Journal Prompt: Sound

Violet from Indoor Fountains

At first glance it appears that 'Violet's strongest element is visual - its beachside setting, muted colour palette and attention to details such as jewellery and coloured lips. But the piece would be nothing without its use of sound. The soundtrack allows us a glimpse into the mind of this mysterious protagonist, who evokes echoes of both a classic film noir femme fatale and a suspicious housewife to a double-crossing husband in a steamy erotic thriller. The most significant aspect of the audio is the recurring sound of the ringing handset telephone. Who is on the other end? All we hear is the distorted male-sounding voice of someone repeatedly saying "hello?". Violet does not answer but merely moves distrustingly from room to room, staring pensively into the distance, until finally looking out the window of an upstairs room. Either she sees nothing or does not like what she sees and leaves. The end of the piece is then underscored by the sound of disconnect tone and we are left hanging...
Without sound it is very hard to gather what the tone of the film is. And as there is not a whole lot of action to the sequence, I found my mind wandering and my focus easily pulled to other things. The visuals are still beautifully dreamy, and with a different soundtrack this could easily flip genres. But the intrigue is lost without sound. There is no suspense, no mystery, no questions. The phone becomes merely a prop in the first scene which is swiftly forgotten about. We do not know who Violet is, but we also do not care nearly as much as we would with sound. This sequence really demonstrates the importance of sound, and the significance of its relationship with visuals within film and video art.

Journal Prompt: video art exhibition

SCORSESE AT ACMI

The box office staff assured me that an hour and a half would be ample time to absorb all there is to absorb from their Scorsese exhibit. The staff obviously did not consider the fact that an hour and a half was barely enough time to scour every storyboard, study every marked up script and analyse every carefully chosen film excerpt displayed throughout the exhibit. 

The exhibition begins in a mock set up of Scorsese's grandparents' living room, as the story of their journey from Italy to the US - narrated by Scorsese, himself - is told on the television screen in the fake room. It becomes clear that it's no coincidence that family, whether blood relation or symbolic, is such a significant theme in Scorsese's films.

It was quite a remarkable experience to be engulfed in the filmmaker's world for this period of time. Behind the scenes pictures of some of Hollywood's biggest stars on the set of the Scorsese films that launched their careers cluttered the walls, while original costumes used to get Cate Blanchett into character as Katherine Hepburn and Gwen Stefani into character as Jean Harlow dominated the floor.

The theme of red was particularly noticeable. Scorsese's films are known as some of Hollywood's most violent, and this idea is echoed all throughout the exhibition. Personally, I would have appreciated a sub-category on said violence within the exhibition, with Scorsese discussing his motives behind creating such violent pieces of work, and why this appeals to him. Obviously, such subject matter is par for the course when it comes to the gangster genre but Scorsese's specific style of covering this violence is similar to Tarantino's in that it is often included in sequences that are on the light-hearted side, not necessarily allowing audience's to feel the full weight of what they have just witnessed.

But the aspect that separates Scorsese's work from others and propels his into the realm of art rather than merely film is his collaboration with editor Thelma Schoonmaker. It is commonly acknowledged that a screen work does not really exist until it enters the editing suite - this is where the real magic is done, allowing the narrative to come alive. The exhibition uses the example of a crucial sequence in Goodfellas (1990) in which protagonist Henry Hill is paranoid about being caught moving cocaine around the city. Scorsese and Schoonmaker do not simply tell you how Henry is feeling with this sequence. Your heart is racing at the same speed, sweat beads begin to form on the back of your hands and you are sitting on the edge of your seat, praying that you do not get caught. Schoonmaker's quick cuts, keen sense of narrative timing and use of exaggerated sound design make all of this possible. 

The purpose of art, after all, is to illicit an emotional response from the consumer. After an hour and a half in the world of Scorsese, I was still hungry for more.

The Bachelor: aka an alternate reality in which everyone travels with their own personal lighting director

As a film student, lighting is one of the first elements of a screen work that I notice. When it's done well, essentially, it should not be visible. But in the age of reality television, the line between fantasy and reality has become blurred when it comes to lighting.
I have just finished watching the most recent episode of the Bachelor. My thoughts on the harmful effect that reality dating shows have on society (and how I secretly love them) I will save for another day, but I what I did notice -- more than usual -- were the very clever lighting tricks and set ups being employed by the crew behind the Bachelor.
In one particular scene, Bachelor Richie and his most mysterious bachelorette Olena are sitting and eating a picnic together in a park near her family's home. They are surrounded by beautiful dappled light, and are shaded from the bright summer sun by the trees they are sitting underneath. The lighting crew have expertly made this scene look natural and seamless. But it takes a trained eye to realise just how artificially crafted this particular scenario is. If the lighting were as 'natural' as they are making it seem, Richie and Olena's faces would be barely visible under the shade of the trees. There is undoubtedly some poor production assistant charged with the task of holding a reflector up out of view to make sure that the dappled sunlight falls onto their faces as if it were magically coming from underneath them as well as above. It is also very possible that a few warm fill lights have been secretly placed around their picnic spot to enhance the 'sunlight' effect.
The lighting on Olena in her close up is notably artificial, adhering to the standards of appearance that we, as a society, have placed on women, and anybody filming these women for their screen works. If these people were presented as they naturally appeared on the shoot day, it would be subject to public ridicule. Which brings us back to the harmful effect this can (and, I daresay, does) have on society. Rationally, we know that what we see on TV is not real. But the lines are ever blurred in the exponentially growing sector of reality TV. It is presented to us as at least kind of real, however ridiculous. And with reality TV becoming more popular, more lucrative and more ubiquitous, where will this leave us in 5 years time?
I shudder to think.