Wednesday

Love and Hate


After seeing Fitzcarraldo last year, I have been exploring the films of Werner Herzog and in particular, the films he made with actor Klaus Kinski. Herzog made five films with Kinski: Aguirre, Nosferatu, Wyzeck, Fitzcarraldo and Cobra Verde. What is fascinating about their relationship (if you've never heard of them) is that it was as temultous as any working relationship in film (think Burton and Taylor without the sex). Kinski was well known as being a raving madman and impossible to work with. Here is a clip from youtube:



Herzog talks about his love/hate relationship with Kinski in his terrific documentary 'My Best Fiend' where that particular clip was taken from. Herzog is a filmmaker in the purest sense. He doesn't have aspirations for fame or blockbusters (not that he'd mind) but is an obsessive and driven artist. This is the only explanation as to why he would have suffered five difficult films with someone like Kinski.

As Herzog explains, Kinski's rantings and ravings (which could last for hours if not days) were a part of what made him electric on the screen. He was a powder keg of raw emotion and energy and Herzog wanted to capture it and use this in his works. Or should I say, needed to capture it.

In the documentary he refutes the claim that in Aguirre, he made Kinski finish a scene while pointing a loaded gun at him. No, he says that Kinski was getting into a boat to leave the set for good and knowing that Kinski had broken contracts before, he told him that he would get his rifle and before Kinski got around the bend there would five bullets in him, save for the last one which would be for himself. Kinski stayed.

Herzog says that he used to fantasize about murdering Kinski and almost fire bombed his house one night (he says a loud dog stopped him from his plan). Whether or not Herzog was serious about these murderous threats, it highlights the kind of relationship these two men had. Herzog was just as much a megalomaniac and just as obsessive. Remember that in Fitzcarraldo he insisted that they actually pull a river boat over the mountain and then ran the boat through the rapids with a small crew on board!

In the end, Herzog was right. The films he made with Kinski, however flawed at times, are nothing short of brilliant and memorable. Roger Ebert puts it well in his review of Aguirre:

Of modern filmmakers, Werner Herzog is the most visionary and the most obsessed with great themes. Little wonder that he has directed many operas. He does not want to tell a plotted story or record amusing dialog; he wants to lift us up into realms of wonder. Only a handful of modern films share the audacity of his vision; I think of “2001: A Space Odyssey'' and “Apocalypse Now.'' Among active directors, the one who seems as messianic is Oliver Stone. There is a kind of saintly madness in the way they talk about their work; they cannot be bothered with conventional success, because they reach for transcendence.

As difficult as Kinski was, Herzog has a genuine affection for the man. In 'My Best Fiend' he also shares that side of Kinski that was kind, warm and generous.

We human beings have a wonderful ability for contradiction. It is possible to love someone and hate them at the same time.

On the importance of film editing

I was having a conversation with a friend about the importance of a good editor in film and he seemed to think, in his experience, picture editors were merely button pushers - technicians who ran the equipment. I must admit being slightly baffled by the conversation, particularly because I was talking to a fellow director!

For me, the writing team that makes up a film is the writer (of course!), the director and the editor. Each person contributes to the story in very concrete ways. In the vaguest sense, the writer creates the scenario and dialogue and explores the themes of the piece. The director shapes the visual part of the story telling and creates the tone and style as well as informing the performances. It's the editors job to take all that has been designed and shot and shape it into the finished piece. The editor becomes, as the famous editor Walter Murch puts it, the representative for the audience. The editor isn't concerned with the writer or directors initial intentions, they are set to the task of making what was shot and gathered work.

"the central occupation of the film editor, is to put himself/herself in place of the audience. What is the audience going to be thinking at any particular moment? Where are they going to be looking? What do you want them to think about? What do they need to think about? And, of course, what do you want them to feel? If you keep this in mind (and it's the preoccupation of every magician), then you are a kind of magician. Not in the supernatural sense, just an everyday, working magician."

In Michael Onjaatje's conversations with Walter Murch, Murch quotes Orson Welles:

“Orson Welles once said in an interview in Cahier du Cinéma: For my style, for my vision of the cinema, editing is not simply one aspect: it’s the aspect. The notion of directing a film is the invention of critics like you [Cahier du Cinéma]. It isn’t an art, or at best it’s an art only one minute a day. That minute is terribly crucial, but it occurs very rarely. The only time one is able to exercise control over the film is in the editing. The images themselves are not sufficient. They’re very important, but they’re only images. What’s essential is the duration of each image and that which follows each image: the whole eloquence of cinema is that it’s achieved in the editing room.”

Anyone who has ever made a film understands that the moment you arrive at a location you are at the mercy of time and circumstance. Everything on the face of the earth seems to come together and conspire against you. Filmmakers are great rationalizers and when everything starts to go wrong, you rationalize it into something positive. It's in the editing room that you start the film over again and throw out all initial intentions and replace them with the reality of what you shot. This isn't to say that the film is replaced, rather, it represents another opportunity to react to the story as it exists and to reshape it. Things you thought would work well fell flat while things you struggled with come off with smashing success.

According to the film journalist Peter Biskind, this is where the film company Miramax set itself apart from other studios. In his his terrific book "Down and Dirty Pictures", Biskind says that while the other studios would put films through development hell, working and reworking the scripts, Miramax was very quick to green light a project and put it into production. Hell came in post production as they would work and rework the edit until they got the film they wanted. Although this process was incredibly tough for the filmmakers, Miramax showed a unique understanding of the importance of editing, an insight that provided them with their unparalleled success.

Filmmaking is a collaborative art and the process is one where the film gets written many times before you end up with a finished print. There is give and take between the writer, the director and editor and while the director gets the final say, the editor is integral to the process and a good editor is worth their weight in gold. They are that fresh set of eyes that helps to write the rhythm and tone (and sometimes structure) of the picture.

For a terrific example of how much editing impacts a film, rent the Criterion Collection's version of Terry Gilliam's "Brazil". "Brazil" was a troubled production and the studio, under Sid Sheinberg, recut the film into a "Love Conquers All" version (eventually agreeing to releasing Gilliam's version). The Criterion Collection inludes both versions of the movie so you can see how Sheinberg's cut differs immensely from Gilliam's despite using all of the same footage! It's a little editing class in a box.

Classic Television

In addition to watching '24' and 'Lost', I've been watching a lot of the last seasons of 'Columbo'. I've been a Columbo fans for years and have finally completed my DVD collection of the 1970's films. It's fun to watch the director credits as such notables as Steve Spielberg and Jonathan Demme cut their teeth on the series.

The 1970's mysteries have some nostalgia for me as I used to come home from the cottage and watch McCloud, McMillan and Wife and Columbo with my mom. Nostalgia aside, it's always Columbo that I come back to and I've often wondered why.

On watching the series again, Peter Falk has a major impact on the character of Columbo. Consider the pilot episode where you see a well dressed, somewhat normal Columbo that hardly gives you the hint of the evolution of the character and series. It is in the subsequent episodes and the focus on the quirk and brilliantly manipulative character, you see the dynamics of the series progress.

What truly sets Columbo apart from any television show in memory is the strange and wonderful structure of the stories. First of all, the series of mysteries of Columbo, Mcmillan and Wife and McCloud were all small features, clocking in at two hours including commercials. Columbo set itself apart as it always introduces the antagonist (murderer) first and walked the audience through the crime. Columbo doesn't even show up until at least fifteen to twenty minutes into the program. This means that the audience is starting out with much more information than the hero detective and the focus of the story is on how Columbo will figure out the method of the crime.

On top of the unusual story structure, Columbo also features such terrific guest appearances as Ray Milland, Patrick McGoohan, John Cassevetes, Donald Pleasance, Leslie Neilsen, William Shatner, Dean Stockwell, Robert Vaughn, George Hamilton, Johnny Cash, Leonard Nimoy, Martin Landau, Dick Van Dyke, Janet Leigh and Ricardo Montalban. Very few television shows today gather such significant talent.

One of the pleasant surprises that grew out of the move from VHS to DVD is the release of old television programs. For me, Columbo is one of the treasures of the mystery genre.

As a footnote, I've also revisited the 1980's classic, 'Magnum P.I.'. What is of particular interest in the first season is seeing the series evolve and grow. The memorable Mike Post score and the opening credits don't fully appear until at least seven episodes into the series and the characters are vague and ill defined. Over the first half of the series you can see the wheels turning and the show defining itself. The DVD provides us with the original series before syndicated edits and is a very satisfying look at the evolution of a new series.

Tuesday

Mini Series

Like most of the population, I haven't kept up with my New Years Resolutions. Although I haven't seen too many films this year, Rogers Cable has actually given me a reason to look forward to February and trust me, not a lot of Canadians look forward to February. They've announced the addition of AMC and TMC (Amercian Movie Classics and Turner Movie Classics) and I am excited to see a lot of classic films I've missed and revisit the ones I've already enjoyed.

I've been watching the new seasons of '24' and 'Lost' and was musing at how the mini series has become a series. Thanks to DVD distribution, broadcasters don't have to rely soley on syndication ad revenue, freeing them up to play with traditional television formats. While broadcasters have repeated the series, it is something that needs a commitment from the viewer as the storylines are linear and it is tough to just pick up half way through. I have watched most of 24 on dvd and for the first time (they're on season 6) am watching it broadcasted. As is a common theme on my blog, I do find it amusing that everyone is trying to predict what this means for the 'future' of television as if it were an 'either or' world. I suspect that it will run it's course and eventually people will become bored when the new shows are rip offs of others and we'll see another shift. It seems to me that the pattern often resembles the 'everything old is new again' formula. The mini series has reinvented itself as the maxi series and we are full circle once again.

For now I'll watch '24' and ponder how this sadistic show can be so damn entertaining.

The Clunky Classic

I put on 'It's a Wonderful Life' the other night, a film that I enjoy immensely. It is a clever take on the classic Scrooge story and, unlike many other holiday classics, reaches into the darker parts of life. The theme of broken dreams is an easy concept for most people to gravitate to as life rarely makes a path for us to achieve what we want and often when it does it doesn't necessarily make us any happier. 'It's a Wonderful Life' explores these ideas (and more) with a degree of depth not seen in average Christmas fare.

All this said, it has to be one of the clunkiest classics ever made. The film suffers from an odd story structure and some of the worst editing I've ever seen in a studio picture. In terms of the edits, I'm not sure that I would blame the picture editor. The editor is given the footage that the director and cameraman have captured and it is really the directors job to make sure that the film will cut. It would be a fair assessment to say that it was Capra's technical direction that is responsible for the poor edits. Take these two images for example:



The cut is odd as the change in framing is too subtle making it feel like a small jump cut. The secondary character is starting to walk behind Jimmy Stewart before the cut and is unmoving beside him at the head of the next shot. Normally cutting on action (or a match cut) is one of the nicest and smoothest methods to hide the cut. Here, it highlights the jump cut and is a bit jarring for the audience. Although the audience wouldn't notice the technical aspects of the flaw, they do have a subconscious knowledge of spatial relationships.
Here is another example:



Again, the change in framing is too subtle and in this particular cut Uncle Billy's expression changes from laughingly playful to straight. The continuity of emotion is broken and it highlights the poor visual cut. The film is littered with these kinds of poor edits.

The story structure is quite unusual as well. It starts with a conversation of spirits who inform us that they need to send an angel to help poor George Bailey. They decide to give the angel (and us) some back story as to who George Bailey is and the film starts in flashback. What is odd about this structure is that we end up spending eighty minutes on the back story! By the time we get to the part where George is in trouble, we've practically forgot that there were angels in the story at all. Thus, the second act starts about an hour and a half into the movie. I can't help but wonder how much this story structure affected the poor reviews the film recieved when it first came out. The films revival came from public broadcasters showing the film every year as it had fallen out of copyright and was free for public use. The familiarity that we built with it's odd structure by showing it yearly may have had a good counter effect (just a thought)...

Despite these seemingly major flaws, 'It's a Wonderful Life' is a classic and deserving of its status. Why? The film has such a wonderful energy and drive that it transcends its technical problems. I used to tell my students that story was the most important thing and should always trump whatever lighting or continuity problems you're having. If the poor cut will tell the story better than using a bad take then go with the break in continuity. The audience doesn't go to the movies to see good technical film making, they go to see characters who are having the biggest crisis of their lives. 'It's a Wonderful Life' can be a bit sentimental and melodramatic at times but it also features a character who is selfish and unhappy. He can't see the good that he adds to other peoples lives as he's too self absorbed and bitter that he hasn't been able to chase those unattainable dreams. This is where Capra has done his finest work, creating a film that is exuberant and unashamed of its earnestness.

Monday

The Conformist


As an update to a previous post - 'The Conformist' is finally being released to dvd December 5th (Christmas is early). I previously wrote that it was a glaring omission from the catalogue of great movies. As one of Bernardo Bertolucci's finest films and one of the richest films ever made, 'The Conformist' is one of the most visually stunning films ever photographed as well as a profound character study.

The film takes place in fascist Italy as the protagonist (Marcello) is sent to Paris to assassinate his former professor and enemy of the state. I won't reveal any details of how it unfolds but I will say that what evolves is a fascinating mixture of sex, politics and violence. For me, 'The Conformist' defines the great art house film - intelligent, intriguing, challenging, complex and beautiful. I can't wait to get my copy.

Sunday

Borat!

My stomach is still a bit sore from seeing 'Borat' last night. If you don't know 'Borat', he is one of the personas from 'Da Ali G Show'. Sacha Baron Cohen, the creator of the character of Borat, teamed up with a crack team of comedy writers and director Larry Charles (Seinfeld writer) to film one of the funniest films I've ever seen. Going into the film I'd heard those words uttered - "funniest film ever" - and thought that maybe it was just studio spin. It was hardly an exaggeration. I don't remember ever laughing so hard and for so long. That's the thing about comedies in general. They make you laugh for an act or two and then peter out trying to finish telling the story. It's a symptom of the three act structure. Most comedies use up their best material setting up the story then find that about an hour (or so) in that they have to resolve the 'plot'. This means that the gags and funny business are replaced by an earnest effort to satisfy the story. Some comedies, like 'Bullets Over Broadway', skirt this problem by setting up a funny plot. This way it isn't actually dependent on gags to be funny - the story is funny in and of itself. 'Borat' solves the problem by creating the thinnest plot and refuses to make the comedy dependant on it. The thin plot creates a reason for Borat to travel the American countryside but never demands that he go from A to B in any formal manner.

The result? Brilliant! 'Borat' is one of those rare comedies that fuses toilet humour with sophisticated satire. The gags are intellectual one minute then bawdy the next. Some have found the film extremely offensive and it's easy to see why. 'Borat' amplifies racial and sexual stereotypes but places them in the realm of farce. Borat seeks to find the parts of our society that validate these attitudes thus shining a light on ourselves. We are not cleansed of hatred and bigotry and 'Borat' for all it's hilarity gives us a mirror to hold our society up against. It's smart. It's dirty. It's bawdy and it's hilarious.

As a footnote, 'Borat' was sold out and the audience laughed so hard that subsequent jokes were missed. Like 'Little Miss Sunshine', 'Borat' is another example of how good films bring people out to the movie theatres in droves. And unlike the hundred million dollar flops, 'Borat' makes its fortune and success on talent.