Link to scene

Upon my initial venture of a scene analysis I had decided to analyze a classic: Jean-Luc Godard’s ‘Vivre Sa Vie’ (1962). That decision was compelled by my desire to explore the elegance of films in the French new wave movement. I then reconsidered as I decided my real desire was to explore a more contemporary film with that same elegance, that same sense of refinement. For this reason, I chose to analyze Wes Anderson’s ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ (2014).

The elegance is not accredited to the story, which essentially follows a concierge (Ralph Fiennes) who befriends his employee (Tony Revolori) to prove his innocence after he is framed for murder. No, this elegance is assuredly accredited to this film’s form. The film’s narrative is in fact dark, referencing a devastating period of war. The fact that his narrative can still center on this subject matter and remain graceful is what I admire most about Wes Anderson as a director.

I am analyzing a scene whereby the outrageous yet beloved Concierge, Gustave H, receives long time hotel visitor, Madame D (Tilda Swinton), who happens to be incredibly obsessed with him. The scene opens as the narrator offers “ our story begins with the beloved…” which then cuts from the narrators face (CU) to the title ‘M.Gustave’ written in the foreground of a red door. The narrator’s voice abruptly stops as the audience is impelled to read the name themselves. The slight awkwardness of this moment in fact sets up the tone of the remainder of the film, which continues to utilize this type of sudden abruptness through editing. The audience observes a side view of Mr Gustave as he paces across the hotel room to open the door. Here we have a beautiful synthesis between the setting and camera movement. The set, which is almost perfectly symmetrical with bright colours of pink, yellow and red, resembles that of a dollhouse. The moment an off screen knock is heard the camera smoothly pans following Gustave travel across the room in an almost overly choreographed fashion. The lens used her would be a wide angle lens which enables more information into the frame. The camera movement itself basically screams to the audience of its artificiality. The set itself is filmed in a most symmetrical manner, emphasizing the intricately detailed world of the Budapest hotel. Anderson is emphasizing the lack of realism for a particular reason here. A film does not need to mimic the physical world realistically in order to offer some truths about life. Rather, Anderson seems to suggest quite the opposite: the abstract, and overly fictionalized world in this film offers the greatest and most genuine truths about humanity. Gustave’s determinism and intrigued self actually offers an optimistic perspective of persevering despite the grim backdrop of war (war perhaps functioning here as a metaphor for all that is unexpectedly devastating). The camera simply pans back as Gustave returns to the room with an assembly of maids who hurriedly place tables and decorations around the room. The camera crosses the separating door between the two rooms, which further enhances the scene’s artificial set like nature. As Gustave guides the workers, he stands framed perfectly in center of the screen in a wide shot that reveals the depth of the room. The two butlers on each side of the frame enhance the symmetry.

A fast-paced inquisitive sounding harp that echoes the speed of the movement within the frame supplements the organized chaos of the moment. The music itself is even synthetic sounding, in that it does not enhance the realism or the emotion of the scene, rather functioning as another piece of the choreographed puzzle. Similarly, the warm yellowish lighting within the scene emphasizes the saturated colors within it.

Anderson utilizes the technique of repetition liberally throughout this film, further enhancing the choreographed atmosphere. The long shot then cuts to another abruptly silent close up of Gustave. Oddly, it is that abruptness that to me enhances the elegance of this scene because each sudden stop allows the audience a ‘breather’ where they take in the moment prior and prepare for the moment to come.

Here begins a discussion where Madame D begs Gustave to come with her in her travels, as she is afraid of being alone without him. Although this scene is bathed in a beautifully light-hearted finesse, the audience experiences the melancholy nature of an old woman afraid of loneliness. To achieve that level of depth and complexity while maintaining the sensibility of the scene is also a reason why I admire Wes Anderson. The moment is covered by a simple shot- reverse- shot technique; however, there are extended pauses where the camera lingers on the individual before they speak. Although the previous shots seems hurried, moments like this change the pace and what you are left with is a scene that satisfies both needs to immerse yourself within a film that progresses the narrative yet, every once in a while, encourages the audience to stop for a moment, and breathe with the characters. This abruptness is again carried out as Gustave interrupts his kind supportive dialogue as he suddenly notices Madame D’s “physically repul[sive]” nail polish. The melancholy guitar playing synchronically stops as Gustave changes topic matter.

This conversation is also framed in a two shot that sometimes alternates between the shot reverse shot sequences. This medium shot emphasizes a great depth of field where Gustave and Madame D are foregrounded, the food-filled table and the opened balcony doors are middle ground, and the mountains are in the background. It is this depth of field that, in my opinion, adds another touch of delicacy. Instead of constant cuts that simply enhance the action, Anderson reveals beautiful static shots of a stunning, doll house-like mis-en-scene that encourages the viewer to be more active in their watching experience. This particular frame appears to be shot using a zoom lens whereby the cameraman stands afar from the subject and zooms into them. The audience can now look around and focus on what they choose to look at as opposed to being forcefully instructed by the camera movement. The length of the shots is extended to allow time to take in such beauty. I have only witnessed such an elegant atmosphere in the films of German Director, Ernst Lubitsch, whom Anderson himself has admittedly been inspired by. I am particularly reminded of a scene in Lubitsch’s’ ‘ The Merry Widow’ (1934) where Danilo and Sonia engage in a moment of continual eye contact as they are seated at different tables at a ball. There is no speech here rather, long lingering close up shots of eyes as they stare at each other. The elegance of this moment is simply in the fact that things are suggested as opposed to literally. No words are spoken yet the audience is able to experience the character connection within this moment.

I strongly argue that this elegance and sensibility cannot exist without the acting technique of the actors. The camera can linger on an actor yet if that actor is not engaging, the stylishness ceases to exist and becomes quite oppositely unbearably awkward to watch. Fiennes is overly expressive, again in a caricatured way that mimics his artificial surroundings suggesting the characters themselves want to escape the harshness of the way through this fantasy world. The way in which Fiennes delivers his dialogue is encapsulating as he speaks in unnaturally fast pace with perfect eloquence that encourages the viewer to listen closely for every word.

The following shot is inside an elevator draped with the colors red and purple. So much so, in fact, that there is no semblance to the real physical world within this shot. Here Anderson purposely creates an awkward environment where Gustave and Madame D are seated to the right of the screen whilst the elevator man and lobby boy are in the background to the left of the screen

(perfect symmetry once again). The woman in red, as echoed by the elevator colour is distinguished from the workers dressed in purple to emphasize the social class differences. Here, the camera functions as though the fourth wall of the elevator, simply revealing the pair speaking. Again, the audience is not forced to focus on elements within the frame, they may choose to observe Gustave as he comforts Madame D, or observe the focused mannequin-like lobby boys. The audience may shift focus from one side of the screen to the other and take in the difference in dynamics within the elevator.

For myself, a film is sophisticated when it does not try so hard to direct the viewers attention but rather, encourages them to actively play a part in understanding the world presented to them; something I believe Wed Anderson has achieved incredibly in The Grand Budapest Hotel.

So… Week 3 and I already feel as though I’m being pushed into the deep end of a 7meter deep pool.. the thing is.. I like it. Yes I’m being pushed out of my comfort zone but what I’m gain2ing out of it is more practical than I could have imagined.

Last week we were divided in to groups with the brief a scripted scene with yet a different number of constraints: we were to film a maximum of 6 shots that we would then edit into a scene. What was so interesting about this experience is that, we had to  efficiently create a dynamic and emotive scene scene that effectively delivers the narrative elements. These shot constraints spark a quest to find creativity in other cinematic elements such as mis en scene, framing, edit style, setting etc.

This week we observed each student’s edit and it was amazing how, although the individuals had filmed the scenes together, their final edited produced varied, often greatly. Here were some instances that I admired:

– Aki chose to begin his scene with a CU panning shot of feet dancing. As the camera continued to pan the audience is introduced to an awkward girl on a couch sitting isolated in the left of the frame. What I love about this idea is that their did not need to be an immediate contextualizing wide shot that establish where the characters were. It’s great that Aki understood the scene as part of a larger whole – that is the film – therefore, undermining the necessity to contextualize.

– I also loved a different edit (same scene where a girl stood up observing the dance floor whilst the diegetic background music played). When the girl sat down on the chair, music simultaneously shifted from being diegetic to non-diegetic as it suddenly became louder to become a soundtrack. That inspired me to think more about how we can subtly shift between the diegetic and non-diegetic.

Something Robin said really stuck with me and that was that each of the two classes undertaking the same subject had already developed their own film culture in the space of three weeks (we observed the other classes work and found great differences – particularly that they were more creative with the story elements whilst we seems to push the creativity through our shots). That’s something I would love to research further as it will speak volumes about the way in which directors find themselves influenced by those around them.

Lastly, we were shown the original films that our edits were based on and this was fantastic. I was especially struck by the train scene that my team had filmed. There was a combined total of 4 shots in that scene. Meanwhile, we had ironically been worrying about only utilizing 6 shots. The main point of difference is in the pacing of the edits. Each shot lasted much longer than 2 or 3 of our shots combined. It really opened my eyes to the possibilities that can be achieved through pacing. The scene, in my opinion, was much more effective in its emotive nature as the lingering camera shots invited us to enter the world of the characters.

Weekly Epiphany: My weekly epiphany is inspired by the train scene from the film ‘Fizdanti’. Longer shots are NOT BAD!! In fact, they are incredibly effective when used appropriately. However, in saying this, as the long shot lingers on the actor, the actor needs to be captivating. As such, acting technique and camera shots can become an unstoppable duo 🙂

In my exploration of camera coverage I’ve decided to base my research on one of my favourite directors: Martin Scorsese. I specifically want to analyze the opening scene of Taxi Driver (1967). As background information, the narrative centralizes around a character that seems at odd with the external world around him. I am focusing specifically on the camera coverage within the opening scene of the film. Here we have an almost continual shot-reverse- shot of Travis

(Robert De Niro) as he observes the ominous streets of New York from the inside of his cab. The extreme close up of De Niro’s eyes creates an immense sense of what director Jean Epstein calls photogenie whereby the camera brings to life inanimate objects. The lingering shots on De Niro’s eyes become a metaphor for seeing the world through a lens of fear and alienation. The switch then, to a long POV shot of the street reveals it as though a deep menacing ocean of frightening characters where even the traffic lights adopt a horrific persona. There is very little actual variations in camera set up. The focus is on the two shots themselves. What I love about this coverage is its effectiveness despite its simplicity. As an audience we really get to experience the mental subjectivity of the character.

More research coming next week… 🙂 

Today in class we discussed the actual functionality of traditional camera coverage strategies. Whilst this isn’t a finite structure that one cannot stray away from it does prove logistically valid. Whilst in a classroom setting one may have extended periods where they can move the camera around in alternative positions until the scene is acquired, this is not the case in a professional film shoot. There are time and monetary constraints therefore the director must also consider the most efficient way to successfully cover a scene. For instance:

The Wide shot (Establishing/contextualising shot)  is filmed first for multiple reasons:

1. If the film crew were to run out of time at least we would have coverage of the entire scene.
2. We need to establish a lighting scheme through the wide shot that we can match in the more intimate shots.
3. The wide shot is also a good point of reference for continuity so that we can match it with the more intimate shots also.

We also undertook an exercise whereby we were given a scene to film. The constraints however, included that we had to edit in camera (pressing start and stop as substitutes for cuts. We also only had a 3-5 shot constraint. The constraints were interesting because, although we wanted the scene to be aesthetically pleasing we first had to think about logistics in terms of the continuity of the shots. I learnt a lot from this exercise, specifically due to a forced heightened sense of focus on continuity.

Epiphany of the week: Oh so many! I think I will go with my recognition that logistics of camera coverage and realizing that your camera crew need to work efficiently. Alfred Hitchcock planned out every single element within camera coverage before entering the shooting space… this must mean a planning of the most efficient yet productive way to shoot. Spontaneity and creativity is great, but without logistical understanding you cannot successfully deliver that creativity.

Found scene deconstruction

Upon first viewing of this scene at, the audience immediately recognizes the discrepancy between the Miller and the Portokalos family. The majority, including myself, would accredit this awkwardness to the acting of the characters. Certainly, this is a factor however, the camera coverage plays a dominant role in realizing this scene’s awkwardness.

The framing of the first two shots are quite similar in relation to the physical space around the characters. Both families are framed in a mid shot. The difference is that there are three millers and approximately fifteen Portokalos’ within the two frames. These shots are designed to emphasize the physical distinction between the two families.

The second frame – being a point of view shot from the Millers – encourages us to feel the intimidation felt by the two characters, Ian and Harriet Miller, at the point of encountering. Synonymously, the lingering of the camera on the Portokalos family invites the audience to take in the shocking density created by the mass amount of people within the frame. Centered at the bottom of the frame is a giant lamb that is roasting. The decision to linger the camera on this shot with the lamb continuously twirling on the spit adds an element of shock to the moment.

Constant cuts from the two family viewpoints create a stunning juxtaposition whereby the audience adopts both the place of the intimidated conservative Miller family, and the outgoing, ‘all-too-Greek’ Portokalos family. What Interests me is the choices made in designing the camera coverage here. The choice to frame so many people in a small space and then cut to a frame of the same length with only two people perfectly exaggerates the distinctions between two different families.

The camera adopts a slightly unsteady fashion as it lingers between the Portokalos family with a mid-close up shot as though it were one of the family members standing in the yard. This shot drew my attention because it makes me, the audience member feel somewhat entrapped within the claustrophobic space.

The last shot is a long shot that frames both families in the front yard of the Portokalos house. Previous to this shot, the Portokalos father, Gus, is introducing his endless list of family names. His list is then validated by the visual elaboration of the factual size of his family. This shot creates a great imbalance whereby the Miller family stands isolated in the background with the backdrop of the fire lit lanterns and street view whilst the Portokalos’ takes up the rest of the space.

What I love about a scene is when the camera coverage effortlessly exists. What I mean by this is that I don’t want to constantly be aware of the change in camera angles and covert editing as though I were watching a reflexive documentary (whereby the audience is actively made conscious of the construction of the film itself). Through the deconstruction of this scene I’ve begun to slowly tap into what it is I like about certain types of camera coverage, and that is, that it is subtle yet strongly delivers the intention. Looking back, we watched a scene from ‘Le Feu Follet’ (Louis Malle, 1966) whereby I was very conscious of the different camera angles for two reasons I believe: 1. There were many alternative angles 2. There were multitudinous cuts between those angles. I found myself distracted by the camera as opposed to the action in the scene. When watching a scene, I want to be immersed within the illusion of the moment, as opposed to being constantly reminded that I am watching a construction.

🙂