Natural Born Killers

Oliver Stone intentions in directing the visual masterpiece of Natural Born Killers was to make a unique way of telling this violent story through cinematography. Throughout the entire film the hectic style of cinematography produces a feeling as if the viewer is watching the media cover this murderous case.
In Natural Born Killers, we the viewer are watching and interpreting this film from many different standpoints. The cinematography is very unusual; it is extremely different from the conventional style of shooting films. As soon as this film starts, we get introduced to this insane couple in the opening scene and the viewer gets a little taste of several types of cinematography choices. These choices are made throughout the entire film. The opening sequence begins with all these fast paced camera movements and black and white close ups as it switches from character to character. It is as if we a watching them from an additional point of view. The couple begins to kill every person in that diner from and each person killed the cinematography gets more quick. Other types of camera techniques used to switch up the viewers point of view are when we get to follow directly behind a weapon as it kills someone, like a bullet to the head. The scene leads us quickly into some kind of alternate environment, like a psychedelic dream world that I noticed happen in many other transitional cuts. Throughout Natural Born Killers, the continuous fast pace cinematography is a little overwhelming, yet visually pleasing.

Cinematography in Brutality in Stone

Alexander Kluge's film Brutality in Stone addresses the amnesia that seemed to exist in the new Germany following World War II. The film uses images of both the Nuremberg Rally Grounds, and a model of how the fuhrer envisioned his new Nazi capital of “Germania” to give the viewer a brief history of the Nazi party. Kluge uses these images of lifeless buildings to give the viewer the impression that while this is in the past there are still unresolved feelings. For instance when the film gets to a horrifying description of how killing the Jews became like clockwork. The voice over describes how they would burn the bodies of the dead at night so that the next train could arrive in the morning. While this is happening Kluge is showing the viewer these frames filled with tiny innumerable blocks on hundreds of different surfaces all over the Nuremberg Rally Grounds. This gives the viewer this understanding about how many people were killed and how faceless and uncountable they all became, and yet they are forgotten as nothing more than one of a hundred thousand blocks on an abandoned building.

"North by Northwest"- Suspense depends on editing.

As we know, it is famous for Hitchcock’s interview about Bomb which suspense creates when audience see a bomb under the table in the condition that a protagonist doesn’t know the fact and the time of the explosion comes. Based on this perspective, his “North by Northwest” has the outstanding suspense. The notable thing is that he controls the level of suspense by using editing relevant to each situation. In other word, I think suspense of this movie is very correlated to editing.
First, the short duration of editing in the beginning multiplies suspense. A bomb which some people kidnap and kill the protagonist explodes in the opening of the movie. And then audience questions himself like this ‘Why do they consider him as Kaplan and What happens next?’. Hitchcock shows the introduction from the start to the his escape being wrongly accused of the murder with very rapid transition of shots. Therefore, it is never boring for audience to follow the story until the bomb explodes.
Second, the editing between the protagonist and Kendall makes the tense tempo relieve even though he is in danger. Uniquely, whenever the director shows two people, fall in love each other soon, he always designs the relationship and mood by repeated 45º angled shot/ reverse shot.
Because shot/ reverse shot has identical size, eyelevel and symmetrical direction, we feel easily affection to become deeper between them and can deviate from suspense for a while.
Third, the scene chased by plane enhances thrill by doing eyeline match through POV.
The protagonist stands on the wide road. He looks around to find someone to be scheduled to meet. The shots in this scene consist of him and surroundings which he sees. This tells audience where he is and makes running him follow easily after the advent of plane.
In the end of this scene, fast transition between POV of protagonist and plane flying toward him reinforces the suspense.
At last, the movie keeps thrill until ending by suggesting the parallel editing between two people (protagonist and his lover) and the villains chasing them.
The continuous shots chasing and chased of two groups at the same time and space, at the sharp top of Mt. Rushmore, make us feel suspense by instinct even if we guess the happy ending.
As mentioned above, suspense depends on how the editing arranges and composes the shots.
Although we get ourselves absorbed in the narrative and acting of the cinema and cannot help grasping the compositions of shots easily, editing takes a essential role to show many feeling including suspense.

Changeling Essay by Ashley Akunna

Clint Eastwood’s Changeling starring Angelina Jolie, is a tale of a mother’s struggle to find her missing son. The film’s cinematography helps to illustrate much of the California setting and time period in which the film takes places. In the first few opening scenes, the bond between mother and son is established by the camera. We see mother and son leaving a trolley, while the camera closes in on their hands as they clasp. There is a lot of framing of people by windows and doorways. For instance, when Jolie drops her son off at school, the camera stays in the trolley, the two figures are framed by the trolley window. Also, after her son is missing, there is a scene where Jolie sits in his bedroom. The camera is outside the doorway, as the doorway becomes a frame. I feel that this is done to create a feeling of loneliness and separation. Because we are not allowed into these personal moments, we feel left out of the feelings she is going through. The scene in which Jolie goes to work, the last time she sees her son, this moment is intensified by the camera moment. The audience is given a clear indication that something is going to go wrong. Jolie stands outside, as her son watches from the living room window. As she walks away, the camera pulls away from the house. This shot decision was done to suggest the separation that the two characters will face, from that moment onward. It strengthens the feeling of separation and loss. When Jolie enters the house from work, her son is now missing, the camera takes on an omniscient view. We watch from above as she searches her house for her son. The camera does this, to suggest the emptiness of the house now that her son is gone.
The film uses establishing shots to give the viewer a sense of time and place. The camera usually starts in the horizon/sky and moves down towards traffic, and people, etc. In these opening scenes we are able to see the old fashioned cars, the palm trees, the distinctive California look, milk trucks driving by. We know that we are in California during the 1920s.
There is a sense of voyeurism in the film. The camera takes on an omniscient view several times. When Jolie calls to report her son missing, the camera is right above her right ear, as she holds the receiver. This is done purposely to magnify the sense of someone watching. In the film we find out that her son was abducted by a pedophile. These camera angles coincide with themes of perversity and peeping, which are evident in the film.
Towards the end of the film Jolie has a private meeting with her son’s suspected abductor in which she interrogates him mercilessly about her son’s fate. As the abductor refuses to tell her, he is dragged out of the cell. Jolie is left hanging onto the cell’s bars, as the camera moves away from her. This is done to suggest that Jolie is trapped in her own “prison”, because she doesn’t know what happened to her son. The camera becomes the abductor, and as he is dragged away, so is her hope for closure.

Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid--Ricky Leighton

The cinematography in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid solidifies the fact that despite their attempts at integrating back into society, Butch and Sundance are still held back by their social disorder.
The film starts off with Butch entering a bank and Sundance playing a game of blackjack. During the card game, the only person that is revealed is Redford. All others are out of focus or their faces are not shown. A confrontation occurs between Sundance and the other card player and the camera only shows him and the gun. Finally Butch shows up and kneels down next to Sundance. He is the only other character that is shown directly next to Sundance, suggesting that the two of them are on the same level of social class. Right away, the film tells us that their friendship is only something they understand and they coexist together on this same level.
Once they return to the Hole in the Wall farm, the next series of shots consist of extreme wide landscape shots with Butch and Sundance riding together. When they arrive to see the rest of the gang, there is still a major distance between all of the characters. This shows the type of world that they all live in. Every man is for himself and close, personal friendships are rare to come by. Everyone is appears to be alienated by society and must exist on their own accord.
This effect continues throughout the film. When Sundance and Butch have escaped the posse, they retreat back to the saloon in order to hide out. Suddenly the posse makes it way back and discover their location. The scene is extremely dark and little light is used to orient the audience as to what is happening. However, Butch and Sundance are shown in the same light and are often the only objects that can be seen.
The film concludes with their attempt at trying to settle down in Bolivia and get jobs like an average person. Yet, their social disorder inevitably rejects them from this as they continue to rob banks and actually kill people for the first time in the film. This is demonstrated by a much more conservative shooting style then the prior scenes. Butch and Sundance are shown in more public locations, with other people and with tighter shots. But regardless of what they do, the outlaw profile still succeeds within themselves, demonstrating that despite ones attempt at being average, someone's true nature will always show.

Død Snø [Tommy Wirkola] Cinematography

Tommy Wirkola’s Nazi zombie movie Dead Snow uses a plethora of deviceful shooting strategies to distinguish itself from other zombie horror genre movies and other comedies and other action-adventure films while simultaneously comprising all of those. Wirkola aggressively pursues strong visual situational and dramatic irony by playing with mise-en-scène. The setting for the film is a beautiful, snow-blanketed Norwegian mountain chain that Wirkola frames up in such a way in relation to the characters that it can convey treachery or solace or the insignificance of the characters in the vast stark landscape. Wirkola’s use of camera movement and sudden revealing cinematography lends heavily to the film’s frightening, exciting mood. Tension-building point of view shots and interchanges are the strongest moments in this film as Wirkola allows his viewers to empathize with the characters, especially in terrifying situations that can’t end happily. While the long shots of the mountains use the open air to establish utter isolation and helplessness, Wirkola also uses mise-en-scène once the characters are in close quarters to establish that same cut-off tone.

An example of Wirkola’s purely visual situational irony comes after the ex-military character Vegard dangles tantalizingly off the edge of a cliff from another zombie’s intestine while a second zombie hangs onto him and tears a chunk out of his neck. Vegard kills the Nazi, stitches his neck back up, wraps it in masking tape, mounts a machine gun on the front of his snowmobile, and takes off, prepared for anything--except for the zombie clinging to the back of his snowmobile. The zombie stands up, but before he even notices it’s there, is knocked off by a tree branch. Another example comes after a character amputates his arm to avoid becoming a zombie after he is bitten, only for a zombie head to pop out of the snow and bite his leg. An example of dramatic irony comes when a character is mauled in the outhouse and screams for help as she stumbles back to the cabin. She’s in the foreground screaming, the distance to the cabin exaggerated by a defined telephoto lens, a zombie darts across the screen and whisks her away, and another character finally opens the door in the background scanning the trees for her.

The long take where a weathered old Holocaust survivor reveals the historical significance of the mountain that explains the premise of the movie isn’t hokey whatsoever. Wirkola slowly pushes in on the man’s face which establishes him as earnest and sincere, and thereby his story is earnest and sincere. In the next scene, his tent is just a small, insignificant glowing red form in the middle of the overwhelming mountainous terrain. The shooting strategy is a big changeup from the confidential close-up of the last scene, but it makes perfect sense because his character is violently murdered and therefore the tone is established as far more unforgiving. Vegard on his snowmobile often takes up an insignificant amount of space on the screen, but Wirkola does this to depict the futility of Vegard’s search for their friend who went missing. Throughout the film, Wirkola also uses repetition of imagery of his characters lying in the snow looking up at the sky. The first time this happens, the girl gazes up at the night sky as she is ripped apart and devoured. There is the symmetry of the trees framing the sky and the clouds, and the shot, while grim, is also very aesthetically appealing, very much in the spirit of the shot in Rashômon where the woman is raped and stares at the sky. Later an iteration of this shot is used in a different context to express the relief of a character after she fends of an undead Nazi attacker.

Wirkola effectively decides when to shoot from a more literal, straight-on perspective and when to use camera movement to add to the meaning of a scene, and when to shoot handheld guerilla filmmaking style. A perfect example of this comes when a girl frantically flees from a zombie and runs up against the edge of a steep crevasse that is revealed only when the camera quickly zooms out. Another creative example comes after that same character regains consciousness at the bottom of the crevasse buried under snow. She’s disoriented and doesn’t know which way is up to dig herself out, and neither does the viewer as the camera rotates around, holding on her face. The chaotic handheld perspective is used only in the woods. The shaky handheld cue furthers the meaning that the viewer attaches to the woods as a visual metaphor. Whether they are having a snowball fight or being eaten alive, the woods are shot in a distinct, chaotic way because they function as a set-piece.

There are three occasions when Wirkola really wants his viewers to enter the psychology of his characters. The first time is the first time a zombie is on screen, and he does this to build tension and set the tone for the film. The second time is when a character is dying and being eviscerated. The lens has trouble focusing, and finally the scene builds to the moment where the character summons the courage to blow herself up to kill the zombies with a grenade she’s holding. This intimate cinematography confronts the viewer with the same dilemma. Wirkola uses a low-key, high-contrast style of shooting to express the points of view shots of the zombies. Mise-en-scène and points of view through windows are also visually thematic. There is a moment when two men peer out their cabin window as the camera backs out to reveal Nazi zombies everywhere, and their faces are trapped within the windowpanes. It is these provocative storytelling cues in the cinematography that create the meaning and evoke strong reactions in Dead Snow.

Kellie Lynn Bruce: “Killer of Sheep”

The film “Killer of Sheep” is a grim, yet beautiful look into the lives of a black low-income family and the daily decisions they make. The most striking element that stood out in the film to me was the director’s, Charles Burnett, uses of space between both the characters and the viewing audience. We the audience find ourselves playing multiply roles. We play an active participant in the kitchen as Stan goes into his monologue of how his life has changed, to playing a skeptic observer waiting for the mayhem of the long awaited car engine. This close relationship between the characters and audience is deliberate in bringing the audience into Stan’s reality. We are brought into his world by camera editing choices, framing choices, angles choices, and the decision when to uses a close up or wide shot. However, much of this close or personal relationship between us the audience and the actors would not have been so effective if Charles had not decided to film the personal, awkward, or intimate moments. We the audience find ourselves jumping around in different characters perspective. We are in Stan’s wife’s POV, when he and his friend are at the table playing dominoes, before being introduced to her as a character, and only through Stan’s reaction of seeing his wife there are we able to see whose POV we are in. Moreover after understanding and viewing Charles set up of the relationship between the audience and characters we can see his point that we are either active participants in this grim reality or just observers? After knowing or seeing the role we play what will our decision be? Will we continue like most characters just living and tolerating, will we just watch from afar, or will we make a change? Even if the change we make is small, it is still yet a change. “Killer of Sheep,” does an incredible job capturing and creating a meaningful story about ordinary people in a common yet, not so ordinary situation.

UNBREAKABLE

Everyone knows Unbreakable is a bad movie. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have some dynamite mise-en-scene. Specifically, the films use of color. Basically, the movie assigns three different colors to three different teams/kinds of characters.
The protagonist and his family are usually seen in green. While on patrol as a security guard, he wears a green poncho. His family, whenever shown, is in green always. The characters seem completely unaware that they only wear green and it is never actually addressed in the film. The protagonist’s truck is green etc. In the movie green usually is associated with life and living, and good in a general sense.
The film’s antagonist dons purple. Every time we see him he’s wearing it. His mother also wears purple. The color seems to represent knowledge and power. It’s often attributed to comic book super-villains like the Joker and Lex Luthor. Quite appropriate since essentially this is a superhero movie.
Lastly, there’s Orange/Yellow. The protagonist sees a man wearing yellow who he assumes to be a criminal packing heat. Later the man is shown to have had a gun on him. Yellow basically represents everything evil. The best example of this is when the protagonist fights a criminal in an orange jump suit. Several times, the hero in green is either tempted or swayed by yellow. It might also tie to corruption.
And those are the many colors of unbreakable. I guess I could go into why the protagonist is white and the antagonist and other foes in the film (including one played by the director) are black or some other minority, but hopefully there’s really no symbolism behind it. Maybe M Night Shyamalan just loves white people!

BY SAM FRIEDMAN

The Third Man

Carol Reed's The Third Man is a film with an excellent example of how cinematography can affect its audience. I don't think I have ever as uncomfortable and uneasy watching a movie, yet still very intrigued and involved. The first thing one notices when watching the film is how hash the black and white contrast really is. At points, characters faces are so vivid by bright white light that a small mouth movement replaces a line of dialague. At the same time, the background and all of the character's surrounding are extremely dark and distorted. In other instances, the darkness of night hides the identity of characters, but the bight street lights reveal important shadows that can't remain hidden in the night. This makes the film extremely dramatic for the viewer because the bright white light focuses the audiences attention while the darkness confuses and pushes them away. Camera angles also give the audience a sense of disconnection and almost foreign from the city of Vienna. Sideways allies, angled shots of complexed, geometric buildings, and huge, ominous urban portraits makes one feel almost cautious to watch. The location of Vienna is that of a grim, desolate city that has lost any flair or culture. Definetly not a welcoming city, the viewer definetly feels like a fish out of water. Each shot and scene from the film is very picture-like in the sense that when the frame is freezed the image looks something like a still-life painting of some kind. Finaly, closeups definetly play a large role in the film revealing character emotions and thoughts as well as objects and different identities.

Manos: The Hands of Fate

The cinematography in Manos: Hands of Fate is one of the most prime examples of how poor cinematography, among other things, can ruin a movie with an otherwise interesting plot. Manos, owing most of its infamy to Mystery Science Theater 3000, is often hailed as one of the worst movies of all time and indeed it is almost completely unwatchable without the MST3k commentary, owed, in large part, to the films poor cinematography.

The movie presents its first challenge almost immediately. The film opens with a heavily extended sequence involving a car driving through unremarkable rural countryside. The film continues this way for almost a full five minutes, while the camera work here could have helped to establish something important plot-wise, even so simple as to establish the film’s actual location, the time is instead utterly wasted on superfluous of landscapes, even at one point dissolving from the end of one shot to the beginning of the very same shot.

If the audience can manage to sit through this they are treated to a movie comprised mostly of blurry or underexposed shots. The director, Hal Warren, chose to shoot most outdoor scenes as night scenes, during the actual night time rather than using Day-For-Night, making shots either much to dark or very clearly lit by film lights. In once scene, two police officers are investigating the strange events occurring in the movies main plot, but because there is not enough light to light more than a few feet of space in the shot, the characters can only “investigate” about 10 feet from their car before seeming to give up.

Unfortunately, the film’s raw concept and story actually had the potential to be rather interesting if the movie had been shot more professionally but, as it stands, the poor cinematography and the onscreen results are so distracting that the film becomes a chore to sit through and/or ripe for mockery.

Eyes wide shut- Kyle Rollins

Stanley Kubricks last film "Eyes Wide Shut," is a film that deals with jealousy and sexual temptation. Cinematographer Larry Smith overlights the initial party scene and uses natural lighting for many of the scenes on the street and specifically the orgy scene in the mansion. The pacing of this film is very slow and this film has many long shots in it. These decisions are made so the audience can better understand and feel what Tom Cruises character Bill is feeling. Throughout this whole film, Bill feels as if he is in a dream like state. Each scene in this film is very dark and in some scenes we see the camera positioned in front of doors and mirrors when characters are talking or making love. The camera placement off mirror reflections reperesent the darkside of these characters and it also goes back to Kubrick and the cinematographer making this film appear as a dream. The camera is positioned from the point of view of Bills character and we are taken throughout the house and the audience is able to see what Bill sees. Even though Kubrick uses cross dissolves to show the passing of the time, the orgy scene is the longest scene in the film and has the longest shot. This film was criticized for being very unrealistic and that was the angle Kubrick was aiming for. Kubrick wanted this film to seem dreamlike and each decision cinematographer Larry Smitch made with the camera made the audience feel like they were in a never ending dream.

Seven - Cinematography

Thrillers and horror films constantly use cinematography to make the audience feel more in the film and more scared. The film Seven uses it for just that purpose. The camera is constantly strengthening your feelings throughout the story. In chase scenes the camera movement and cutting is swift, the image is often blocked by walls and doors and people just as the view of Brad Pitt is.

When the detectives enter the home of Kevin Spacey, the camera shots are close in to give the audience a stronger sense of the tight quarters all the detectives are in. The lighting is very dim with a lot of red lighting. It gives the audience an idea of just how erie the apartment is, and how unpleasant it is to be in there. The shots don't show the audience what is around the corner, just as the detectives don't know what's around it. It creates an element of suspense, and makes their discoveries even more important.

In the scene when Brad Pitt is chasing Kevin Spacey throughout the apartment building, the shots are quick, and are all from Brad Pitt's point of view. You still cannot see around corners and you only get quick glimpses of where Kevin Spacey is headed. Citizens get in the way of your view and it frustrates you just as it must Brad Pitt's character.

In the scene of the first murder, the lighting is extremely dim, and the shots are close, just like the shots in Kevin Spacey's home. However, you get a different feeling because the color of the lighting is more green instead of the intense red of Spacey's home. You get more of a sick and depressed feeling when watching this scene instead of a suspenseful one like in Spacey's home. Which is parallel with what the actual content of the scenes is.

Cinematography is used in every scene to intensify what the audience is seeing and hearing. In this movie in particular, it often sets a mood of depression and uneasiness. It is used to give the audience a better understanding of what these characters are feeling. It is meant to bring the audience as much into the scene as possible.

American Beauty Cinematography

The Cinematography in the film, American Beauty, plays a pivotal role in establishing character, both in their relationships to one another as well as the role each one plays in the movie. Much of the movie's perspective is derived from the main character, Lester Burnham. Consequently the cinematography reflects Lester's nature, which is at times apathetic, cynical, fatalistic, fantastical, and, ultimately, nostalgic.

The film begins with an aerial shot, displaying a typical tree-lined suburban neighborhood. Lester's voice over can be heard, but his house's location within the neighborhood is left unspecified and the viewer instead is left to absorb the endless slew of seemingly identical rooftops. As the film centers heavily on Lester's family life, perhaps one of the most indicative illustrations of this is the long shot of the Burnham's dining room that is used multiple times throughout the film. The decoration of the room is elegant but stark, exemplifying the Burnham's sterile home life. The composition of the shot itself is taken from the side of the excessively long dining room table, with Lester at one end, his wife at the other, and their daughter caught in the middle, indicating where she finds herself during Lester and Carolyn's bickering. When Lester goes to work at a job where he feels confined and unappreciated, the shot is constructed so that the ceiling, cubicles, and the harsh overhead lights are all exaggerated for the viewer.

Lester's fantasies center on Jane's best friend, Angela. The shots of these daydreams are executed with soft lighting, to reflect the serene nature of these dreams, and the color is minimal aside from the deep red of the roses that become synonymous with Lester's ideal of Angela throughout the film.

At the film's conclusion, Lester gives a posthumous account of his fondest memories. As he recounts these nostalgic moments, they are recounted visually with a left to write tracking shot in soft black and white, allowing for seamless transitions to give the feel that these memories flow together for Lester.

Irreversible - Cinematography Katie McMeans

Gaspar Noe's 2002 film "Irreversible" has a strong theme of the irreversible nature of time and actions. Shown in reverse, the film unfolds over the course of one night to reveal horrible events. The cinematography lends itself to the idea that "time destroys everything" in its hand held nature, the pace and length of shots, and in it's reverse chronological order.

The hand held aesthetic serves to give the entire film a shaky or uneasy feel, as if it was the shaky or unclear memories of someone recalling them. The length of the shots supports this idea of memory. The film opens (though this is the end effect) with a brutal fight scene. The scene is fast paced and unclear as if the whole thing happened so fast and in such a fit of rage that it can't even be remembered properly. This is also supported by the fact that this whole scene is shot as a POV. In contrast the brutal rape scene is one 7 min long shot and very clear as if this whole scenario or memory has been etched into the mind of the person recalling it.

The unease and pacing of the handheld shots supports the reverse cause and effect revealed by the cinematography. The purpose of the reverse is to take the viewer eventually back to the start, leaving them no room to wonder what will happen next, driving home the inevitability of the terrible events that have already took place.

Double Indemnity - Cinematography

Perhaps one of the most quintessential examples of classic film noir is Billy Wilder's 1944 movie Double Indemnity. The story itself epitomizes the genre alone, following the dangerous affair between the desperately and lonely femme fatale, Phyllis Dietrichson, and a naive insurance agent, Walter Neff, who falls into her deadly plot to kill her husband. But story aside, every moment on the screen captures the audience with its brilliant use of black and white cinematography. Not only do these cinematic choices set the standard for the tone of the film, but they also reveal deeper meaning for the characters and situations.

The mere placement of characters in the frame is a consistent and non-accidental choice Wilder makes throughout the film. Every shot has meaning and purpose. For one, when Walter first laid eyes on Phyllis and immediately fell head over heels for her, he was standing at the foot of the steps looking up at her, while she was standing behind the railing on the balcony overlooking the foyer. Not only does the railing separate them physically, but the shot sets her up as being the dominant one in the relationship (almost as if set on a figurative pedestal) that continues to play out in the film. The shot also separates them by status: he works hard to get his money and lives in a one bedroom apartment, whereas she lives off her husband's wealth, lounging around her mansion all day. Another shot that's consistent throughout the film is the way in which they must meet. Since their affair must be kept secret to save their reputations, they meet in the grocery store and are at most times, separated by shelves of food. This could represent the fact that while they are in this plan together, they are not on the same page. We later find out the Phyllis was just using him to get to the money, and Wilder's choice to conceal the bottom half of her face in shots behind the shelves makes this more evident. And perhaps one of the most powerful shots of the film occurs near the end when Walter's boss, Barton Keyes, finally realizes what Walter has been up to and he goes to his apartment to confront him. The shot happens when Walter and Phyllis are leaving, but Barton appears. Phyllis hides behind the open door and Barton stands on the other side, with Walter in the middle. Not only does the shot create tension for the audience (i.e. will Barton find her hiding?), but it parallels what's going on inside Walter's character. Here, he's literally and figuratively torn between two opposites: living a life of crime with the woman he's fallen for, or returning back to the normal life and job he has with his boss.

Finally, Wilder makes a great deal of aesthetic choices that help correlate the characters with the actual lighting in the film. For instance, the use of shadows is extremely prominent in the film noir genre. This could be because it sets the tone for mystery and suspenseful drama. While that tone is apparent in this film, the use of shadows is also a way to convey character motivation, especially on the part of Phyllis. In the scene in which she is driving her husband around, the audience knows that Walter is hiding in the backseat, waiting to strangle him from behind. When he finally does the deed, the camera cuts away from the initial murderous action to show Phyllis' face, half hidden in the shadows and half illuminated from the streetlights. This shot is so powerful because it is so dark and jarring and we can sense that she's an evil person on the inside, but she smirks while it happens, which makes it even more impacting. And lastly, many of the shots in the film that make it so unique is the way Venetian blinds and moonlight/sunlight play off a character, particularly in the final scene in which Walter and Phyllis confront one another. The moonlight seeping through the Venetian blinds in the dark room not only shows us that something bad is about to happen, but that people never are who they say they are, especially Phyllis. The crisscrossing pattern formed on her character from the blinds exhibits her deeply rooted and disturbed psyche that one needs to unravel to discover and even understand.

The Graduate

            Mike Nichols’ 1967 film, The Graduate, is one of the most influential films of the last fifty years. Its influence on pop culture as well as its significance in film history makes The Graduate a very special film. However, the cinematography and symbolism in this film and how it relates to the underlying themes in the story is what makes Mike Nichols’ The Graduate such a meaningful and significant piece in film history.

            The Graduate could be about several things and there are many underlying themes that make up the story, like the journey from child to adult, or most notably the theme of sex and relationships and the “art” of seduction. The cinematography in The Graduate helps accentuate these themes for the audience. In the beginning of the film, there is a scene where Benjamin drives Mrs. Robinson home after his graduation party. She invites him onto her porch for a drink and asks him to sit down. The porch is made of all glass, so the outside environment is completely visible. Large trees, plants, bushes and other foliage surround the porch, making it appear as if this porch is in the jungle. I believe this is a metaphor for Mrs. Robinson’s pursuit of Benjamin. Also, the blocking and positioning of actors in the frame emphasize the themes of the film. When Benjamin and Mrs. Robinson begin their affair, Mrs. Robinson places her leg in the foreground of the shot to remove her stocking. Ben is in the background and positioned perfectly “under” Mrs. Robinson’s bare leg. Nichols’ suggests with this shot that Mrs. Robinson is more powerful than Benjamin and that she is the predator and he is her prey.

            The Graduate is certainly one of the most influential and significant films ever made, and for several reasons. But one of the reasons this films’ themes are so well expressed is because of the cinematography and Nichols’ ability to communicate theme and story through shot and composition. 

Kwaidan; Masaki Kobayashi 1964

Masaki Kobayashi’s Kwaidan is a series of four tightly strung short films based on ancient Japanese Ghost Stories as collected by Lafaciado Hearn. Though many period pieces try there hardest to withtain a sense of accuracy to the time period, evoking as realistic and believable a setting as cinematically possible, Kobayashi delivers the exact opposite. Reality is rarely glimpsed throughout the film, almost all of it is unabashedly filmed on large, sprawling soundstages with large, obviously theatrical sets filled with wild, painted back drops. While many would try to evoke a realistic setting in a horror film, it is highly effective, taking us to a world that we understand is far away and maybe even almost forgotten, giving the atmopshere a surreal, dream like effect, reflecting the other worldy encounters mortals have with various ghosts and demons, showing us a world where the supernatural is very much alive and well. One short film, “The Snow Maiden” is prehaps the strangest looking in the film. Time passes quickly throughout, going from dawn into night in much of its length. While many would struggle to obtain subtle, nature like colors to evoke the passage of time, we are shown wild primary colors transitioning from vibrant oranges to dramatic blues to signify night time, constrasting madly with the white snows that surround the man-made landscape. Back drops also change in a fully theatrical manner, the moon is an obviously painted eye resembling that of an owls, symbolising the reign of the supernatural and the discovery that the dutiful wife is truly the Snow Maiden, a ghoul that devours the souls of those who have frozen to death. Throughout watching the movie, one understands that the theatricality of the film is not only an artisitic statement, but a very practical solution to several scenes that would be nearly impossible and tedious to film on location. In the next film “Hoichi the Earless”, we begin with an epic naval battle set in Ancient Japan between two rival clans. We are shown a dramatic soundstage with brilliantly colored water, where the battle is presented with the poise and pantomime of a kabuki play, a wild yellow sky blurred with impressionistic magenta.
Kwaidan’s theatricality not only shows within its lighting and sets, put throughout the camera work as well. Filmed in a 2:35.1 aspect radio, the large sprawling cinema-scope framing allows the camera work a strange distance from the audience, where we are shown long and beautiful wide shots, and only a few zoom in’s of characters reactions here and there to show us the scope of the characters conflicts. In “The Black Hair” we are presented with a man who has betrayed his true love to marry another and take a position as Samurai, choosing riches over the poverty he once faced. In one scene, as he observes his noble estate he now requires, we are shown an elegant and slow zoom in of his face, where we instantly understand his inner conflicts. This if followed by another scene, in which he hallucinates, imagining he sees his lost love across a lake, washing her laundry. We are shown a graceful close up shot of the woman, revealing her face filled with a false hope that he will return. Kobayashi gives us this distance between the film and the audience prehaps to remind us that these are folk tales, settings and situations wildly diffirent from encounters much of us have in everyday life, watching simple stories as one would watch on a stage. Even shots that aren’t sprawling and wide are sprinkled with a sense of obvious, but effective theatricality. In a archery contest, we are shown several quick shots of a man waving a fan to start the contest, a shot of hooves violently running, a long shot of the man on horseback, we eventually come closer and closer to him, where we are shown what is obviously the actor sitting on something other than a horse, a fan blowing in his face, the camera rocking back and fourth to give us the illusion of movement, followed by shots of his lover. Through this, we understand his guilt and how his thoughts of her have led him to ultimate distraction.

Cinematography in "Do the Right Thing"

In Spike Lee's "Do The Right Thing", the style of cinematography is manipulated specifically to emphasize the racial tensions between the characters. This is implemented through camera angles, camera movements and distance. Throughout the film camera angles become a direct medium for expressing the relationships between characters. For instance, the use of canted angles during a scene with Radio Raheem and Tony in the pizza parlor. As they are arguing the camera appears to be flip flopping between the two but at slanted angles, emphasizing the anger and animosity amongst them. Canted angles are especially critical in that they visually express that there is something demented or dysfunctional about the relationship between these characters. There are also low angles used in the same scene which highlight dramatic differences in stature between Radio Raheem and Tony and how they see one another.
The movements of the camera also plays a part in conveying the racial tensions amongst the characters. Much of the camera's movements are rapid shot-reverse-shots, because characters are often yelling at one another throughout most of the film. These fast paced camera movements create a heightened sense of tension and confusion. The speed of the camera adds an edginess to the dialogue through which the audience learns that the characters allow their personal struggles to interfere with their judgement about other races. Lastly, the camera's distance from the characters allows the audience to be more emotionally involved with the characters point of view. For example, the camera is normally close up on characters, placing the audience in the middle of the immediate action line. It increases the sense of mental and emotional stress that characters endure from dealing with one another in the heat of the moment.

Raiders of the Lost Ark

Raiders of the Lost Ark uses many shadows in its shot composition to give the film a comic book like feel. The use of shadows in the cinematography helps give a hint towards the story. The bar scene where Indiana has to get the headpiece to the staff of Ra, we first see Indy in a large shadow taking up the entire wall beside Marion. This shadow represents the fact that Indy was a large part in her life. As soon as she saw the shadow she instantly knew who it was. Then she goes on to tell Indy how he ruined her life because she was in love with him. Her explanation proves that Indy was huge part of her life and the shadow represents that. In the middle of the scene, Indy is leaving the bar, his face is completely in shadow but a small bit of light is shown on his eye. Indy needs the piece that Marion has. He leaves the bar empty handed and that little bit of light represents that Marion is the only way he can get that piece and she has rejected him. The light on his eye is the little glimmer of hope he needs to get that piece. When the Nazis come into the bar to try to obtain the piece, there is harsh shadow across the head Nazi’s face to represent that he is evil. This contrasts when Indy came in because Indy’s face was brightly lit.

Children of Men

In the 2006 dystopian science fiction film, Children of Men, single shot sequences were used to elaborate pivotal moments in the film in which sometimes complicated actions were occurring.  After Theo agrees to transport Kee, he is riding in a car with his estranged wife Julian, Kee, the midwife, and Luke. Their vehicle is ambushed on a country road during a brutal attack. The scene opens with the passengers in the vehicle joking around and Theo and Julian passing back a ping-pong ball with their mouths. A burning car blocks their car’s way and they are attacked as they try to reverse. Julian is shot and fatally wounded and the car is still moving and they are shot at some more. The scene is done in a single shot that lasts approximately four minutes and is an important scene in the movie that foreshadows the danger Theo will face after he agrees to transport Kee.

When Kee, the girl who is being transported, gives birth to a baby girl the shot lasts for over three minutes.  The birth of the baby is important because it is what is causing all the conflict in the story.  The current dystopian world suffers from infertility and Kee giving birth marks the first time a new human has been born in over eighteen years.

The siege at the end of the movie lasts a little over six minutes.  Theo escapes from being captured and runs through a building in the middle of raging battles.  This scene provides hope that he will be able to finish his mission of transporting Kee.  The director Alfonso Curaron’s decision to use single shot sequences help to emphasize important moments in the film. 

Cinematography in Jaws

 I have seen the film Jaws more times than I count. This viewing, however, was my first viewing of the movie under academic circumstances, with some beginner’s knowledge of the filmmaking craft under my belt. As such, this time around many realizations about the film’s cinematography and the underlying, almost subversive tactics used in camera positioning became blatantly apparent. I counted and tracked no less than 7 distinct strategies in the cinematography of this film, most of which had been completely unknown to me, despite my repeated viewings of the film, and most of which all culminated in the ending sequence. However, I have chosen to relate the specific strategy detailed below because of how blatantly it smacked me in the face the first time I realized its presence in the work.

            Anyone who has seen Jaws once can tell you that the character of the Mayor of Amityville, the movie’s prime location, is an idiot. Having seen the movie over and over, upon the first appearance of the Mayor, I knew the oblivious ignorance that was about to come. Each time, the Mayor converses with a protagonist, save the final scene he appears in, the protagonists get nowhere with him. Brody wants to close the beaches, the Mayor refuses. Hooper wants to perform a necropsy on the shark, the Mayor refuses. Figuratively, the Mayor cannot be swayed from his position, literally, when the Mayor is onscreen, we get nowhere with him.

            What I mean by this is that anytime the Mayor is onscreen, and especially when he is arguing with the protagonists, all of the characters are moving, quite animatedly in fact. Yet, the camera is positioned in front of the Mayor, zoomed in tightly on all the characters integral to the scene, and shot at just about chest-up. This completely flattens the image, taking all sense of depth out of the shot and completely negating any physical movements toward or away from the camera. In this way, every conversation with the Mayor gets no where, literally. There is no depth in the shot, just as there is no depth to the Mayor’s perspective, and there is no discernible range of movement, just as there is no change in the Mayor’s staunch position. In fact, the only bits of discernible movement and depth in scenes with the Mayor occur precisely when he or a protagonist make a point, or when the conversation is ending. The camera becomes the Mayor. It is the Mayor’s shot. There is no depth and no give, just like the obliviously ignorant character himself.

            This technique can be seen most well in one specific scene: this scene being the very first appearance of the Mayor, in which he declines Chief Brody’s wise decision to close down the beaches of the island. Throughout this conversation, the characters are actually moving on a ferry across an expanse of water, with ships and other things moving in the background. And yet, the camera positioning keeps the characters staunchly in place throughout the entire talk, utilizing a long take to never let the characters move from their position or get any depth out of the Mayor’s perspective. The only time in the scene that depth can be discerned, and it is only a small amount of depth, is just as the conversation ends, the Mayor makes a point, and Brody has lost this first of many verbal spars.

            This hilariously played technique, which directly describes the Mayor’s character, is used over many scenes of similar content, culminating in the final scene involving the Mayor. This scene, occurring right after an undeniable shark attack, gives us the most depth available in any scene with the Mayor and features Brody literally leaving his biggest, and least bright, roadblock far behind. The Mayor gets ever smaller, as Brody gets ever bigger, indicating that all power to halt Brody’s progress has been lost by the Mayor. Indeed, the Mayor is never mentioned or seen in the rest of the film after this this breaking of depth and movement, and except briefly in a conflict between two diametrically opposed protagonists, this technique of flattening the image to an extreme degree never occurs again. The Mayor, and his ignorance, have been broken forever by our main protagonist.