes that homosexuals (although very rarely) and radical government groups also produced low-budget, alternative films for themselves. Extremists from the right and left, Ross notes, tried to influence public opinion with their documentary/propaganda or dramatic/propaganda films. Any minority group that felt underrepresented in Hollywood films could make their own films for cheap and advertise them through word of mouth.
Alternative cinema was more than just minority groups making films. Some documentaries played in small theaters, like Nanook of the North, a story about Eskimos that was partly constructed. People could find alternative theaters that played small productions from America and the rest of the world. Marxist groups screened Soviet films, and other controversial films from overseas made their way into small theaters. Some European films did well at the box office, so Americans had a chance to see non-Hollywood fare if they looked for it. Many did not, but small production companies continued to carry out cheap films. Some directors managed to squeeze in small art films, like John Cassavetes.
Cassavetes, as mentioned in the last essay, took a different approach to making films. He used his own money earned from Hollywood productions, along with the help of his actor friends, to finance personal films. Cassavetes is an extremely important figure in alternative cinema. He would serve as inspiration for later independent filmmakers who balanced Hollywood profit films with personal art projects. Dennis Hopper, Robert Redford, and others looked to Cassavetes as a model of working in Hollywood while still making the films that they wanted to. He set the standard for actors to be more involved in production.
Besides the art, race, and other forms of legitimate alternative cinema, there was the forbidden fruit of pornography. Pornography, as Ross explains, was also available from an early time in various places. Shortly after the Hays office opened, it disappeared from nickelodeons and was offered in private places or seedy theaters in rough urban areas. Pornography was considered “outlaw” cinema, and it was never promoted openly.
This was the pattern throughout the first half of the Twentieth century. Hollywood dominated the mainstream movie market, while a few minority films reached their specific audiences. Things began to change after the 1950’s. The antitrust laws that began the demise of the studio system promised more hope for independent production. The censorship codes were being stretched as well. By 1968, Hollywood would be in financial trouble. To reverse this, Hollywood instituted a ratings system. This allowed filmmakers to handle subjects that they could not touch previously. As mentioned in the previous essay, studios looked to young filmmakers experienced in European styles of filmmaking to produce films that would speak to the youth market.
At this point, Hollywood studios realized that they needed to market their films to audiences they had ignored before, or else they would continue to lose business. The youth market became their main goal, and they catered to young people of all kind. They began to include these marginalized groups into films often catered for the young people in each group. The most obvious example of this is the “blaxploitation” film.
Studios, as Ross notes, began backing independent black productions of films that starred black people in flashy, urban roles. Films like Superfly, Shaft, Foxy Brown, and others spoke to a young audience of urban blacks, who flocked to urban theaters to see these examples of black (anti) heroes. Studios made money off the kids, so they continued to finance these small projects for a few years. They eventually saw, however, that these films attracted negative attention, and turned once again towards making big films for more mainstream audiences. For a few years, independent black cinema brought in money, but after the wake of civil rights, Hollywood studios tried to blend minority groups into their mainstream, high-budget productions. They did not have as strong a voice.
An interesting development happened with pornography after the ratings change. It never became completely mainstream, but porn was allowed to advertise itself as explicit. The initial ratings labeled porn movies, as well as serious films with explicit content, with an ominous “‘X” rating that scared away many mainstream publications from advertising them. Porn makers used the controversy of the “X” rating, as Wyatt notes, to attract audiences interested in the extreme. Even though it was still marginalized, the porn industry thrived on its open availability. Wyatt points out that some of the early pornographic films were quite tame, but intrigued audiences that were not used to any explicit sexuality in films. Ross notes that some filmmakers made films right after the ratings system that crossed the line from serious to porn, such as Russ Meyer’s. Some early pornographic films like I am Curious (Yellow) and other European films presented serious ideas with a few explicit sex scenes. They bridged the gap, Wyatt says.
As time went on, however, pornography became less and less about filmmaking and more about sex. Serious films like A Clockwork Orange and Midnight Cowboy that received “X” ratings were eventually reduced to “R.” The “X” rating became exclusively a marketing tool for hardcore pornography. Today, even that has been replaced with an “NC-17” rating. Pornography is a large industry, but it remains clearly outside mainstream Hollywood production.
The youth trend that began in the late 1960’s continues today, but the way that independent films are made has changed. The studios that began hiring young, maverick directors realized that the successful ones were those who could come up with blockbusters, like Steven Spielberg and George Lucas. Independent-minded directors like Martin Scorsese and David Lynch, who broke in with the 1970’s crowd, soon found that major studios wanted to budget mainstream films again. In the era of corporate dominance, as said in the last essay, studios moved back to the spectacle of big-budget, high-concept films.
This left some of the artistic directors who gained fleeting success in the 1970’s to rethink their patterns. Scorsese made some films that could reap profits, but Francis Ford Coppola (after his initial success) and others had a rough time in the 1980’s. As conglomerates were swallowing up all the major studios, some filmmakers found ways to produce their films. Some turned to foreign producers for funds, knowing their art films would be popular around the world and earn back money overseas. Some began independent-minded production companies, like Harvey Weinstein at Miramax. Some relied on private contributions and their own savings. Independent cinema existed, but the general public often ignored it.
In the 1990’s, as corporate takeovers continued, studios noticed that they could make profits off of alternative cinema. Films that cost little but could bring in modest profits were attractive to companies that specialized in blockbusters. Many of the successful independent companies, like Miramax, were snatched up by major studios looking to dominate the market. Today, even most independent companies are affiliated with larger corporations. Disney owns Miramax, Sony has its Sony Pictures Classics line, Fox has its Fox Searchlight line, and so forth. Truly independent cinema is rare these days.
As a result, alternative cinema has changed. After the demise of the studio system in the late 1960’s, many films have been done by individual production companies and financed by studios, especially for distribution and advertising. Thus, filmmakers have some sense of freedom, but not entirely. Major studios often shy away from controversial subject matter, so they give them to the lower-budget wings. Art houses host these films that are deemed a little too risqué for mainstream audiences. Critics argue that truly maverick films, however, rarely make any splash. Studios reserve controversy and quirky, offbeat films for their “independent” branches, but they can refuse truly wild films.
Many critics bemoan the corporate dominance of today, expressing the thought that studios still ignore the minority groups that once used alternative cinema for expression. The same complaints that occurred during the Blaxploitation era come up nowadays in discussions about the representation of blacks in film. Even as more black actors became stars in the modern era, critics suggest that they do not help the community. Black critics accused Sidney Poitier and Bill Cosby of being “too white,” with the suggestion that Hollywood had simply taken away their identity as blacks to fit them into the mainstream. Many Hollywood comedies today pander to the stereotypes of the “wild black” people and the “stodgy white” people and what happens when they enter each other’s environment. Homosexuals, who finally achieved some respectability in the 1980’s, are often portrayed in stereotypical ways. Besides blacks, Italians, Southerners, Hispanics, and Arabs have also complained that they too often are villains in films.
Some alternative cinema focuses on feminist issues as well, but Hollywood seemed to repel the feminist movement in the 1980’s. As Ross notes, many of the films during this decade demonized women who sought careers and nontraditional roles. Thus, Hollywood has not truly accepted all the groups that once (and still do sometimes) used alternative cinema to express their frustration with Hollywood. Many critics would argue that Hollywood exploits these groups and tries to make them fit in to the mainstream, rather than accept them as who they are.
Alternative cinema has had a rich an interesting history, and many serious filmmakers today do try to continue its legacy. In this era of big business dominance, however, the original expression of alternative cinema is too often forgotten.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Saturday, October 8, 2005
Local Hero: an academic reading
This is an academic approach I took to the great 1983 film, Local Hero.
Mac, the hotshot executive for Knox Oil, is the main character. Although there are some very interesting side characters and subplots, he is the protagonist. Mac wants to close the deal for his company so he will impress his boss and get ahead. Mac really needs to get away from the office and his fast-paced life, as he comes to discover.
The inciting incident is Mac going to Scotland in the first place. Mac’s world is disrupted by his assignment, because he’s usually a guy who does his work by telephone. This face-to-face travel is new to him, and he isn’t even Scottish, so it presents a challenge.
The second act tension centers around whether or not Mac and Gordon can make a deal for the town to build the refinery. It begins when Mac first makes an offer to Gordon, when he realizes that Gordon is also the accountant. It resolves with Ben rejecting them- Mac and Gordon cannot get a deal together at that point, but Mr. Happer may be able to.
The third act tension is, basically, can Mr. Happer fix things? Can he make Ben come to an agreement? He does, but not as expected.
It seems like this film is making a joke at the idea of small town pastoralism. Mac discovers that he yearns for the simple life that Gordon has with Stella, but as the townspeople show, they are not a bunch of sentimental fools- they want cash. Ben and Mr. Happer (and maybe Marina) seem to be the only ones who “get it.” Nature is very important is this film, as is love, and the two are connected throughout the film. I guess the theme, on a basic level, could be that money can’t buy happiness.
The subplot of Olsen and Marina comes into play nicely at the end. He uses her knowledge to impress Mr. Happer, and he then uses Mr. Happer’s plans for a observatory to impress her. Mac’s longing for Stella underscores his true desire to live a simpler life. Mr. Happer’s eccentric obsession with the sky underscores the importance of nature in the film, and it allows him to connect with Ben.
Mac goes from a skeptical, curious company man to a wannabe local. At first, he is uptight and wary of the area. He asks for a telephone and a charger for his briefcase and is shocked by the locals’ reaction to it. He admires the meteor showers and Northern lights with awe. As he learns to love the town, he relaxes. His leaves his watch with the annoying alarm in the sea. He tries to impress the locals with his toast. He tells Gordon very directly that he wants to switch places with him. He finally pronounces Gordon’s last name correctly. When he gets back to his apartment in Houston, he hangs up photos of his trip and looks at them longingly.
Gordon’s introduction sets up his character nicely. We instantly get a sense of him and his life. We know that he’s a relaxed hotel owner who has a very sensual relationship with his wife. We know that he has a good relationship with the townspeople. We know that he laughs at Mac’s formal requests and that he doesn’t take him too seriously.
First off, the scientists that Mac and Olsen visit early on seem to provide a goofy scene, but the introduction of Marina is important. They tell Mac and Olsen that she works in the area and to look out for her, which is what Olsen does later. Secondly, Mac’s initial meeting with Mr. Happer sets up the idea of nature and leaving a legacy. Mr. Happer wants to discover a comet to name after himself, but in the end he realizes that he can do more by funding the observatory.
A great example of dramatic irony comes with the townsfolk. We know that they are eager to sell and financially knowledgeable, but Mac does not. Besides giving the film humor, it makes us sympathize with Mac, knowing he is in for more than he bargained for. We also feel better for the townspeople, knowing they will not be fleeced by an important American corporation.
Forsyth does not waste time in setting up the world of the film. Within the first few minutes, we know the purpose of his assignment, the Texas business world he lives in, and the eccentricities of his boss. His back story, and Mr. Happer’s back story about the company and his eccentricities, gives us lots of information about the problems Mac will face. His character introduction, a young hotshot who’s good with over-the-phone deals but awkward with women, is apparent easily.
Mac, the hotshot executive for Knox Oil, is the main character. Although there are some very interesting side characters and subplots, he is the protagonist. Mac wants to close the deal for his company so he will impress his boss and get ahead. Mac really needs to get away from the office and his fast-paced life, as he comes to discover.
The inciting incident is Mac going to Scotland in the first place. Mac’s world is disrupted by his assignment, because he’s usually a guy who does his work by telephone. This face-to-face travel is new to him, and he isn’t even Scottish, so it presents a challenge.
The second act tension centers around whether or not Mac and Gordon can make a deal for the town to build the refinery. It begins when Mac first makes an offer to Gordon, when he realizes that Gordon is also the accountant. It resolves with Ben rejecting them- Mac and Gordon cannot get a deal together at that point, but Mr. Happer may be able to.
The third act tension is, basically, can Mr. Happer fix things? Can he make Ben come to an agreement? He does, but not as expected.
It seems like this film is making a joke at the idea of small town pastoralism. Mac discovers that he yearns for the simple life that Gordon has with Stella, but as the townspeople show, they are not a bunch of sentimental fools- they want cash. Ben and Mr. Happer (and maybe Marina) seem to be the only ones who “get it.” Nature is very important is this film, as is love, and the two are connected throughout the film. I guess the theme, on a basic level, could be that money can’t buy happiness.
The subplot of Olsen and Marina comes into play nicely at the end. He uses her knowledge to impress Mr. Happer, and he then uses Mr. Happer’s plans for a observatory to impress her. Mac’s longing for Stella underscores his true desire to live a simpler life. Mr. Happer’s eccentric obsession with the sky underscores the importance of nature in the film, and it allows him to connect with Ben.
Mac goes from a skeptical, curious company man to a wannabe local. At first, he is uptight and wary of the area. He asks for a telephone and a charger for his briefcase and is shocked by the locals’ reaction to it. He admires the meteor showers and Northern lights with awe. As he learns to love the town, he relaxes. His leaves his watch with the annoying alarm in the sea. He tries to impress the locals with his toast. He tells Gordon very directly that he wants to switch places with him. He finally pronounces Gordon’s last name correctly. When he gets back to his apartment in Houston, he hangs up photos of his trip and looks at them longingly.
Gordon’s introduction sets up his character nicely. We instantly get a sense of him and his life. We know that he’s a relaxed hotel owner who has a very sensual relationship with his wife. We know that he has a good relationship with the townspeople. We know that he laughs at Mac’s formal requests and that he doesn’t take him too seriously.
First off, the scientists that Mac and Olsen visit early on seem to provide a goofy scene, but the introduction of Marina is important. They tell Mac and Olsen that she works in the area and to look out for her, which is what Olsen does later. Secondly, Mac’s initial meeting with Mr. Happer sets up the idea of nature and leaving a legacy. Mr. Happer wants to discover a comet to name after himself, but in the end he realizes that he can do more by funding the observatory.
A great example of dramatic irony comes with the townsfolk. We know that they are eager to sell and financially knowledgeable, but Mac does not. Besides giving the film humor, it makes us sympathize with Mac, knowing he is in for more than he bargained for. We also feel better for the townspeople, knowing they will not be fleeced by an important American corporation.
Forsyth does not waste time in setting up the world of the film. Within the first few minutes, we know the purpose of his assignment, the Texas business world he lives in, and the eccentricities of his boss. His back story, and Mr. Happer’s back story about the company and his eccentricities, gives us lots of information about the problems Mac will face. His character introduction, a young hotshot who’s good with over-the-phone deals but awkward with women, is apparent easily.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
About a Boy
Hugh Grant has never had a more perfect role. Grant plays a selfish, shallow bachelor in the British romantic comedy About A Boy. Directed by brothers Chris and Paul Weitz, this film follows him as he learns that being shallow will eventually leave him alone and depressed.
Grant’s life is changed not by a woman, but by a young boy, Nicholas Hout, wholives with an unbalanced, flower-child mother. Grant first meets the boy at a session for single parents. He pulls off the callous role well, without any feeling towards his numerous love interests.
Of course, since this is a predictable romantic comedy, Grant begins to mature and become more sensitive. Hout constantly shows up at his house, bugging Grant to do cool things and teach him stuff. Grant is uneager at first, but with the boy’s persistence, eventually begins to act as a father figure. He then tries to capitalize on his newfound maturity to gain the affections of single mom Rachel Weisz. The movie moves from a typical beginning to a sappy, everyone-is-a-winner end.
The film does have a certain charm. Hout is cute as the boy who teaches Grant about maturity. Toni Collette plays the zany role of Hout’s mother well. Grant seems at ease with the callous bachelor part, but when the film tries to get serious, he looks out of place. The good new for audiences is that the film rarely tries to probe too deeply, albeit with a suicide attempt that seems out of place. For the most part, it remains predictable and cute, just another date movie on the cinematic landscape.
Grant’s life is changed not by a woman, but by a young boy, Nicholas Hout, wholives with an unbalanced, flower-child mother. Grant first meets the boy at a session for single parents. He pulls off the callous role well, without any feeling towards his numerous love interests.
Of course, since this is a predictable romantic comedy, Grant begins to mature and become more sensitive. Hout constantly shows up at his house, bugging Grant to do cool things and teach him stuff. Grant is uneager at first, but with the boy’s persistence, eventually begins to act as a father figure. He then tries to capitalize on his newfound maturity to gain the affections of single mom Rachel Weisz. The movie moves from a typical beginning to a sappy, everyone-is-a-winner end.
The film does have a certain charm. Hout is cute as the boy who teaches Grant about maturity. Toni Collette plays the zany role of Hout’s mother well. Grant seems at ease with the callous bachelor part, but when the film tries to get serious, he looks out of place. The good new for audiences is that the film rarely tries to probe too deeply, albeit with a suicide attempt that seems out of place. For the most part, it remains predictable and cute, just another date movie on the cinematic landscape.
Friday, July 8, 2005
The Life of David Gale
Capital punishment remains one of the most controversial political subjects in the country, but if you’re looking for insightful commentary, The Life of David Gale may be a disappointment. Kevin Spacey’s 2003 film is suspenseful and engaging, but lacking in political depth. I hadn't seen this, but wanted to familiarize myself with all of Spacey's work.
Spacey stars as David Gale, a Texas college professor and anti-death penalty activist. Ironically, he sits on death row after being convicted of murder. His alleged victim, played by Laura Linney, is a friend and fellow activist. The story begins when he agrees to an interview with famed reporter Bitsey Bloom, ably managed by Kate Winslet. During the week before his execution, Gale must convince Bloom that he has been framed. Much of the film consists of flashbacks to the time before the murder. As Gale discloses his story, Bloom starts to believe him and the suspense rises. Bloom’s discoveries lead to a shocking finish.
Director Alan Parker chooses to focus more on the suspense and the shock surrounding the murder mystery, rather than on the controversial subject of capital punishment. Because of this, the movie plays out like a typical thriller, not something probing like Dead Man Walking. Still, it has its philosophical moments, and the acting shines. Spacey carries a lot of the movie on his portrayal of the main character, and as he’s shown before, he is up to the task. Linney performs well as his friend and alleged victim. The Life of David Gale is undoubtedly captivating and entertaining, but on a different level than what one might expect in a film about capital punishment.
Spacey stars as David Gale, a Texas college professor and anti-death penalty activist. Ironically, he sits on death row after being convicted of murder. His alleged victim, played by Laura Linney, is a friend and fellow activist. The story begins when he agrees to an interview with famed reporter Bitsey Bloom, ably managed by Kate Winslet. During the week before his execution, Gale must convince Bloom that he has been framed. Much of the film consists of flashbacks to the time before the murder. As Gale discloses his story, Bloom starts to believe him and the suspense rises. Bloom’s discoveries lead to a shocking finish.
Director Alan Parker chooses to focus more on the suspense and the shock surrounding the murder mystery, rather than on the controversial subject of capital punishment. Because of this, the movie plays out like a typical thriller, not something probing like Dead Man Walking. Still, it has its philosophical moments, and the acting shines. Spacey carries a lot of the movie on his portrayal of the main character, and as he’s shown before, he is up to the task. Linney performs well as his friend and alleged victim. The Life of David Gale is undoubtedly captivating and entertaining, but on a different level than what one might expect in a film about capital punishment.
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