Saturday, 10 October 2015

Macbeth (2015)

Having studied Macbeth in A level Literature, I already knew the story relatively well, and it holds its place as my favourite Shakespeare play (out of those that I've read, at least). I was pretty excited when I heard about the film, and hoped it would live up to expectations. What I like most about Macbeth is the feeling of unease that is strong throughout the play, and I was hoping the film would manage to get this across. 

Justin Kurzel was given the daunting task of directing one of the most famous plays in history. Having only directed a handful of films, and not being known for any particularly big productions, Kurzel seemed like a strange choice, but it's safe to say he was definitely the right one. 

I was pleased to learn fairly soon into the film that the script was very true to the original. Although for some people this meant that the storyline was difficult to follow amongst the riddles of Shakespearian language devices. A major plot line is missed if you're confused by what the weird sisters mean by 'no man born of woman can harm Macbeth', and even if that is understood, it can be easily missed that Macduff was 'from his mother's womb untimely ripped', meaning that he was born via a caesarean, and therefore can in fact harm Macbeth; this is all stuff that is easily overlooked by someone who is new to the play. 

There were some minor changes in the plot,such as there not being three weird sisters, but in fact five, including a child and a baby. At the very beginning of the film, the opening scene also depicts what is shown to be a funeral for Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's baby. In the original play, Lady Macbeth hints to having previously given birth, but this is left ambiguous. Kurzel decides however to allow Macbeth and his wife to have once had a child; it is not obvious why he chooses to do so, but I can imagine he might have used this as a device to juxtapose the tender love shown towards the dead child, with the apathy and cruelty that is later  displayed. I don't think the child's funeral at the beginning added a whole lot to the film, and I found myself almost wanting Kurzel to push the boundaries further and experiment more with the play. Kurzel made a wise choice to not stray too far though; Shakespeare is adored globally, and I can imagine the horror on peoples' faces if they were to watch a version in which things are dramatically altered. 

The music was without doubt one of the best elements of the film, creating tension and unease in all the right places, and bringing to the screen the Macbeth that I envisioned while reading the play. Michael fassbender's performance as Macbeth was magnificent, truly portraying a man who begins to almost decay from power and greed. Marion Cotillard likewise played an impressive Lady Macbeth. However, the mental state of her character seems to be played down in the film compared to the play. While this only adds to the hegemonic view of women as mentally fragile, I believe Lady Macbeth's madness to be at the very core of what the play is about, and with Kurzel only showing a glimpse, this was one instance in which I felt the film was lacking something. 

The cinematography throughout the film was captivating, but actually the most impressive and artistic shots for me came as the credits rolled down the screen. After the film ends with birnam wood in flames, these flames continue into the credits as each shot of the desolate scottish hills are drenched in a beautiful red aura, resulting in an ending which is alluring and unsettling, both of which seem to summarise Macbeth itself. 

7.7/10





Tuesday, 8 September 2015

The Spirit of The Beehive (1973)

The year is 1940, and seven year old Ana lives in an isolated Spanish village with her parents and older sister Isabel in an eerily silent house. Director Victor Erice begins the film by showing Ana and her sister watching a production of Frankenstein in a makeshift cinema. Watching Frankenstein awakens something inside of Ana as she becomes curious and detached from reality, in hopes to find the monster she seems to sympathise with. Isabel tells Ana that if she closes her eyes and calls the monster then his spirit will come. After hearing her sister's words Ana attempts to find the monster's spirit, searching in a nearby abandoned sheepfold where she finds a large footprint. 

Ana does not find the monster, instead finding a fugitive soldier whom she cares for. The two never speak, although they are quite clearly found of one another. Silence is very characteristic of the film; with the long and still camera shots, the silence adds to the film's allure. The silence not only penetrates the camera work, but oozes into the film's character relations. The family are isolated from one another; Ana's father spends most of his time writing in his journal and tending to his honey bees, her mother harbors a secret in the form of letters, whilst her sister seems close to Ana, but somehow the two are still detached. Aside from the distance between the family, there is one touching moment when Ana, Isabel, and their father go mushroom picking, and it looks something of an idyllic family day out. 

Later when Ana goes missing the silence becomes disrupted as her family calls out to her in the middle of the night. Perhaps it is Ana who is the one that holds the family together; she may be quiet, but when she runs away the film hits an ultimate disequilibrium. 






So, the title of the film... what's it all about? Firstly, the theme of bees runs throughout. Ana's father is shown at the start of the film tending to his bee hives, collecting their sweet honey. The bees resonate elsewhere in the film, as the windows of the family house largely resemble the hexagonal structure of the inside of a bees nest, seeping through amber light. Erice only ever allows the symbolism of bees to remain trapped inside the windows, correlating with Ana's frame of mind - stuck between reality and her dream world in which Frankenstein's monster exists. 

Without doubt the most captivating essence of The Spirit of the Beehive is the use of the film's lighting. Soft glowing amber creeps in from the beehive-like windows, illuminating characters faces, while Erice masterfully employs shadow and reflection, perhaps hinting to a world outside of reality, just beyond the light. 


7.2/10




Monday, 13 April 2015

Zooscope Publications!

For Part of one of my final year University modules  about the representation of animals in film, I wrote some articles on some films with animals in, and they have been published on an online archive. Here they are: 

The Plague Dogs - Dir. Martin Rosen. United Artists. 1982 : https://zooscope.english.shef.ac.uk/articles/66


The Selfish Giant - Dir. Clio Barnard. IFC Films. 2013 : https://zooscope.english.shef.ac.uk/articles/56


(there are also two shorter entries to come) 

Friday, 30 January 2015

Ex Machina (2015) (Published by Forge Press)

Original publication here

Known for his role as writer and producer of films such as Never Let Me Go, and 28 Days Later, Alex Garland steps into the director’s seat for the first time with his latest film Ex Machina.
26 year old programmer Caleb (Domhnall Gleeson) wins a competition in which the prize is to spend a week with the CEO of Bluebook, Caleb’s employer. After travelling for hours via helicopter Caleb reaches the remote residence where Nathan (Oscar Isaac), the founder of Bluebook lives. Nathan has created an artificial intelligence he calls Ava (Alicia Vikander), and he requires Caleb to decide whether Ava can potentially pass as human by means of a Turing test.
The film is shot within Nathan’s house for much of the running time, creating an intense sense of entrapment and isolation. Although the camera barely ventures outside the walls of the house, the film remains engaging throughout.
You don’t have to be a fan of sci-fi to enjoy Ex Machina. Although the plot bases itself around the idea of artificial intelligence, the way the film builds suspense and shrouds itself in mystery also allows it to work as a thriller, captivating audiences from the start.
As soon as the film begins the audience is unaware of exactly what is happening, Dramatic irony is not something that the film uses, leaving audience members in the dark. It is only until the film reaches its conclusion that much is revealed, shedding light on the mysterious events.
The cinematography is both haunting and captivating, paired with the striking sounds of the film to form a constant level of uneasiness. The film’s strongest point certainly lies within the unsettled encounters between characters, which would not have been so easily achieved if it were not for such strong performances from Isaac and Gleeson.
However, it is Vikander’s performance as Ava that steals the show. Her interactions with Caleb are always met with a certain unsettled air, and it is because of this that they are some of the most mesmerising scenes.


The sheer intelligence of the film is highly impressive, and raises questions about what it is to be considered human. Sci-fi can often seem too fantastical to believe what we see on screens, but Ex Machina presents a believable version of what we might imagine artificial intelligence to be like some day in the future.
It is difficult not to envision where the film is heading, as the film seems to toy with various possibilities of an ending, only for it to land upon one nobody could have predicted. The ending may not satisfy everyone, but it certainly strays from predictability, which is often hard to achieve.
Ex Machina feels like the work of someone who has mastered the art of cinema, which is why it is all the more impressive that this is the first time Garland has taken on the role of director.
The film not only presents us with ideas of advanced technology, but also forces us to question human existence.
8/10


Friday, 12 September 2014

Fantastic Planet (1973)

Fantastic Planet is a truly awe-inspiring film creation, and is the work of French director René Laloux. It is not clear exactly when the film takes place due to the fact it is set on an unfamiliar planet, although generally it is thought to be a depiction of the future. It is based on the novel Oms en série, by the French writer Stefan Wul, and the planet is the native home of huge blue alien-like creatures named Draags, who also share the planet with human beings known as 'Oms'. They are minute in size compared to the Draags, who capture the Oms in order to domesticate them as pets. A Draag child named Tiva domesticates an Om she finds on her travels, and names him Terr. As Tiva is still a child, she undergoes many info sessions, in which Terr is able to retain much information about the Draags and the fantastic planet itself.

Terr is somewhat rebellious, and obviously not cut out for the domesticated life, and so when he gets a chance decides to run away. He stumbles upon many savage Oms with which he cohabits and reveals to them the knowledge he has gained, allowing the Oms to fight back against the Draags. 




Fantastic Planet uses cutout stop-motion animation, which is another reason as to why the film is so impressive. Each movement that takes place has to be photographed in order to make the movements seem continuous, demonstrating just how much time and effort went into its production. Although the process of the animation was certainly slow, this does not impact the visuals, as Fantastic Planet is visually pleasing throughout and is filled with an abundance of  detail. The planet consists of many bizarre creatures and plants, which add a certain charm and capture much of the viewers attention. The animation was produced in Czechoslovakia, so perhaps these surreal elements were influenced by Czech cinema which produced many surrealist works. 

Many see the film as allegorical, likening the plot to the fall of man. Whether Laloux intended Fantastic Planet to be an allegorical work or not is ambiguous, yet there is no doubt the film works best when left to the viewers interpretation. The one and only downside to the film is the little depth of the characters, and it is somewhat frustrating that we as an audience never receive more than mere conversation between them. That being said, Fantastic Planet is one of the most original creations in animation, and although it is of a sci-fi nature, it is most definitely appealing to many. 

8/10

Monday, 8 September 2014

Pierrot le Fou (1965). A response to the following: ‘Women used automobiles as vehicles of resistance to conventional gender roles and the strictures of a normative femininity’. To what extent do you agree with Sidonie’s reading of what happens to women on the road?

An essay for university from a module on road journeys

Jean-Luc Godard’s Pierrot le Fou (1965, France) depicts the character Marianne Renoir as a free-spirited, strong female character. And indeed, as she takes to the road Marianne begins to defy conventional gender roles, and takes on more of a masculine role, using cars as a means of resistance. We can explore the ways in which Godard uses the syntax of the film in order to portray Marianne as an unconventional female character, and whether cars are always needed to resist conventions of gender roles.                                                                                                                                                      
Cars play a major role in the film, even before the road is introduced. Near the beginning of the narrative we enter a party scene, in which a male guest talks about an Alpha Romeo. He parodies an advertisement for the car, pointing out qualities such as the ‘luxurious interior’ and the ‘great traction’. He says this whilst looking at two women either side of him, in what seems to be a display of authority through the paradigm of the powerful car; he appears to suggest that a powerful car equals a powerful man. This idea is exemplified through the mise-en-scène, particularly through the composition of the man standing central in the shot, whilst he is framed by two women either side of him. The fact that he is central and standing compared to the women who sit exerts his dominance. Thus, it appears that power and automobiles correlate with one another before the road is introduced.                                                                                                                                                  
Gender conventions are established within the same scene before we are introduced to Marianne, so these conventions act as a template, to which we can compare Marianne’s resistance to the female role. These conventions are established when the women the man talks to about the car are utterly disinterested and begin talking of beauty products. Already we are injected with the notion that powerful and dangerous products such as cars relate to men, whereas feminine products based around beauty relate to women, establishing the normative gender roles. Therefore, the typical male identity is represented as strong, whereas the conventional female identity is represented as vulnerable and appearance-based.                                                                                                                  
We first acknowledge Marianne’s resistance to the strictures of femininity when we view her through a car windscreen. Viewing Marianne and Ferdinand through a windscreen seems to mimic the act of watching a film itself, and thus brings our attention to the fact that we are watching a fictional event through the use of reflexivity and meta-cinema. Godard uses this throughout and may be commenting on the way female characters can easily break the boundaries of feminine conventions in fictional narratives, whereas in reality this may not be the case.                                                       

When we initially witness the car, each street light that passes over the windscreen alternates from blue to red; colours we come into contact with throughout the film. Red and blue are present in both national flags, and the use of these colours is possibly Godard’s way of blending together American and French culture. Godard was fascinated with American culture and we can see this in the film, which almost certainly derived from the script for Bonnie and Clyde (USA, 1967), which at one point was offered to Godard. Indeed, there are obvious connections between female characters Bonnie and Marianne, both of whom break the boundaries of conventional female roles through the genre of the road narrative.                                                                                                                           
 In the film we certainly see this Americanisation of the French new wave, balancing the American genre of the road journey with the aesthetics of French cinema. When Ferdinand searches for Marianne he asks a bystander if she’s seen a woman looking like a Hollywood star, which links to the idea that Godard creates characters who envision themselves as actors in American films. Portraying Marianne as a Hollywood star places her within the frame of a conventional female, because we imagine Hollywood stars to conform to gender conventions, not able to resist the strictures of femininity as Smith suggests.  
                                                                                                                      
When we first witness Marianne in the car Ferdinand says: ‘Don’t you like American cars?’ to which she replies: ‘Sure’. However, before doing so we receive a close up shot whereby she looks directly into the camera lens, and thus acknowledges the presence of the audience. By acknowledging our presence as America is mentioned, perhaps Godard is commenting on the use of the male gaze in Hollywood cinema. Laura Mulvey indicates a possible way out of the male gaze through alternative representations informed by feminism and avant-garde cinema. It is possible to view new wave cinema, particularly Peirrot le Fou, as avant-garde due to the experimental aesthetics in the film. When Marianne looks into the lens she becomes conscious of the fact that as a female in cinema, she is viewed through a male lens and is therefore breaking the boundaries of gender conventions through the acknowledgement that she is placed there for male gratification, and in looking directly at us she seems to defy the male gaze. Marianne breaks the fourth wall throughout the film. This first instance in which she does so she is inside the car, therefore we may propose that being on the road enables her to resist how women are viewed in cinema.                                                        

Marianne’s power over Ferdinand seems to shift whether she is inside or outside the car. Marianne climbs into the driver’s seat of a car which is lifted for an oil change. The car, and therefore Marianne are physically much higher than Ferdinand, and Godard appears to utilise the shot composition to assert Marianne’s power over Ferdinand through spatial awareness. However, perhaps the film implies that women cannot always dominate men, as when Marianne moves to the passenger seat, the car simultaneously moves down to ground level, and therefore the same level as Ferdinand, indicating the hierarchy of gender is now balanced.   
                                                                   
The film’s syntax shows how Marianne defies the strictures of gender when inside the car, and submits to gender conventions when outside the car. After burning a car they use, Marianne is depicted as infantile and the power shifts onto Ferdinand. Ferdinand leads Marianne through water, and compositionally she is always behind him. Here Godard utilises props, such as a child’s soft toy which Marianne holds, indicating her vulnerability and innocence; traits that denote ‘normative’ femininity, and show women as the weaker sex. Ferdinand lifts Marianne down a hill, and we view them centrally through the shot, framed by nature. Perhaps Godard is suggesting that men are naturally more dominant than females, who are more infantile and need protecting, with the characters displaying their ‘natural’ roles, with the natural setting reflecting their intrinsic gender performances.                                                                                                                                                                                  
On the contrary, Marianne does indeed resist conventional genre roles in natural environments, without a car. The film’s syntagmatic connotation places Marianne in an evolutionary position of the hunter-gather, as we witness a long shot of her catching a fish with a spear she has created. It then cuts to a shot of Ferdinand firing an arrow, yet he does not catch anything, followed by a short cut of Marianne with yet another fish. Thus, framing Ferdinand’s failure with Marianne’s success allows the female to dominate the male as we compare shots. Although she is not in a vehicle at this point, she is still technically ‘on the road’. This particular scene takes place on the beach; another natural setting. Therefore, Godard may in fact be suggesting that gender conventions are actually socially constructed, and so in a natural setting away from society, male and female ‘conventional’ roles become blurred, with females no longer obliged to perform traditional gender roles.                                                                                                                                    
Towards the films denouement Marianne is depicted as a powerful female. A point of view shot from Marianne’s perspective is used as we see the shot through the sniper scope. We do not often see women kill men in films, and the act of physically killing a man is perhaps the ultimate resistance to the strictures of the female role, eradicating the opposite sex so that she has total control. Marianne shoots two men while they are in a car, therefore the car acts as a symbol of female empowerment, yet becomes a symbol of disempowerment for men. A close up of the men is shown through the sniper lens, whilst the rest of the mise-en-scène is completely black, centering our attention onto their panicked faces. In doing so, they are displayed as highly vulnerable; a trait often aligned with normative femininity. The camera is static while we see Marianne driving away, emphasising her freedom; contrasting with the immobility of the dead men and car, exemplifying their powerlessness as opposed to her power.
                 
 Before we are introduced to the road, the film establishes normative gender conventions. However, when Marianne enters an automobile and thus enters the road, she begins to defy them. Marianne resists conventions when she is able to travel away from society in which these conventions are created, and it is the car which enables her to do so, becoming the ultimate, (but not always essential) symbol of female power. Thus, I agree with Smith’s statement, because Marianne resists the strictures of her female role through the road. However, Marianne is killed, ending the film with death, as many road narratives do. She is shot off the road away from liberation, and so by ending the film with her death, this may be suggesting that in reality women cannot flourish whilst resisting conventional gender roles, without being quite literally shot down.







Friday, 29 August 2014

Style Dissection:Twin Peaks

Audrey Horne
Audrey Horne is in my opinion one of the most, if not the best dressed on the show. She can be often seen sporting business attire, or more of a casual look, but either way she seems to pull off her chosen look with ease. 


Pleats and turtlenecks; two of my favourite things

 Androgynous slick back hair 

Two tone brogues 


Classic LBD




Shelly Johnson 


It's not often we see her outside of her cafe uniform, but when we do Shelly always seems to look pretty great. 


Flattering scoop neck lines, and a classic black velvet dress.


Delicate lace and soft headbands.

She even looks good in night wear.


Josie Packard 
Owner of the mill, Josie Packard  is a professional business woman, and this is often represented through her fashion choices. Even though her look is ultimately androgynous, this takes nothing away from the fact that her outfits are always on point.


A faux (I hope) fur coat is always a great choice. 

Androgyny at its finest 

High waist trousers and shoulder pads.


Donna Hayward
Whatever Donna wears it always seems to be very flattering, and her character is perhaps the most versatile in terms of fashion. She never seems to linger over a particular style, but nevertheless every looks works extremely well for her.

More turtlenecks, and a bold plaid coat with a flattering straight shape.

Adorable frilly peter pan collar and sleeves. (This is definitely my favourite top in the show).


Knotted headband and chunky cardigan.