My Take on Timothy Treadwell

In Cinema, we watched Grizzly Man, a documentary about a man named Timothy Treadwell who was obsessed with bears and nature. Watching excerpts from his own videos through the documentary, I (and I believe many other members of the audience) was struck by his peculiar nature and deep obsession with the wilderness, particularly his apparent nonchalance when faced with enormous, unpredictable and powerful adult grizzly bears. For the most part, I think that Treadwell was a nutter, and kept thinking to myself, ‘he’s insane, he’s mad, maybe he is simply not well,’ and my mind was drawn back to yesterday’s lectorial on media institutions and Michel Foucault’s studies of how abnormal behaviour is perceived and treated in society.

Firstly, what made Timothy Treadwell ‘abnormal?’ I would say, from watching Grizzly Man, that it would be his unusual accent and mannerisms. At a first glance, he seemed effeminate which made his character distinctive and out of the ordinary, particularly in the wilds of Alaska.

Secondly, his unusualness came from his deep passionate confessions of love and admiration for bears. In a social context, most people may say they respect bears when brought up in conversation; but he publicly preached about them. Furthermore, his character implied that his love for the beasts made him naïve to their wild, powerful and deadly nature. He said so himself, without much concern, that he was at risk of bodily or fatal harm, and yet he persevered and stayed within the vicinity of bears. Why would a sane person risk their lives and safety for the sake of studying and ‘protecting’ such dangerous creatures? This, I believe, is what would help classify Treadwell in society as a ‘weirdo,’ a ‘nut,’ ‘delusional’ or ‘crazy.’

Treadwell was a fascinating character and is fascinating to observe, because he is a brilliant example of someone in contemporary society who is, in his own way, mentally unwell. He has a history of drug and alcohol abuse, and voluntarily stopped taking antidepressants without the clearance of a doctor and I believe these are grounds for someone who is troubled; not necessarily mentally ill, but confused and unwell. If we were to examine him through the lens of Foucault’s Madness and Civilisation, we would engage in a sociological study of the relationship between Treadwell as an individual and society on a larger scale. In the documentary itself, his friends and acquaintances recounted him as unusual, troubled and, to some degree, worrying or even frightening in his obsession. Even Treadwell’s relationship with the audience while watching the documentary would be an interesting one to study. For one thing, how would we, as an audience of this somewhat biased a perception of a documentary, express our opinions of Treadwell in a social situation with friends or in a discussion in Cinema? That’s something that intrigues me, because I definitely have opinions of Treadwell that I want to clarify for myself.

My Take on Narrative in Documentary

My favourite documentary is Rize, dir. David LaChapelle in 2005. It follows the dance phenomenon of Krumping in South Central Los Angeles, a dynamic and revolutionary dance style that the black community turns to instead of violence and drugs. It stunned me when I first watched it, and I was inspired by the incredible dancing and enraptured by the stories of individuals in the community.

I think what struck me about Rize, and was reminded of in the M. Rabiger reading on drama and narrative in documentary, was the struggles that people went through every day in this community.  What struck me in particular was a quote from the reading by Michael Roemer: ‘Plot is really the rules of the universe at work.’ The way that I understand this quote is that although a complication in life, or of the universe, may be resolved, there is always another complication after that.

In Rize, there are many conflicts within the community that practices Krumping, despite their efforts to avoid things such as drug hustling and gang activity. After the Battle Zone event that goes successfully for Tommy the Clown, he comes home to find his house was broken into and robbed. In another incident, a young girl is killed and the grief felt by her family and the community reveberates through the film. These events of the documentary encapsulate the idea Roemer suggests, because in Rize, despite the fact that the community gets through incidents and crises in many shapes and with varying outcomes, there is always another complication that arises.

Baz Lurhmann’s Use of Sound

I like to think of Australian film director and former music video director Baz Lurhmann as a king of sound design. He uses diegetic sound in a way that is powerful and gripping, creating vibrant worlds that seem to assault the senses with exaggerated noises, foley and sound effects.

A scene that perfectly embodies the Lurhmann use of sound is from his 2001 film Moulin Rouge, early on in the narrative when protagonist Christian (Ewan McGregor) enters the Parisian nightclub for the first time.

Here, Lurhmann’s experience in making music videos is shown clearly; this is essentially an enormous music video. We hear several different songs, all MODERN songs, not of the year the film is set in (1899): Because We Can (Fatboy Slim) Lady Marmalade (P!nk, Lil Kim, Christina Aguilera, Mya) and Smells Like Teen Spirit (Nirvana). Lurhmann often uses contemporary, catchy and rhythmic music in his films regardless of whether or not they fit with the time period; this is seen and heard in the Great Gatsby (2013). The use of modern music, particularly music associated with dancing and partying, creates a surreal atmosphere. It feels surreal in the sense that despite being in a different era and time, we can relate across time periods to the partygoing atmosphere.

Additionally, throughout the scene, the diegetic sound is clearly pronounced; the partygoers stamp in time to the beat, their clothes rustling is exagerrated, and as the scene progresses these sounds become more exaggerated, and emphasise a sense of the wild, rambunctious and unbridled excitement of the club. Additionally, the audience feels sucked into this hypnotic psycadelic whirlwind of the Moulin Rouge, and the use of the modern upbeat soundtracks allow them to relate to the scene; a wild Friday night at a bar or club.

Baz Lurhmann’s unbridled and indulgent use of sound and music sets him apart from other mainstream filmmakers, making him a king of sound design.

Jeremy Bowtell on Editing in Media

In our Media 1 class yesterday, we began with a presentation from guest speaker Jeremy Bowtell on editing; specifically, in film. For me, editing a film is the best part of filmmaking. I find it a meditative experience, requiring patience as I go back and forth trying to find the right place to cut. What I found interesting in Bowtell’s presentation was this trifecta that contributes to editing in film: Rhythm, Emotion and Story.

Rhythm refers to the technical aspect of editing; does the cut fit into the sequence in a way that fits with or challenges the rhythm of the score or soundtrack, or has a jarring or subtle effect on the audience?

Emotion refers to whether the style and Rhythm of editing evokes a feeling within the audience. For instance, in the gore-filled ‘torture-porn’ horror, Saw, the style of editing in the flashback of Amanda Young instils anxiety, fear and apprehension in the audience through its face-paced, erratic and frenetic style of cuts.

Story is how narrative within a film progresses based on editing. Bowtell provided us with a quote by Edward Dmytryk: ‘Never make a cut without a positive reason.’ This can be referred back to how Story and Editing are intertwined, as Dmytryk is saying that a cut made through editing should be done to allow the narrative to progress in a relevant and efficient manner.

My Take on What Makes ‘the Lord of the Rings’ Iconic

CAUTION: Spoilers ahead

Earlier today I found myself having a conversation with a co-worker studying a degree in business/commerce about what makes films iconic, and found myself dumbstruck at his curiosity surrounding why the Lord of the Rings franchise is ‘iconic,’ ‘classic,’ ‘awesome’ etc.

So I had a quick think to myself: what would allow it to qualify as ‘iconic’ films? What I believe has Lord of the Rings rooted deeply in the culture of film and media includes its capacity for visual gorgeousness and furthermore its concept and storyline.

Firstly, a disclaimer: I have an incredibly biased view considering that LotR is one of my favourite series of all time and I could never get sick of it.

The story itself surrounds the fellowship of the One Ring; friendship, loyalty, courage and compassion are notions that are heavily evoked throughout the story. This spans from Samwise Gamgee’s vow to protect Frodo Baggins in the beginning of their quest in Fellowship of the Ring, to the cathartic closure of their journey in the scene at the top of Mount Doom, following the destruction of the One Ring, in Return of the King. Friendship, love and compassion are elements in the narrative that overpower forces of evil and corruption, which can be seen in how the army of Minas Tirith sacrifices everything against the overwhelming armies of Sauron, to ensure the successful destruction of the One Ring by Frodo in Return of the King. The timelessness of these thematic concerns that can be related to  consistently through human history, such as a sense of comradeship that can be linked to JRR Tolkein’s time in the armyduring the Battle of Somme, contributes to the iconic and timeless nature of the franchise.

Adding onto this, the visual wow-factor of the films are stunning to audiences, as director Peter Jackson’s influence led to much of the film being shot using practical effects, stunts and actors. For instance, a core moment for me in the entire series is the Battle of Helms Deep (The Two Towers) as the battle sequence is almost entirely shot using practical effects. The visual element of battered armour, ornate swords and weaponry mixed with the ghastly faces of orcs and Urukai provoke for the viewer a sense of thrill and excitement, as we are encouraged further to believe in the fantasy onscreen.

The Lord of the Rings is a brilliant series. Of all the films that I have watched, nothing comes as close to home as the original trilogy does. The Hobbit had so much potential, but really didn’t need such unnecessary expansion and tacky, plastic CGI.