Finding The Ear – Sem 1, PB2
Group members: Olivia Staffieri and Brendan Jones
Liv unfolded the piece of butcher’s paper and there it was in blue ink, ‘Two lovers. Violence. A Better Life.’
Just like that, a story was born… sort of.
Unlike the creator of our studio’s namesake, generating a film concept did not come as easy as it did for David Lynch with Blue Velvet (1986.) I justify this by using one word – ‘Collaboration.’ Collaborating with other individuals sees its own set of obstacles, one of which that is most prevalent in creative industries being a clashing of styles. I definitely know what I like and how I want to express myself through art, which is why it was particularly difficult for me to take a step back, submit, and follow Brendan’s plan. Relinquishing my totalitarian ways, our group forged a basic premise that is as follows – a short film that exposes the way that children view the world, especially in regards to how they interpret violent affairs. Bang. Done. Where to from here?
Prior to reaching this point, I had been brainstorming film concepts that were based upon Gaspar Noé’s Love (2015), a provocative film that I had watched three times in the cinema because I wanted every inch of it’s masterpiece to rub off on me. Although our group had transformed the role of ‘The Lovers’ into two children, stripping away that layer of romance, Noé’s leading male, an aspiring filmmaker named Murphy, makes a statement that can move across to our project regardless: “My dream is to make a movie that truly depicts sentimentality.” I raise this point because Murphy has a vision and he goes with it wholeheartedly, allowing it to guide him in all pursuits. As discussed in my previous blog posts, short films should be an extension of the filmmaker’s attitude and perhaps viewed as an episode that exposes emotion. The concept for our film may not be what I wanted, but it will nevertheless be a product of the way that Olivia, Brendan and I view and react to the world.
(I literally cannot boast enough about Noé. Whatever it is that I choose to make – he will always be in my mind, body and spirit)
- The use of colour in Love is stellar. As the film progresses, the prominent colours featured on the screen change, which could be something that my group explores – as The Children witness more and more violence, the projections featured on the screen behind them could grow more sinister? Think Jackson Pollock.
- Washing the entire screen in a coloured filter could also be an interesting method to utilise.
- The theme song in Love (‘Le Temps Détruit Tout) is this hauntingly beautiful track – featured in the trailer below – that repeats itself at integral points within the character’s lives. Although I’m not shooting a 3-hour film like Noé, the use of instrumental music needs to be utilised effectively in my piece. Do we layer screams, children singing?
Gaspar Noé – “The best filmmaker you’ve never heard of.”
Now that our group had a central premise to work off, we decided to dissect certain aesthetics and moods that we wished for our film to exhibit. Having an immense love for theatre reminded me of the convention of German Expressionism; a style of art that stemmed from the 1920’s desire to embrace change. Often abstract, expressionist drama aimed to embody “the universal essence of humanity, rather than its particular manifestations,” (Kuhns, Pg. 81) in turn transcending realism. Original cinema of this genre revolved around topics of war, industrialism and dreams, as the filmmaker tried to search for the truth in bleak and grimy surroundings – a product of the aftereffects of World War One. Characters were regularly depicted as grotesque and lacked any individuality by way of being named, but perhaps most significantly, German Expressionist cinema dissected subject’s inner psychological workings in an unnatural way. Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) and Robert Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1930) became the focal points of inspiration for our piece, admiring the use of stylistic line work and dark shadow that the director’s employed to convey an off-putting sense of grim concerns.
Sharon Packer’s Cinema’s Sinister Psychiatrists: From Caligari to Hannibal details further that there “seems to be something Darwinian about the survival of sinister celluloid psychiatrists. They must serve a greater purpose than is apparent on the surface.” This is true in the fact that the implementation of psychiatrists in film have still managed to thrive in cinema over time, despite the majority of the population being open to some form of psychotherapy. Why is this? I assume it’s because as an audience, we relish in seeing the filthy facade of authoritative/medical figures. Most likely, these mean-minded doctors exploit innate fears about mind control that continue to constantly plague the public, despite laws being put in place to prevent the use of unsafe medical prescriptions. Indeed, this could be linked with The Psychiatrists in our piece, who oversee the treatment of The Children.
Whilst not fitting into the expressionist genre, Ana Lily Amirpour’s A Girl Who Walks Home Alone at Night (2015) has a variety of bleak elements that silent films utilise to exhibit their stories. The scene that specifically comes to mind is the one in which ‘Girl’ dances in her basement. An atmosphere of youthful energy permeates the screen as she moves stylistically to a Persian pop song, heavy with 80s synth. Despite this, her intense gaze, which is directed to no one in particular, summons a deep sadness or sense of loneliness in response to a world that keeps her on the fringes, never accepting her. It is these types of characters that I love the most – the ones that for whatever reasons, are hopelessly drifting through their meagre routines.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L29cUnjnGtE
Speaking of the mundane, David Lynch’s Rabbits (2002) is an interesting series to derive inspiration from, especially with regards to our piece. Set in one single furnished room, presumably a garage, human figures in rabbit masks go about their mundane lives – ironing, reading, watching television… What makes this so special however is the sound design that Lynch has employed, transforming these simplistic scenes into thought-provoking pieces. Example: A Rabbit opens the door and enters the scene, an audience claps and cheers yet the other two figures do not ackowledge his existence. This Lynchian disregard for any clarity of meaning is something that I wish to emulate with Enfants Curieux (a title which I selected because everything sounds cooler in French, non?)
To continue on with sound designs, I decided to do some research on language and children’s books. This lead me to the work of philosopher Donald Davidson who determined that “There is no such thing as a language.” (Irwin and Davis, Pg. 132) This caught me a little off-guard because isn’t Davidson using language to deny its existence? Surely, after some more skimming of his work he completed the sentence with, “…Not if a language is anything like what many philosopher’s and linguists have supposed.” Most of this writing was academic spew, but Irwin and Davis made a link to Lewis Caroll’s Alice in Wonderland, which relates back to the children’s stories that we researched for dialogue ideas. Alice famously states, “What’s the use of a book without pictures or conversation?”, which I agree with to some extent. Success in communicating is what we need to understand before we ask about the nature of meaning or of language. How is my group going to successfully communicate our themes and have them come across as sincere? As truthful?
In addition, Karen Lury’s work in The Child in Film (2010) analyses the way that children are portrayed through out various genres. Whether it be in mystical lands, Horror or War-time films, Lury explains how the presence of youth enables Directors to explore the world through the minds of the innocent – a notion that is reminiscent of Tim Burton’s methods. I suppose this would be appealing since children can more often than not unveil ugly truths about our society, forming a juxtaposition between “the good and the bad.”
To conclude, I realise that there are still a few gaps missing in Enfants Curieux – it is easy enough to say that we aim to create an impression of something, but I feel that our group still needs to explore what that ‘something’ may be. The only way I can describe this ominous ‘something’ would be if I could grab Noé’s Love in my fist and squeeze it until all the raw emotion poured out into our project.
References –
- Packer, Sharon. Cinema’s Sinister Psychiatrists. Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers, 2012. Print.
- Love. France: Gaspar Noé, 2015. Film.
- Onderdelinden, Sjaak. “David F. Kuhns, German Expressionist Theatre. The Actor And The Stage.”. Arbitrium 18.1 (2000): n. pag. Web.
- Davis, Richard Brian. Alice In Wonderland And Philosophy. Hoboken, N.J.: John Wiley & Sons, 2010. Print.
- Lury, Karen. The Child In Film. London: Taurus & Co Ltd, 2010. Print.
- A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night. United States: Ana Lily Amirpour, 2015. Film.