Cinema Experience.mp4

Critical Reflection

In completing my short project, which included a video/photo and audio piece, I engaged with both my own and my friend Saverio’s experiences of cinema. The project aimed to respond to the broader prompt: “If the cinema is dead, dying, transforming or disappearing how can it be remembered?” and explore how our personal connections to cinema align with themes such as the ephemerality of cinema-going and the “death” of traditional cinema.

The first challenge I encountered was how to bring out meaningful and reflective responses during the initial recording process. To do this, I developed a set of personal, open-ended questions that helped me and my friend explore our backgrounds and emotional connections to cinema. We delved into how cinema impacted us growing up—what it felt like to sit in a theatre, how certain franchises shaped our imagination, and how our relationships with cinema have changed over time. The questions I used, such as “what is Cinema to you?” and “How did you experience/feel about it growing up?” allowed us to reflect more on the themes of change and loss associated with cinema. Our answers touched on the community aspect of cinema-going or TV/Film experience, the physicality of cinema theatres, and how streaming has altered these experiences.

During the editing process, I faced several challenges. The most significant of these was adjusting audio levels between different recordings, as some sections were noticeably quieter than others. Achieving a balanced audio experience required me to carefully edit individual sound files, adjusting volumes without making them sound too janky and distorted. The visual component of the project included images of a cinema I was close to combined with a movie montage from Youtube.

I meant to reflect on the idea of cinema as something fading from our current landscape. One of the overall themes of our studio, “the ephemerality of cinema-going,” resonated strongly throughout this project. By combining personal reflections with visual and auditory elements, my work grapples with how cinema, as we once knew it, seems to be slipping away. The answers I collected from Saverio and myself reflected this change, from the physical, community nature of going to the cinema to the more convenient on-demand experience of watching films through streaming services. This change embodies the “death” or “transformation” of cinema-going.

The cinema is amazing but it honestly isn’t the same or as impactful as it once was when I experienced the big screen as a kid with the buzz and excitement of a shared community transformed by the story portrayed on the lights.

In Weeks 1 and 2 of our studio, we embarked on two intriguing field trips: one to ACMI’s “The Story of the Moving Image” and another to explore the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne. These excursions provided rich opportunities to reflect on the concept of “phantom cinema” and the lingering traces left by cinema in its various forms.

The visit to ACMI was particularly fascinating, especially revisiting it after two years. The exhibit showcased the evolution of moving images, tracing cinema’s history from its inception to contemporary forms. What struck me was the multiplicity of the event referred to as the “death of cinema.” This notion aligns with the mythology of the phoenix, which rises from its ashes to be reborn. Cinema, too, has faced numerous “deaths”—from the advent of sound and colour to the rise of television, home video, and digital streaming. Each supposed death has led to a rebirth, transforming and adapting to new technologies and audience behaviours.

The exhibit’s portrayal of cinema’s resilience and adaptability made me ponder the concept of “phantom cinema.” Brian Jacobson, Veronica Paredes, and Christopher Hanson, in their introduction to “Deaths of Cinema,” argue that the medium undergoes constant reinvention, leaving behind ghostly traces of its past incarnations. At ACMI, this was evident in the interactive displays and archival footage, which conjured the ghosts of cinema’s history, reminding us of its ongoing evolution and survival.

The second excursion, exploring the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne, was equally enlightening. Visiting these sites revealed how cinema spaces have been repurposed, leaving behind physical and ghostly phantom-like traces of their former glory. One striking example was the cinema on Russell Street, which has been transformed into an apartment complex. This repurposing signifies a form of death for the cinema as a public entertainment space, yet it continues to exist in a new form.

In contrast, the cinema on Bourke Street, now a Chinese cinema, illustrates how these spaces can survive by adapting to different cultural contexts. Similarly, the two cinemas repurposed into theatres hosting popular plays such as ‘Wicked’ or ‘Moulin Rouge’ demonstrate cinema’s ability to evolve and remain relevant by embracing different forms of entertainment. These examples highlight the ghostly presence of cinema, where its past lives linger in the architecture and cultural memory of the city.

Reflecting on these excursions, I was particularly struck by the resilience and adaptability of cinema. The notion of “phantom cinema” became more tangible, as I saw firsthand how cinema spaces and the medium itself continually transform. The concept of multiple deaths and rebirths, as discussed by Jacobson, Paredes, and Hanson, resonated deeply with these observations. Cinema, much like the ancient phoenix, repeatedly rises from its ashes, finding new ways to captivate audiences and leave enduring traces.

In conclusion, the excursions to ACMI and the “lost” cinemas of Melbourne enriched my understanding of “phantom cinema” and the enduring legacy of the medium. They illustrated how cinema, despite facing numerous threats, continues to reinvent itself, leaving behind both phantom-like  and physical traces that shape our cultural landscape. These field trips underscored the dynamic nature of cinema and its ability to adapt and survive through changing times and technologies.

Reference:
Jacobson, B., Paredes, V. & Hanson, C. 2007, ‘Deaths of Cinema: Introduction’, *Spectator*, no. 27, pp. 5-8.

My formative encounter with cinema took place during my media class in Year 11, where I watched “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.” This experience profoundly changed my perspective on movies, opening my eyes to the limitless possibilities of what films can be. Until that point, my understanding of cinema was limited to mainstream blockbusters and animated films, but “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” introduced me to a new realm of storytelling, character development, and cinematic techniques.

Directed by John Hughes, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” is a 1980s teen comedy that follows the charismatic Ferris Bueller as he skips school for a day of adventures in Chicago. What struck me most about the film was its narrative style, particularly Ferris’s frequent breaking of the fourth wall to address the audience directly. This technique made me feel like I was part of the story, blurring the line between spectator and participant. It was a declaration that cinema could be so interactive and engaging.

The film’s portrayal of youth, rebellion, and the desire for freedom resonated deeply with me. As a teenager navigating the complexities of high school, I found Ferris’s carefree attitude and his ability to outsmart authority figures both inspiring and liberating. The movie challenged me to think about the societal norms and expectations that govern our lives and to consider the importance of carving out moments of joy and spontaneity amidst the routine. Moreover, the characters in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” were 3D and relatable. Ferris, with his charm and wit, represented the idealised version of teenage rebellion, while his best friend Cameron exemplified the internal struggles many of us face. Cameron’s journey from a timid, anxiety-ridden teenager to someone who stands up for himself was particularly impactful. It highlighted the power of friendship and the importance of personal growth.

In Luke McKernan’s “First Encounters,” the short pieces delves into the various ways people experience and interpret their initial encounters with cinema. My experience with “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” aligns with many of the themes explored in McKernan’s work, particularly the idea that our first significant cinematic experiences shape our understanding and appreciation of the medium. The film’s innovative techniques, relatable characters, and thought-provoking themes made it a crucial moment in my filmgoing life. This encounter also influenced my academic and personal pursuits. It ignited a passion for films and the creation of the said medium, leading me to explore other works by similar directors. I began to appreciate the artistry involved in filmmaking, from screenwriting and directing to acting and cinematography. This newfound appreciation extended beyond the classroom, as I started attending more film screenings and participating in discussions about movies with my friends and mentors analytically.

In conclusion, my encounter with “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” during my Year 11 media class was a defining moment in my cinematic journey. It expanded my horizons and deepened my appreciation for the medium, leaving an indelible mark on my understanding of what films can achieve. This experience underscores the importance of those first encounters with cinema, as they often set the stage for a lifelong relationship with the movies. And quite like the film ‘The Fabelmans’ by Steven Spielberg, it inspired an everlasting want to recreate or relive those formative moments on screen again.

Reference: 

McKernan, L (ed.) 2022, ‘First encounters’, in *Picturegoers: A critical anthology of eyewitness experiences*, Exeter University Press, Exeter, pp. 12-35.