My piece discusses the coverage of the prison scene from The Count of Monte Cristo over different eras of filmmaking. I hoped that readers would discover cinematic techniques that were utilised in these films without needing a comprehensive understanding of the story. My writing had a strong focus on camera and lighting, aspects of cinematography that is most interesting to me. These aspects of filmmaking are key to the coverage of a scene. By providing insights of many directors of the same scene, the readers can see the development of filmmaking over time. With the introduction of new technologies, filmmaking becomes more and more complex. However, many of the fundamental principles still apply to modern films.

Given more time and access, there are a few ways to expand on this work. First of all, getting access to the script of the films would be invaluable in understanding the decoupage of the scene. The vast majority of the films I have discussed do not have a script that I could access or find. Furthermore, many of the foreign language films, mainly in French and Italian did not have English subtitles, thus, many of the nuances of the dialogue are lost on me. With enough resources, I would find translators to interpret the dialogue. This will allow me to complete a comparison of the characterisation of the characters. Finally, without the restrictions in place, I would have liked to try out some of the filmmaking techniques for myself. Starting from the silent era and layering on more and more modern techniques to demonstrate the development of filmmaking over the era. This is a more visual way to demonstrate my learning as well as being a great learning experience.

Cormack’s examination of the long take is fantastic in the way he presented it. What better way to discuss the use of long takes than to do one yourself. Cormack relates the use of long takes to directors like Hitchcock, Spielberg and Scorsese. By introducing the practical limitations of long takes (the length of film only lasting 11 minutes), he effectively introduces the techniques to cheat the cut between shots. His video makes me appreciate the delicate interplay between the camera and the performance of long takes; the video he shot surely had to be done with a few attempts.

Richard’s investigation into the speed and movement of the camera examines a particular aspect of coverage in great detail. He explains that Baby Driver, The Legend of 1900 and La La Land are all films which the camera’s speed and movement are used to immerse the audience. He does this by looking at a specific scene and the effects it achieves in the context of the film.

Assignment 4: the triplets

Demagogues, Doubters and Douchebags focus on the use of voice over in documentary film making. For their final assessment, they had to edit together a video where the same sequence of clips was used over 3 different voice overs that alters the meaning and style of the video. The assessment demonstrates just how important the voice over can have in a documentary film. For a lot of the works, there is often the best out of the three iterations that is the best suited for the footage. The sorts of footage also matter; footage without a subject, i.e. b-roll of a park or cars passing by is suitable for multiple uses, whilst footage with a distinct subject, like Martin did with him, will often relate closely back to him. Finally, the use of music and sound effects enhances the emotions that are generated by the voice over. 

The Scene in Cinema Week 7 Reflection

The Scene in Cinema Week 8 Reflection

The Scene in Cinema Week 9 Reflection

The Scene in Cinema Week 10 Reflection

The Scene in Cinema Week 11 Reflection

The Count of Monte Cristo: Throughout the Years in Cinema

The prison scene in the Count of Monte Cristo serves as a turning point in the first quarter of the novel. Edmond Dantes, the protagonist, is convicted of a crime he did not commit and is imprisoned without any explanation. During his 14 years of imprisonment, he meets Abbe Faria, learns of an immeasurable treasure and obtains a way to escape. In the context of the novel, this crucial event serves to bring Edmond from despair to hope and acts as the catalyst for his revenge that spans the rest of the story. 

The Count of Monte Cristo, 2002, dir. Kevin Reynolds

When investigating this scene through its numerous adaptations, it is easy to see the different ways in which the era of filmmaking has affected the coverage. Take the camera for example. In the silent era, the camera placement often suggests a set environment. We do not see all four walls of the prison cell, one of the walls is likely nonexistent. Both for the 1918 French film and the 1922 American film, the coverage of the scene feels theatre-like. When characters talk to one another, they face towards the camera and tilts slighting towards each other. From the 1934 American film onwards, more camera movements are used in the scene. As Abbe Faria demonstrates his writing on the wall, the camera pans along with it. Concepts like the 180-degree rule are followed in dialogues between Edmond and Faria in the 1943 Italian film. In the 1954 French film, the camera is able to cheat the confined nature of the location. The cell is shown to be rectangular but the camera is placed where the wall would be. In the TV series, usage of the camera differs from films. Most prominently is their tendency to go for longer takes. This is likely due to some of the series using a multi-camera setup like the 1964 UK TV series. During these long takes, the camera tends to follow Edmond as he moves around in the scene. When dialogue occurs, there is an equal amount of the same size reverse shots for the speaker. For the 1966 Italian TV series, the camera often tracks into closeups instead of cutting in the middle of dialogue. The frequency of longer takes is likely due to the length of the TV show, given more runtime to cover the entire story. In the modern era, we see the usage of handheld shots in the 1975 UK film. The camera follows Edmond as he walks around his cell in disillusion. The camera perfectly emphasises this through the slightly exaggerated camera shake and POV shots that place the audience in the cell. The 2002 film utilised cranes to give us an overhead layout of the cell.

Monte Cristo, 1922, dir. Emmett J. Flynn

The Count of Monte Cristo, 1934, dir. Rowland V. Lee

The Count of Monte Cristo, 2002, dir. Kevin Reynolds

Another aspect of interest for me was the lighting techniques used throughout the years. This inquiry into over 100 years of filmmaking led to understanding different perspectives of lighting. In the vast majority of the modern adaptations, lighting is given motivations. Most commonly, the cells will often have some sort of window on the side along with some sort of hole near the ceiling. This design allows a believable key and top light to be present in most shots. In the 1975 and 2002 film, smoke is added in the cell to create light rays from the ceiling which adds to the downtrodden nature of the cell. With the use of colour, we also see the use of colour temperature to indicate day or night as demonstrated in the 1998 TV series. The orange hue created by using a warm colour temperature suggests daytime, whilst a cold colour temperature suggests the night. Characteristics of light are also explored to varying degrees of success. In the 1979 French TV series, the prison cell is extremely dark, the use of hard lighting on the characters creates unflattering hard shadows around their eyes. For Abbe Faria, who has black facial hair and black clothes, it becomes difficult to separate him from the background. On the other hand, the 1934 American film’s use of soft lighting on many of the closeups creates a sense of awkwardness. Edmond who has been in prison for 8 years does not have any blemishes on his face. When thinking of motivations for lighting, I highlight the tunnel sequence for comparison. In almost all adaptations, when the characters are traversing through the tunnel, they often use candles for illumination. For modern films, the lighting reflects this. The character’s faces would be lit only by the candle they are holding, we know this by the warm colour projected from the flame. When it comes to the black & white films, motivations for lighting become unclear, especially the ones that felt more theatrical. The objective for lighting becomes less about the mood or to supplement the subject, but to gain the correct exposure for the scene and make every object visible on camera. This results in the tunnel being lit without a diegetic light source. In retrospect, the desire to make sure everything is lit in a scene is something that people do today. TV commercials, for example, have their own ideology of lighting that is consistent with their standards, i.e. soft lighting on model’s faces and diffused top lights.

The Count of Monte Cristo, 1975, dir. David Greene

The Count of Monte Cristo, 1998, dir. Josée Dayan

Le Comte de Monte-Cristo, 1979, dir. Denys de La Patellière

The Count of Monte Cristo, 2002, dir. Kevin Reynolds

The Count of Monte Cristo, 1934, dir. Rowland V. Lee

As mentioned earlier, Edmond spends exactly 14 years in prison, the passing of time is shown through different methods. For silent films, the usage of title cards explains that time has passed. This is most similar to the novel, where Dumas would write the number of years which have passed since the last paragraph. In the black & white films, the most common method to show time has passed is through a dissolve. Although the audience is not told how many years have passed exactly, the reset of the scene, along with a longer beard, clues us in that a significant period of time has passed. Both the 1966 Italian TV series and the 2002 film chose to include montage during the prison scenes. They both utilise the montage for ellipsis; quickly skipping through the time it took for Abbe Faria to impart knowledge and skills unto Edmond. Unique to the TV series, a text of the year is placed onto the screen to further emphasize the time spent. Out of all the films I’ve looked at for this project, the 1998 French TV series deals with time in a different way. The prison scene serves as the introduction, it is the first scene of the first episode. Edmond in the prison is in real life and he recounts the events that transpired in a flashback. This reorganisation of the timeline of events could be the filmmaker’s attempt to grab the audience’s attention with intrigue. 

Monte Cristo, 1922, dir. Emmett J. Flynn

Il conte di Montecristo, 1966, dir. Edmo Fenoglio

Across more than 100 years of adaptations, the prison scene enables Edmond to figure out who his enemies are, gain knowledge from Abbe Faria and discover the treasure of Spada. For the vast majority of the films, the prison scene serves as the end of the first act. Edmond now has the means by which he can both escape the prison and exact revenge on his enemies. At the start of the scene, he is in despair and confusion, and by the end, he is invigorated by the desire for revenge. Ultimately, my investigation over the eras of filmmaking highlighted techniques which I was surprised to see used so long ago, as well as methods of filmmaking that are still being used today.

Watching the directors of The Kid with a Bike explaining the choices they make in each scene was really interesting. It felt effortless in their explanation but also reveals the amount of planning done beforehand. The scene in the diner, for example, demonstrates the ability of the art department to transform a chic restaurant into a sport’s bar. It was quite surprising to see the original location of the scene with the directors. The scene where the father speaks to the woman echoes an idea that the less an actor has to do in a scene the more difficult it is to look good. In this scene, neither of the characters have anything to do, they merely speak to each other, in that sense, there are no actions for the camera to capture. Watching this scene, I realised that I was not bored by it, the main reason is the blocking of the characters. The characters do not stand at the same spot, they move ever so slightly according to the flow of the conversation. At the same time, the camera sways slightly to adjust the shot size from one character to another, creating a reverse-shot. Although there were no actions for the actors to perform, their movement in the frame becomes the focus of the scene.

When I mapped out the shot list for the book store script, I noticed that I attempted to cover the scenes in as few shots as possible. One of the reasons was that with fewer shots, there are fewer setups needed, leading to fewer expenses and the faster the scene can be completed. The downsides to this are that my interpretation of the script will differ to that of the scriptwriters. For example, in scene 2, Ella’s interaction with the cashier could become a moment of suspense or comedy depending on the cuts and camera placement. By providing the cashier’s perspectives, we would see an additional performance from Ella that could portray her anxiety and nervousness. The limitation that comes with following the script line by line will result in a convoluted shot list; every mention of an action or object could suggest its own closeup. I think one of the most important facets that influence the decoupage of the scene is the effect the scene is trying to achieve. Apart from what the scene will do in terms of carrying on the narrative, the effect that the scene is trying to convey should be taken into account when deconstructing the script into a shot list or storyboard.

The cut between scenes can take the audience to any place or time. In 2001: A Space Odyssey, a cut from monkeys tossing up a bone to a satellite crosses thousands of years in plot time. However, these are cuts between scenes, where dialogue or action as conveyed by the script creates denouement that elicits a sense of closure. When the cut occurs, the audience can take a breather and move on to another scene.

When cutting between shots, there are certain restrictions. For example, when we see a medium shot of a person reaching for an object, we would expect the shot that would follow to be a closeup of the object and not something else. The timing of this should also be frame-perfect with the action of the medium shot. The shot that follows would also be a small shot size and not bigger. Of course, none of these is hard rules for filmmakers to follow. But not following them would lead to moments of discomfort and disconnect. 

I think that whilst there are elements of cinema that are subjective, there are also aspects that are objective. It could be the audience and filmmakers collective agreement to follow historical precedence and specific rules that help to create what is aesthetically pleasing. This is how an average viewer can tell the difference between something that is amateur and professional. When a video on YouTube claims to be ‘cinematic’, it just means that they are trying to recreate what is generally agreed upon as elements of cinema. For some, this can mean a certain crop factor, shallow depth of field or a certain colour grade. A great short film shot on an iPhone can be more cinematic than a poorly planned short film shot on expensive cameras.

Ultimately, what makes cinema cinematic can change over time. It is not up to the equipment or the slick editing, but a combination of all aspects of cinema up to this point.

Jack’s presentation on elevator scenes shared similarities with my report, in that we are both focusing on scenes that take place in a confined space. In the case of an elevator, the area is a rectangle. There are certain measures that must be taken in order to film inside it. For my prison scene, it is unique in that there are two prison cells with an underground passage that connects them. An investigation on the ways different films cover the location could be interesting to include. 

Furthermore, I should take into account the tone of the scene in the context of the story. The prison scene is absolutely a turning point for the main character; going from despair to hope. Both in the novel and its adaptations, the way this critical moment is presented will allow me to discuss this scene thematically. The effect may not be tied to a single technique, but it would be the sum of what the filmmaker carried out. 

Another presentation I was really interested in was Ada’s focus on car chase scenes. It would be interesting to understand the safety measures taken for a car chase. For blockbuster action movies like Fast & Furious, the car chases are often the most important scenes. Some would be shot using visual effects, but I would imagine the ones with real cars and actors are difficult to film. The camera operation during car chases is worthy of investigating. It depends on the location that it was shot at (in a field or in a city) and how best to convey the action. For example, an establishing shot by a crane or a drone, then the camera would be mounted on cars to match their speed.  Also, the presence of brand deals with car manufacturers in modern films would also influence car chase scenes. With sponsors, the filmmakers would be encouraged to show off the cars in a positive and appealing light. This could contrast well with films with no car sponsors. 

I now have a greater appreciation of listening shots than before. When there is a reverse shot of an actor listening, something happens in the mind of the viewer. As the camera cuts away from the subject who is talking, the disembodied voice no longer has a face and a mouth we can connect. What we focus on now is completely on the reaction. I find myself focusing on the eyes of the listener, trying my hardest to interpret his or her thoughts as they listen. The audience will focus more on the listener’s face and not so much on the words that is spoken. The director can then use this to guide the audience’s attention to something. In the example of Strangers on a Train, in the reverse shot of Barbara listening, we see her looking downwards. This provides a natural cut to the closeup that follows. 

At the same time, to attract all the attention onto an actor’s face meant every expression will be examined closely. The scene of the woman taking a train ride required significant acting talent, not just because it was in one take, but also keep stay in character without any other sources for her to bounce off of. There are no other actors in the same space, nor any particular actions she had to perform to pass the time. To perform the roughly two-minute train ride without looking awkward is very difficult. 

This week, I’ve continued to read The Count of Monte Cristo and parts of the 1964 TV serial adaptation. The nature of TV resulted in cliffhangers at the end of each episode, which usually gets resolved immediately at the start of the next. The camera tends to be handheld when in a set environment. There is also a heavier emphasis on dialogue rather than action. Apart from this, the order of events has remained true to the source material.

This week we focused on acting in films. And that rudimental tasks are actually more difficult to look good on screen. This got me thinking about the nature of acting on screen and the difference between amateurs and professional actors. It is strange that some people are naturally more photogenic and suit the screen better than others. According to online sources, a lot of what makes someone photogenic is on proportions and bone structure. In my own observations on set, professional actors tend to have a switch that allows them to get into character as soon as the camera is rolling. When we say cut, they quickly return to their normal selves. To become comfortable in front of a camera no doubt requires a lot of past experiences and practice. A lot of this ability comes from the actor’s personal interpretation of action or emotion. 

In the scene, we saw in A Woman’s Face, the same scene where Anna leaves the boy and undergoes a change of heart has a different performance by the actors that portray her. In the original, Anna seemed to be surprised by her change of heart and realises that she should not murder the boy in that instant. On the other hand, in the 1941 film, Anna seemed hesitant to allow herself to be swayed by kindness. The way she moves the boy’s hand away from her and quickly exits the room illustrates her restraining her emotions. The way these same scenes could have different interpretations can be attributed to the writer and director, but its execution is attributed to the actor who understands the inner workings of Anna at this point of the film. As the director, the ability to direct actors is crucial to create a believable performance. I think a large vocab of verbs with varying intensity can speed up the process of directing actors.

The Scene in Cinema Week 4 Reflection

The Scene in Cinema Week 5 Reflection

The Scene in Cinema Week 6 Reflection

The Scene in Cinema: Yesterday Descriptive & Analytical Writing

Jack, who overnight became the only person in the world who remembers the Beatles, took advantage of this situation and, using his own singing talents, is on his way to be the greatest music artist in the world. During his rise to fame, he loses the affection of his long-time partner. He decides to seek the advice of John Lennon, who is alive in this reality.

In the first segment where Jack visits John at his home, the drone shot which tracks the taxi guides our eyes along the road towards the house. The next shot, where the figure of Jack is obscured by the grass in the foreground cuts nicely with the shot prior. Both shots we follow a black object going from screen right to screen left. At this point in the film, the audience does not know who Jack is visiting, which is why the next shot throws the subject out of focus, eliciting intrigue as to whom this figure is. The paintbrushes and drawings on the table allude to a creative and artistic person. At the door entrance, our attention follows a focus pull to reveal that the figure is John Lennon. Interestingly, the dialogue exchange between the two did not follow the 180 degrees rule, as the closeup on Jack places him on screen left instead of screen right. The crossing of the line here was rather natural due to the wide shots from Lennon’s perspective. Although neither the camera nor the characters themselves move in this shot, we can understand from the wide shot where the characters are spatially.

The lighting during this exchange is assumed from the sunlight as it is during the day. Both Jack and John are lit by a warm tungsten light which comes from the same direction. The warm colour temperature of this lighting is made to simulate the golden hour in the afternoon, where this exchange takes place. 

In the following series of drone shots, we see the two walking along the waterfront, eventually sitting down on an upturned boat. The coverage of this dialogue scene is composed of a medium-long shot of the two characters as it slowly tracks forward. A similar shot which comes from the inside of the house frames the two of them inside the windowpane, it too tracks closer forwards as the conversation touches an intimate topic for Jack. We cut back to the characters, now at a medium closeup. This shot establishes a sort of mentor-like position for Lennon, as he leans in to speak while Jack attentively listens. The characters are back-lit at an angle from above, creating an outline around their clothing and head, and fill light in front of them allows their faces to have proper exposure. 

From Lennon’s over-the-shoulder shot, we can see that the lighting is again from the sun. This time, the sun is at a different angle. As the two stand up, we can see the light source is above the building. When the camera pans up, the shot becomes a medium shot and we lose the details in their clothing due to the sun. Instead, high contrast of the scene forms silhouettes of the two figures as well as an intense lens flare from above, producing angelic imagery. As the scene concludes, the camera is once again inside the house and tracks backwards for the first time, signifying a change in the character as the film enters its final act.

Ultimately, the John Lennon scene serves two main purposes. First, it is fanservice for the Beatles enthusiasts, seen in the slow reveal of said character. Structurally, it is used to create change in Jack to own up to his mistakes and to pursue the girl he loves.