The way the documentary ‘Grizzly Man’ (Werner Herzog, 2005) is edited and narrated all aid to create a really interesting almost philosophical narrative out of footage that can be, at times, quite funny. We actually talked a bit about the humour of Timothy Treadwell and how it was used within the documentary. Lots of people, myself included, found it sort of hard to crack a smile until we’d gotten used to the kind of black humour of it all. Because yes – we’re allowed to smile! Some of the things he said were really, quite funny. My personal favourite was Treadwell’s endearing names (for example Mr. Freckles) for giant wild bears and the domesticity of his situation, despite everything.

Herzog uses many conventions of the documentary filmmaking to tell Treadwell’s story – such as voice over narration, ‘real’ footage, natural sound and lighting, and so on. Voice over and real footage are crucial elements of Grizzly Man and edited together, they manipulate the audience to take a certain stance on the character of Timothy Treadwell. For example, Herzog frequently shows footage of Timothy talking about death – his own, specifically – leading up to his tragic fate. This foreshadowing is imminent from the very beginning of the documentary – we know he is going to die, and this is only a reminder. This is especially evident during footage shown from just 5 hours before he was attacked, where Treadwell talks of dying for what he loves and his final resting place can be pictured in the background of the particular shot – Herzog wastes no opportunity by pointing this very fact out to the audience.

As the documentary unfolds, Treadwell is depicted to become slowly more unstable. Herzog manages to leak Treadwell’s unravelling sanity as the story plays on until we no longer see him as just a quirky, unusual but well meaning man (though I still feel this way despite the swearing rant scene).

Aside from the mostly naturalistic footage of Treadwell himself, much of the interviews with close friends and family feel… for want of a better word – fake. As we talked about in class, many of the acquaintances of his were ‘media savy’ with the pilot even being an actor, reinacting some of the events of when they found Treadwell and his girlfriend dead. The most unnerving being the Coroner – who is the one to tell the audience about the death in uncomfortable detail.

Vernon, the narrator, has a strong presence the entire documentary and even in many cases goes on a sort of… ramble, about the meaning of life. The best example of this is during the very ending where he talks of the ‘cold unfeeling’ eyes of the bears who were, in the end, Treadwell’s demise.

Vivre Sa Vie was a very interesting screening choice. Going into it, I was very tired, or at least the movie made me feel tired. I know I sort of nodded off once or twice for a few minutes and I had to shake my friend awake twice too. I think sometimes subtitles do that to you, coupled with the black and white and the long, exhausting shots without breaks. Overall, I liked the aesthetic of the film, especially the cinematography. I was a huge fan of the lead actress, she was radiant on screen, despite my misgivings about other elements of the plot and so forth. I enjoyed listening to the French language and the experimental nature of the use of audio, which was the focus this week to begin with.

Some of the audio aspects that intrigued me the most was the lack of backing track in terms of instrumental sound. I think a majority of the film was relatively silent in that regard (minus of course dialogue and atmospheric sounds). The scene that stuck out for me the most was the dancing scene in which Nana dances around the men to an up-beat instrumental song playing on the radio. I really enjoyed that sequence, I thought it was a very clever use of sound when the rest of the film very deliberately lacked in such a thing. I think because of the quietude of a majority of the film, these particular scenes are emphasized and noticed more by the audience. The scenes with the most unusual amount of sounds are the ones I remembered – firstly the dance sequence, secondly the balloon miming and lastly the gun shooting.

During last week’s seminar we had an interesting discussion about narrative, notably in relation to the movie we watched the day before, ‘Mystery Road’. Personally, I was a fan of the film simply because it was Australian, which is hard to come by. There were a few times that it lost me, especially in the shoot out and the overall discovering of who killed the girl, but it was easy to overlook when the film was just so beautifully shot.

The opening title is apart of the film, which is interesting considering most would simply superimpose. It’s the sign of Mystery Road itself and the clouds are parted enough to make out the silhouette. When the frame gets tighter though, the cloud shrouds the ‘road’ part, so that you can only read mystery. I thought that was a very clever way of indicating the thematic concerns of the film before it had even opened on the first scene.

I have to admit; narrative confuses me a little. Things like inferred events (when something is talked about but not shown and usually takes place before the plot chronologically) are relatively easy to understand. But when it comes to the difference between plot and narrative, I get a little hazy.

From what I can tell, narrative includes objects, place and people that all help illustrate the plot. I think! In Mystery Road, this would be things like the girl’s necklace and phone, which are clues to her death which is the whole plot. Place would be obvious – Mystery Road and outback Australia in general. People would be Jay, the protagonist, whose perspective is established within minutes of the opening scene.

Thursday’s Cinema Studies seminar was a little denser than in the past. Usually the routine goes a little like this; we have a little class discussion at the start, dive into re-watching scenes from the movie watched the week previous and then analyse together. Certainly, we did all of those things. But not only did we discuss the Life Aquatic, but also the Zodiac. I’m personally quite a fan of the Zodiac – I went into the screening without any pre-conceived notions, except that I knew the film was going to be long. I didn’t know anything about the Zodiac killer (aside from the occasional online meme – like the theory that Ted Cruz is in fact, the infamous murderer).

We ended up talking about Mise En Scene and Aspects of the shot with both these films. Last week I already did a little analysis on the Life Aquatic from home when sick, so I’m going to spend this post devoted to the Zodiac.

In order to discuss the aspect of the shot, we re-watched the entire opening scene of the Zodiac. Arguable the most comforting of the whole film, in which we following a couple on their journey from Darlene picking her boyfriend up, all the way to their brutal murders in Lover’s Lane. One of the very early shots, which is from the POV within the car looking out the side window, is cinematically very beautiful. It’s also affective in triggering that unease within the viewer – I know that when the boy ran up to the car I thought the killer would be in the driver’s seat because of how ominous and ambiguous the perspective of the car had seemed leading up to that point.

The ‘god shot’ when the couple first drive into Lover’s lane is used to show just how deserted the area is and the lighting of the car headlights with the blackness all around creates a kind of entrapped feeling. Fincher also used close, tight shots from within the car to make you feel apart of the constriction, almost trapped with them. This ‘god’ perspective is not used the entire confrontation, until after the gunman is returning back from his car to ‘finish’ them off when he could see movement still.

This week’s reading is on Mise En Scene and the film we watched in order to analyse this was The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. I’m a fan of Wes Anderson and even more so of the French “put in scene” to which Mise En Scene refers to. I’d already seen The Life Aquatic, along with several other of Anderson’s quirky films. Like The Grand Budapest Hotel and Moonrise Kingdom, the aesthetic and cinematic beauty of The Life Aquatic is enough to draw you in. Personally, The Life Aquatic is not my favourite of his – storyline wise – but I was a fan of the Mise En Scene, luckily.

Year 12 Media taught me quite a bit about Mise En Scene, so even though I’ve done the readings, this is stuff I’m already pretty familiar with. In my own words, it’s basically everything within the scene from props to character’s position that create meaning. In The Life Aquatic, this stuff is pretty crucial.

The readings actually gave the example of George Melies (who we discussed all the way back in week one), and I can’t help drawing a comparison between Melies’ artistry and Anderson’s The Life Aquatic. I wouldn’t be surprised if Anderson was inspired by Melies, notably his A Trip to The Moon. Though generations apart, both utilised decretive sets and fantastical costumes to create a dreamy quality.

For example, the obvious set of Steve Zissou’s ship as we follow characters through the separate rooms is reminiscent of the cardboard space ship within Melies’ film. Other elements such as the puppeteer looking fish and aquatic animals that are stylistically similar to the props and sets within Melies’ film.

Okay so ‘mental’ is the political incorrect way to describe the short films for this week, but at least it was punny. This week’s Cinema Studies was a little different. Instead of a 2 hour film, we watched a bunch of experimental short films. It’s interesting to watch something with variety, each film different from the one before it, and even more so interesting to find out what my peers felt about it. My personal favourite (I’m using ‘favourite’ loosely, considering I wasn’t a fan of the other shorts showed) was the third, ‘La Jetee’ by Chris Marker. I thought it was both incredibly absurd and clever to use only photographs and a narrator to tell a story.

The readings spoke a little bit about why a film maker might use experimental themes to create their film. The most obvious being of course, to tell no specific story, instead to create something abstract – like the first short we watched ‘Ballet Mécanique’. Although that was very interesting cinematic wise and historically (considering how far it dates back for the genre), I never find it the most engaging. I’m a fan of the story-telling type of film making, even in something so eccentric as experimental film.

The form of Avant Garde films is an interesting concept, considering things like narrative are often abandoned. The function, too, is hard to pin point in many of the films we watched today. What I did notice a lot across the board though, was the use of repetition and similarity. For ‘La Jetee’ it was the bookending both in plot and cinematically of the Dock scene and the character’s death. For ‘Ballet Mécanique’ it was simply repeated footage of things like the lipstick wearing smile and so forth. The other films included these themes a lot, too, which I thought was interesting. I think it definitely added to my feeling as a viewer, of disorientation and confusion – dream like almost.

Yesterday I had my second Cinema studies seminar, which I’m starting to think is my favourite subject. I really like that it’s the last class at the end of the week, because it just feels more relaxed. I also feel like I kind of know what I’m doing, in terms of film analysis, plus I’m enjoying the discussion about my childhood favourite ‘the Wizard of Oz’. This class we were talking about film form, which has a number of different identifiers (function, similarity and repetition, difference and variation, development and unity or disunity) which manipulate the audience to feel or think a certain way.

We re-watched 2 short clips of the movie and tried to see it from a different perspective, as well as being split up into groups to think about 3 major things – patterns, feelings and meaning. My group was allocated feelings – how did the film evoke emotion and what kind of ‘feelings’ did the characters portray? We all agreed on a number of main points. Firstly, the acting is so theatrical that you’re basically being told flat out what to feel. None of the characters experience complex emotions, only jumping from devastation to joy. Other signifiers were things like costume and acting, especially in regards to the Wicked Witch. With the knowledge that ‘only bad witches are ugly’, we are then introduced to the terrifyingly bad witch of the west. Things like her green complexion, her hunch and long fingers, iconic laugh and even the instrumental theme that tells us how to feel toward her as a character.

The technicolour versus b&w also came up in conversation – with feelings, meaning and pattern. Firstly, feelings because the bright and vivid colour in Munchkin land evokes a positive emotion, while the dark shadows of the Witch’s castle makes you feel uneasy and scared. Patterns occurred when the start is b&w and then it returns to that, (meaning: it’s also symbolic of reality versus dream) bookending the story. The sepia also could represent the Great Depression, and reflect how Dorothy feels about each world (home was dull, while Oz was colourful and exciting).

I could go on for days trying to pick apart this classic, but I’ll end it here!

Another week, another Cinema Screening. I can’t say I was as excited about this week’s ‘Holy Motor’ than I was for ‘The Wizard Of Oz’. Nonetheless, I gave it the benefit of the doubt. Immediately I knew it wasn’t something I’d seek out in my own life. It’s got a kind of David Lynch feel, but I definitely enjoyed Mulholland Drive more than this, I gotta say. Some of my friends were saying that they at least enjoyed the cinematography, but personally I was so confused and made uncomfortable by the plot that I didn’t have time to admire the artistry. The film basically follows a man a day in the life of his job, but it’s a little more obscure than something in an office. I didn’t totally get it, but it was something along the lines of an acting gig. He’d get ‘appointments’ and portray roles, only they seemed to be real life situations. I liked that idea, but felt it wasn’t executed in the right way. It was a bit slow, incredibly weird and don’t even get me started on the finger biting, latex suit sex or monkey family. It did have some good things to offer here and there though – for example, Kyle Minogue’s odd little cameo (although breaking into song felt out of place) and the hilarity of Oscar (the protagonist) awkwardly leaving after playing out an old man’s death. I especially liked the little car scene at the end. Other than that though, I really didn’t love it.