Film: Raising Arizona
Budget: $6 million Release Date: March 1987 Cast:
Summary/Plot: H.I. (Nicolas Cage) and Edwina (Holly Hunter) met and fell in love when she took his mug shots, every time he was arrested for a convenience store robbery. That kind of life is all behind H.I. now, since he married Edwina and they want to raise a family. But when they find they can't have kids, Edwina convinces H.I. to kidnap one of a set of quintuplets -- his real mother will never miss him, she figures, and five babies are just too much for one person to handle. Critique/ Analysis: Without question, one of the most entertaining illustrations of montage, and editing, that can be used as an introduction in film studies is the sequence in the Coen Brothers' Raising Arizona, when H.I. (Nicholas Cage) robs a convenience store for some Huggies diapers and cash, along with the ensuing chase sequence from the police, through people's homes and backyards, followed by a pack of dogs through the neighborhood and a supermarket, only to be finally reunited with his wife Ed (Holly Hunter) and newly kidnapped baby Nathan Jr. For practical purposes, we'll modestly, and without any fear of hyperbole, call it the best sequence in film history. I've used this sequence previously in an ESL course, studying modal auxiliary verbs. I would periodically stop the film and ask the students, "What could he do at this point in the film?" or "What should the convenience store clerk do?" or "What would you do if your boyfriend/husband just robbed a store?" It's important to note that to facilitate discussion during the study of a short film sequence, the students need to see "bite-size" segments of the film (anywhere from 45 seconds to 3 minutes at a time) to engage their attention; then the teacher needs to stop the film at times, slowing down the input of information, then reflecting on what they've seen; what they anticipate from the film; what are characters' motivations; how the director, cinematographer, and editor play with mise en scene, variety of camera shots/angles/lens, movement, and montage. After students recognize such elements of the film's narrative, composition, theme, or whatever the point of the exercise is, then resume the film until the next point of discussion. Anyway, the variety of film techniques that are used in this sequence are seemingly endless, as the Coen Brothers play with so many details in the narrative. For instance, close ups are used to draw attention to H.I. stealing panty hose and Huggies, then it's used to zero in on the convenience store clerk pushing the alarm button. The close up is used to zero in on the dufus look on H.I.'s face when he sees the police pulling up, and the convenience store clerk's teenage smirk as he pulls up the gun to shoot him. Close up of his feet running up the street. After he jumps into someone's backyard, the family's dog jumps after him, and he's saved by the chain. We see a close-up of the peg being pulled out of the ground, as the dog breaks free. And when the supermarket manager shoots the rifle at him, we see a close up of the smoke billowing out of the barrel. We see tracking shots of dogs running, H.I. running through the supermarket. At the end of the sequence, we see the camera raise up, as the couple drive away, escaping trouble. Sound effects throughout the scene include gun shots, screeching tires, police sirens, screams, dogs barking, the film's lighthearted theme yodelling soundtrack (thanks to inspiration from Pete Seeger), muzak in the supermarket, and glasses being shot. Also, there's high key lighting in the supermarket and convenience store, and low key lighting along the road and in the getaway car. All of these go together to reveal a cast of foolish characters, which only adds to our sympathy for H.I. and Ed, even though they've stolen a baby and continue in a life of petty crime. Essentially, as most of the other characters are flawed in this film, the audience cannot help but sympathize with the main characters. Altogether, I'm not sure how deeply I intend to focus teaching film/editing techniques to the students in a language arts classroom. I'm sure that the students and I could gain a lot from this process, but I wonder how useful it is for students to develop a strong vocabulary in film studies.
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Film: Burn After Reading
Budget: $37 million Release Date: September 12th 2008 Cast:
CIA analyst Osbourne Cox quits his job due to a drinking problem and decides to write a tell all book about his life as a spy. His wife Katie, who is cheating on him with a treasury department agent named Harry, uses this as an excuse to leave him and she copies all of his financial and memoir computer files to help with the divorce. The CD with the files gets left at a local gym by one of her lawyers, and it is found by a gym employee called Chad. He and his co-worker Linda look at the files and believe them to be valuable spy documents and decide to blackmail Osbourne. But when their first attempt goes badly, they try to sell them to the Russians instead. In order to get more information to sell, Chad breaks into Osbourne's house where Katie is now living with Harry after having kicked Osbourne out to go live on his boat. Harry shoots and kills Chad during the break in and hides the body. As it turns out, Harry is also having an affair with the other blackmailer, Linda. She confesses what has been going on and tells him that her co-conspirator is missing, when Harry realizes this is the man he shot he panics and flees, believing that spies are after him now. Linda now has no one to turn to but her boss at the gym, who has a crush on her and agrees to go to Osbourne's house as well to investigate. As if things are not complicated enough, a stressed out and vengeful Osbourne picks this moment to return home and reclaim his possessions from his estranged wife, and finds a lot more than he bargained for. Film: No Country for Old Men
Budget: $25 million Release Date: November 9th 2007 (USA) Cast:
Summary/Plot: West Texas, 1980. Out hunting deer in the desert down by the Mexican border, Vietnam veteran Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) happens on a heap of carnage: torn-apart trucks, corpses of men and dogs, the bloody bodies of others who’d be better off dead, and a case packed with cash: about $2 million. With no witnesses, and confident he can handle himself, Moss opts to keep what’s clearly payment in a drugs-handover gone wrong, and treat himself and wife Carla Jean (Kelly Macdonald) to a life considerably better than their trailer-park existence. Trouble is, psychopathic hitman Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) also wants the loot, and begins carefully hunting the hunter, in turn pursued by veteran sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones), who can’t help feeling the world’s turning more crazily violent. The Coens’ first outright adaptation is of a Cormac McCarthy novel so attuned to them that the film feels – at least until the final few scenes – as if it’s based on one of their own original screenplays: ‘Blood Simple’ meets ‘Fargo’, almost. For all its fidelity to its source, however, it’d be wrong to think it merely an illustration. The Coens meticulously select the most filmic moments of McCarthy’s terse, gripping book; they trim the sheriff’s nostalgic reveries and philosophising, embellish and enhance the action, and succeed overall in transforming the novel’s economic descriptions into a full-blown world populated by vivid, plausible characters. Most impressive, they find a cinematic equivalent to McCarthy’s language: his narrative ellipses, play with point of view, and structural concerns such as the exploration of the similarities and differences between Moss, Chigurh and Bell. Certain virtuoso sequences feel near-abstract in their focus on objects, sounds, light, colour or camera angle rather than on human presence. As in ‘Barton Fink’ or ‘Fargo’, the Coens prove that properly innovative artistry and engrossing entertainment can co-exist to utterly compelling effect.Notwithstanding much marvellous deadpan humour, this is one of their darkest efforts: Chigurh, especially, is a nightmarish creation, polite manners and pageboy bob perversely accentuating the volatility in his strangely logical head. Roger Deakins’ superb camerawork, top-grade performances all round, and understated, assured direction ensure the film exerts a grip from start to end. A masterly tale of the good, the deranged and the doomed that inflects the raw violence of the west with a wry acknowledgement of the demise of codes of honour, this is frighteningly intelligent and imaginative. Critique/Analysis: The movie opens with Tommy Lee Jones' character, Sheriff Ed Tom Bell, talking about sheriffs-past in different areas of Texas. Many of them didn't carry guns because in those days and places, packing heat wasn't necessary. The camera shows us the gorgeous vistas of West Texas (the movie was mostly filmed in New Mexico). The movie immediately takes on a Western feel. One review I read described No Country as a new school Western, a fitting categorization. It has all the elements of a Western- "the ultimate badass" outlaw in Anton Chigurh; the bareness of the wild west; the gun fight in the empty city streets. The Coen brothers masterfully bring that sense of lawlessness to a time when supposedly there is law and order. The standard film elements- shot composition, cinematography and editing are flawless. Every image is crisp and beautiful, every transition seamless. For example, early in the film, while Moss (Josh Brolin) is out hunting, he spots a hobbling dog. Cut to the far away shot of four or five pickup trucks with open doors and no people. Cut to Moss at the scene amongst the dead bodies (and a dead dog). Then begin my favorite sequence. Moss starts heading along the tire tracks which you can faintly see amongst the tall grass, cut to him spotting a tree where he believes the man with the money would've stopped, cut to him at the tree, standing over the dead man. From there he is instantly at his car, instantly home, and instantly inside talking to his wife. Not a second is wasted. It's glorious. This is so crucial throughout the movie. The camera never at any point shows us anything we don't need to see. In the beginning every detail of Chigurh's killing is shown to us, but by the end we know what has happened, and the insignifcant shots of the killings themselves are left out. First Carson Wells (a name directly from the wild west, and also played by Woody Harrelson of all people) is shot on screen, but we aren't even sure he's been shot until the blood starts creeping across the floor towards Anton's feet- the immediate cut to him nonchalantly leaning back and putting his feet up to avoid getting any on his shoes is priceless. In one of the final scenes, Chigurh meets Moss's wife, asks her to call the coin toss, and is then standing outside checking the bottoms of his shoes, indicating that the deed has been done. So why does this movie have the title it does? Well I think that if you imagine Sheriff Bell as the focal point it makes a lot more sense. The opening scene he tells us that it used to be a real easy life. His demeanor throughout the film emphasizes his old-school attitude. He shoots the breeze with everyone, even when he's trying to get information. When he and his young deputy enter Moss's trailer, the deputy with his gun drawn asks Sheriff Bell why he doesn't have his gun drawn. He says he doesn't need it because he's not going in first. Eventually, Bell does draw his gun, just before he enters the motel room where Moss has been murdered, because he fears Chigurh is lurking inside. I think it is at this moment that Bell realizes that the world of 1980 is too much for him to bear. (Whether Chigurh was inside or not, is debatable. It is possible that the cut of Chigurh hiding behind the door is simply a visualization of Sheriff Bell's thoughts, because when the door opens, it opens all the way to wall and Chigurh is nowhere to be found, but this entire scene is debatable). The final 20 minutes of No Country appears to revolve around fate. A variation of the line, "a man cannot escape what's coming to him," is spoken several times by numerous characters. It leads up to the final scene in Sheriff Bell's house. He's talking about his dreams. He dreamed of his father, who died at 20 years younger than Bell's current age. I think the dream he describes is a metaphor for death, but more so, the death of the old way of life. The life that he knew. Film: Blood Simple
Budget: $1.5 million Release Date: January 18th 1985 (USA) Cast:
Summary/Plot: In the first film of brothers Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, M. Emmett Walsh plays Visser, an unscrupulous private eye hired by Texas bar owner Marty (Dan Hedaya) to murder Marty's faithless wife Abby (Frances McDormand) and her paramour, Ray (John Getz), one of Marty's employees. But Visser is no more up-front with Marty than with anyone else; he makes some slight modifications of the original plan so that it better serves his own best interests. After a surprise double-cross and the murder of one of the important players, matters spiral out of control, and the plot gyrates through a complicated string of darkly humorous events. False assumptions, guilt, and fear all lead to a frantic attempt to conceal evidence and the heart-pounding, irony-filled denouement. Blood Simple was re-released in the summer of 2000 with a digitally-remastered soundtrack and -- at the Coens' behest -- a few minutes of dialogue trimmed. Critique / Analysis: The directorial certainty and confidence on display in Joel and Ethan Coen’s 1984 film Blood Simple, their debut picture, is exceptional. Their command of filmic technique, their control of performances, their intense use of tone and atmosphere to enhance the film, and their knowing pastiche of film noir attributes, results in a first feature rivaled by few others. With a comparatively paltry $1.5 million dollar budget, the duo concocted a devious, amusing, formally inventive, and above all entertaining movie that resoundingly pointed the ways towards their films to come. Bold strokes are fragrantly displayed by the Coens immediately. In selections of camera placement and maneuvers, sound amplifications, and dialogue, the brothers show no signs of a beginner’s hesitation. Their poise is clear and the film benefits a great deal from their willingness to unhesitatingly have fun with the medium and to use inventive and self-conscious directorial choices. The list is many, but some exceptional moments of technical virtuosity include: lengthy tracking shots, even some that are not always relevant to the films’ plot (Meurice’s walk to the jukebox and back); jarring close-ups of shoes, lighters, dead fish, etc.; a mastery of lighting resulting in an accomplished balance of light and shadow – this would have been a gorgeous black and white film; general camera movements amusingly obvious (the camera dollying along the bar-top, then rising up and over a passed-out drunk, as Celluloid Mavericks author Greg Merritt points to, is fantastic); the Sam Raimi-inspired camera advance in front of Ray’s house; and aural strategies that accentuate the most effective sounds, such as a dog beating his tail against the wall, a violent bug-zapper, and a finger-nails-on-the-chalkboard-type grating of a shovel on asphalt. The final scene of the picture is a tour-de-force of technical feats with a brilliant combination of graphic violence, taught suspense though sound and image, and an illuminating feature of shafts of light coming though the bullet-ridden wall. In many ways, this lighting aspect reminded me of the window blind effect in Bernardo Bertolucci’s Il conformista (1970). The Coen’s also do a great job in conveying a true (perhaps somewhat mocking) sense of place and ambiance as well. We are clearly aware of the film’s Texas location – those hats, boots, and outfits signify so; and the film’s hot, muggy climate is fully achieved in shots of oscillating fans constantly in motion (moving notably slow, however) and by gleaming beads of sweat consistently of everyone’s face. As writers, the brothers had already finely tuned their ear to expert word and sentence choices. As with the characters’ gestures, their dialogue is somewhat exaggerated and stylized, but never so much so that it becomes unbelievable. They also successfully employ a repetition of lines that are at once humorous, but also go to show the parallels between the four seedy main characters; examples include references to Ray (John Getz) being/not being a “marriage counselor;” the “less you know the better” line between Marty (Dan Hedaya) and Loren (M. Emmet Walsh), clearly instigating what ensues following the exchange; and Abby (Frances McDormand) saying, “I haven’t done anything funny,” exactly what Marty (in a different context) told Ray she would say. Along the lines of humor in the film (no Coen brothers film yet has been totally without comedy), Blood Simple also possesses some great moments of comedic samples. Probably my personal favorite is when Ray discovers the (seemingly) dead Marty in the office. He begins to clean up the blood and move Ray. It’s a gruesome scene, with buckets of blood being dripped throughout. But, what raises the scene beyond a mere exercise in bloodletting is the fact that Meurice, unaware of what is going on behind the closed door, begins to play the Four Top’s “It’s the Same Old Song” on the jukebox in the bar. Having this up-beat Motown music playing over this grisly clean-up creates an ironic music/action union only by that point bettered by Martin Scorsese in Mean Streets and paving the way for Quentin Tarantino’s use of a similar juxtapositions in the 1990s. The title of the film is, according to the Coen brothers, referring to the state of mind of someone after they have committed a murder, and this meditative quality is an interesting aspect of Blood Simple. For a thriller of this kind, the picture has an unusual amount of scenes and shots simply showing the characters thinking or looking. A good deal of screen time is devoted to the individuals trying to figure out what to do next, what just happened, or, in general, what is going on. These sedentary moments, aside from presenting a surprisingly thoughtful band of otherwise dimwitted misfits, also work to create the tension in which the viewer is similarly wondering about what may happen. That they are so unclear leaves room for spectator doubt as well. Indeed, the Coens do an extraordinary job of establishing quite early that anything is very well possible in this world. Anyone could possibly get killed. As such, the tension arises out of these possibilities; motives are unclear (why would Ray touch the gun, move the body, clear up the body, etc.?) and thus we are frequently able to question why some of the characters are doing and saying what they are. As Merritt writes, “Untrusting and bewildered, the characters charge through a serpentine story, capable of killing or being killed.” If push comes to shove, as it in fact does, all four of these main individuals show that their capabilities are beyond initial (theirs and ours) expectations. The suspense of the picture is also supremely evident in the brothers’ compositional choices, for instance when Abby is framed with the open glass window behind her, looking out into the darkness. Our eyes are constantly searching in the shadows, just waiting for something to appear, and when it does, as she lays down, the effect is solid. In many ways, the film is about a lot of ideas, probably more than most thrillers of the time and now. The picture calls into questions of truth and its representation, conveyed pictorially in the doctored photograph showing Ray and Abby dead, when in fact that aren’t (indeed, it seems that the only things concretely dead in the film are Marty’s fish and the end of Ray’s block). There is also a continual identity confusion; characters aren’t really sure who is doing what, or even who they are really dealing with (this is emphasized at the end when Abby thinks she has killed Marty, who she didn’t even know was dead, when she had actually murdered Loren). And then there is the reoccurring motif of a lack of communication, of unspoken feelings and beliefs that would have most likely alleviated a lot of the crisis presented. Marty and Ray are both noted by Abby and being quiet, and if Ray and Abby had just opened up to each other more, several times in the picture, a lot of disaster could have been averted. The characters crafted by the Coen duo are rich and dynamic and mostly appalling. Loren Visser, the sleazy, unscrupulous private investigator is the epitome of voraciousness and connivance. He’s also quite funny. Ray overreacts at nearly every turn and is himself a despicable characters (no sooner does he find out that for sure Abby is cheating on him then does he begin to harass and hit on a patron of his bar). But, in some ways, our sympathies are with him. Abby is a bumbling, apparently untrustworthy woman at times oblivious to reality. For this, though, we do occasionally feel sorry for her. And Ray, clearly in over his head, easily manipulated and also slow to comprehend the realities of the situations presented, is, I guess, our protagonist, our hero of sorts. The fact that these four primary characters hold no major redeeming characteristics interestingly enough doesn’t deter our attention or relation. This too is a testament to a finely formulated script and skilled direction. As an independent feature, Blood Simple is a textbook example. Made with funds raised from private investors, created under the tutelage of the aforementioned Sam Raimi (fresh of the success of his first Evil Dead film), and promoted through its script and, uniquely, by a pre-production trailer – with Evil Dead’s Bruce Campbel – the picture made the festival rounds, appearing in New York, Toronto, and France in 1984. It would go on to win the Grand Jury Prize at 1985’s Sundance Film Festival and Joel Coen was co-winner of the Best Director award at the first-ever Independent Spirit Awards show – he shared the award with Martin Scorsese for After Hours (not bad company for a debut filmmaker). Notable in this independent film methodology though, is the exceptional skill and frame of reference for the picture. The brothers have clearly thought about the picture a great deal, with thorough storyboards, and they are cognizant of classic noir and thriller elements and are therefore able to manipulate and utilize them to great effect. Film: Fargo
Release date: March 8th 1996 Budget: $7 million Cast:
Summary: A twist on the typical thrillers we are used to seeing. This film is about a seemingly "normal" man that begins to dig a hole that becomes so deep he just can't get out of it. The film begins with this man; Jerry Lundegaard being in dept to some people and by trying to fix this problem in taking advantage of his father in law he just creates this chaotic mess for himself. He plots to have two men Carl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud kidnap his wife without anyone else having knowledge of this to get money from his step father. Needless to say, it all goes to hell and blood is shed. Plot: Its a cold brutal winter in 1987 in a small town in Minneapolis where Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy) a car dealer is desperate for money. With help from a good friend Shep Proudfoot (Steve Reevis) he is introduced to two convicts (Steve Buscemi and Peter Stormare) that he hopes will help him in fixing his dept. He tells them that he will do an exchange with them and so long as they help him he will give them a car, specifically a Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera and half of the money that he would be getting by his wife being kidnapped. What happens though when this plan comes to play is that Gaear in Sheps defense when they are stopped by a local cop shoots the cop and witnesses is that a local police chief Marge(Frances McDormand), who is pregnant begins to investigate these homicides. Marge is married to a kind man (Norm) who is eager to get his artwork to make money for a postal stamp. Though Jerrys plans were to go and do the trade himself to get the money and scam his stepfather, his stepfather decides to go himself and Carl out of anger and mistrust shoots him to death and takes the money. With the $1,000,000.00 in the briefcase he stops off the side of the road and leaves a certain amount for himself to trick Gaear and keep more money for himself. However Gaear sees through him when Carl arrives with the money and once Marge arrives to Moose lake she finds the stolen car and quickly runs into Gaear feeding the last parts of Carls body to a wood chipper. Marge then shoots Gaear and arrests him and following that Jerry is found at a motel by the cops. That same night Marge goes to bed with Norm who informs her that his stamp didn't make the 29c he was hoping for and Marge simply tells him that they have a great life and she is very proud of him and can't wait for their child to arrive. Critique/Analysis: This film consists of a combination of tension and comedy with moments of pure silence. It is a very still film with tension and full of hurt and worry because of the struggle after struggle. The tension also came from the lighting and the moods could become quickly shifter being that the nights were very dark and the daytime wasn't just light but completely white so that you couldn't really see the division between snow and sky. The way the characters spoke definitely brought a ton of comedy to this thriller. Reminded me a lot of The Shining and had Hitchcock written all over it. One scene that seems to have an indirect message is when Marge meets with an old friend, shines light on the relationship she has with Norm and the immense love they have for each other. Not only did Norm and Marge bring a sense of calm to this film but so did the dissolving from scene to scene. |
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