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. 


Friday 22 August 2014

Twin Peaks (1990-1991)

Mystery/crime series Twin Peaks, created by Mark Frost and David Lynch certainly emits cinematic qualities.  Twin Peaks oozes with its distinctive style, with certain episodes so bizarre that it can only be none other than Lynch behind them. Lynch himself appears in a handful of episodes when playing comedic character Gordon, an FBI chief, and friend of special agent Dale Cooper. It is ultimately Cooper's story that is followed, with the sheer charm and charisma of his character making him the perfect protagonist.

The plot begins when the body of school girl Laura Palmer is found, and it is obvious she has been murdered. From this event stems the course of the narrative, as Cooper, the sheriff and his Twin Peaks team attempt to solve the mystery of who killed Laura. As the investigation continues, it becomes clear that this is more than the average murder, and it seems that Twin Peaks and its inhabitants are hiding many secrets.

The first season concludes by revealing Laura's murderer. However, there is still much left unanswered, as seems to always be the case with Twin Peaks, and the second season delves into Cooper's past to uncover more mystery. Each episode leaves many things unanswered, revealing more secrets, thickening the plot even more, and whilst frustrating, much of the beauty of Twin Peaks stems from the way it leaves us in the dark.

The way the plot is constructed is wonderfully clever, and knowing that a lot of things were not decided upon before the production stage makes it all the more fantastic.

I'm particularly conscious of not revealing too much information, because really the only way to get across the feel of the show is for me to include lots of spoilers, so I would definitely recommend just watching it.

9.1/10

Monday 11 August 2014

Pixote (1981)

Fernando Ramos da Silva plays the role of Pixote, a young delinquent who roams the streets of Brazil, and leads a life of crime in order to survive. This role is not so far from da Silva's own life due to living in the poor conditions of Sao Paulo, adding to the verisimilitude of the film, and reduces the distinction between performance and reality. For the majority, Pixote is set within the walls of a youth detention institution, filled with those who are under eighteen and resort to crime in order to survive the streets.

Inside the detention institution, life is difficult for Pixote, as he witnesses much extreme violence and suffers the oppressive environment. But when Pixote and his friends return to the streets after breaking out of the detention institution, they meet Sueli, a flamboyant prostitute who joins the boys to form an unlikely group; In turn the youths devote their lives to crime once more. 



The raw and gritty nature of the film gives it an almost unearthly feel, and although each viewer is likely to feel distanced from the world in which Pixote lives, the way it is presented does not make it any less real.
There are some really memorable scenes in Pixote, some that are difficult to watch, and some so distinct they are hard to forget. The film is essentially genre-less, yet effortlessly manages to touch upon various emotions and consistently engage viewers. 

8.5/10


Sunday 13 July 2014

Trans-Europ-Express (1967)

Trans-Europ-Express is very typical of the French new wave, infused with self-conscious visuals, and constantly using reflexive techniques, making it one of the most meta-cinematic productions there is. The narrative consists of a film within a film, featuring the story of a screen writer played by the director of Trans-Europ-Express: Alain Robbe-Grillet. The film then follows the narrative of the prospective film the screen writer creates, which tells the story of Elias, who transports drugs from Paris to Antwert via train, hence the title of the film. As a result, audiences follow two simultanous narratives. At one point these separate narratives are actually combined when Elias and the screen writer are within the same scene, alluding to the fabricated reality of the film itself, by breaking the membrane between the fictional world of the film, and reality in which the film is created. 



The male gaze is explored a lot within Trans-Europ-Express, and interestingly it is this that ultimately leads Elias to his death. The film features sadistic scenes, in which Elais becomes sexually involved with  Eva, tying her with rope and chains. Whilst this content does not immediately point in the direction of high cinema, it's within these scenes that the most alluring camera work is used, making it both difficult and fascinating to watch.

Trans-Europ-Express uses components of various genres, and highlights the manipulation of narratives through the medium of film. Essentially it reminds viewers of the fictitious nature of cinema and critiques the production of film itself. 


7.6/10


Sunday 6 July 2014

In Bloom (2013)


After watching In Bloom, a fellow cinema-goer a few rows back said one word which I believe sums up the film adequately, and that word was: 'bleak'. Despite it's bleakness, the potent verisimilitude of the Georgian film takes audiences out of the recognisable western reality, and into a culture inscribed with poverty and familarised violence. Although the events coincide with the war in Georgia, the main events cover the narrative of two girls: Natia and Eka, as they attempt to defy the nonsensical customs within society. 

In the beginning of the film Natia is presented with a gun, creating a constant tension in the narrative, as the audience wonder when and how it will be used. So when the gun is never fired, it seems that writer and director Nana Ekvtimishvili uses the prop to suggest that violence is commonplace in Georgian society, and so whilst producing cinematic tension, it is not such an spectacle in the realm of the film. 

Ultimately this is a feminist film; the girls try to deviate from the path of patriarchy and lead their own lives, only to result in many complications. It is often the case in cinema that women are given lead roles in which their primary concerns involve men, and it is certainly encouraging to witness two young girls who deviate from this.




In Bloom is filled with hope in a society which fundamentally contains none, resulting in many emotional ups and downs. Its drama is created by a desire to resist the rigidity of the society in which Natia and Eka live, and when they ultimately fail, it is somewhat disheartening, yet there is still an aspect of promise left, as even in the film's denouement it is clear that Natia and Eka have not given up hope. 

8.2/10