Sunday, January 26, 2014

Faces - Analytical Essay


Kevin Smock
26 January 2014
            John Cassavetes is credited as the first independent filmmaker but above that title he is also one of the first American filmmakers to neglect filmic convention and narrative formulas on purpose. Upon watching a few of his films, it is clear to see what he is interested in exploring: Human relationships on a level of stark realism that most filmmakers wouldn’t dare to delve into, or be able to achieve. One of the most admirable things about Cassavetes is the fact that he breaks all these rules, rules that audiences have adapted to consciously or subconsciously, yet he’s still able to portray ideas with great clarity. Even though he has set out to do away with such accepted principles, his fourth film released in 1968, titled Faces, while clearly unassimilated with the mainstream, employs a number of great tactics while still holding true to his intended realist style. Whether these are decisions Cassavetes had thought out or they’re just apart of his intuitive workflow, they really stuck out and made for a great viewing experience.

            Unlike some of other Cassavetes films, it was possible to identify plot points throughout Faces. The story concerns a troubled relationship between Richard and his wife Maria; they’re a middle-aged couple living in L.A. during the 60s. We know right off the bat that they don’t have a stable relationship because the first time we see them together the scene that precedes it is of Richard and his friend at a high-class prostitute’s home, Jeannie. The moments of Richard and Maria talking are hardly ever serious: they joke, they laugh, they’re sarcastic, they smoke, they drink, etc. In true Cassavetes fashion, once the laughing and the dancing is over, things get serious. Throughout the long, sporadic conversation between Richard and Maria they hit sort of a rough patch. They part ways for a moment and Richard goes off to play pool. During this time, we witness a moment of subjectivity on Richard’s end, where he’s reflecting on past times with Jeannie when they’re in bed making jokes together. He walks away from the billiards table and approaches Maria who is mixing drinks into two cups. Richard interrupts this event by requesting a divorce. The performances during this scene are spot on, so true to life that it can be scary. This is where ACT II begins and it is signaled by a shot that will serve as a motif and occur again. Initially serving up two drinks, upon the divorce request Maria spitefully dumps out the contents of one of the cups, signaling a sense of disunity among the couple.


             The first half of the second act is where, among others things, Richard and Jeannie’s relationship buds. Richard interrupts an encounter between Jeannie and her co-worker, Stella, and two men. Throughout this long, wild scene, Richard proves to be a gentleman who really does have feelings for Jeannie when he is with her. We never really see this side of Richard unless he is with the young Jeannie.

The midpoint of the film occurs when Richard is preparing to spend the night at Jeannie’s / when Maria goes out to a club full of young people with her friends. At this point, Richard has reached a new point emotionally and now the narrative sets its sights on Maria. Her and her friends go out to a nightclub where they meet a young man who they bring back to Maria’s house. All the older women drool over this younger man because they make them feel young again. As the night draws to an interesting end, the young man and Maria end up spending the night together and they have sex.

The climax occurs the morning after Maria and the young man’s affair. Feeling so miserable about herself, Maria attempts to kill herself by overdosing on sleeping pills. However, the young man ends up saving her life and nursing her back to health. Meanwhile, Richard is enjoying his morning with his beloved Jeannie. He mixes a drink for the two of them, which mirrors the shot that sends the film into Act II. This time though, the motif has developed into expressing a sense of unity between Richard and Jeannie, completely opposing the first time it was used with Richard and Maria, which suggests the separation of the couple.





While Maria recovers on the couch, she converses with the young man who has saved her life. In the middle of this, Richard arrives back home only to spot the young man escaping out the window.

The film’s raw resolution is the fact that Richard and Maria, after experiencing such intimacy with these other people, are going to fall back into their unhealthy relationship and continue to live that way. This is even communicated visually: Richard sits on the bottom of the steps and smokes while Maria sits at the top of the steps and smokes. They’re seated in nearly the exact same way and back to back shots of them coughing up a lung is shown to us. This signals their synchronization back into their confusing relationship.



Thematically, this film covers a lot of ground. As always, Cassavetes confronts subjects such as love, true confusing love that real people experience every single day. Another one of Cassavetes’s favorite topics is relationships, whether it is among spouses, friends, or strangers. What I find to be most pertinent in this film though is people escaping from their everyday realities, which in the end are inescapable. There are many instances throughout the film that show older people (around an appropriate mid-life crisis age) forgetting about their troubles and rejuvenating themselves in the presence of a younger person. Both Richard and Maria spend time with younger people of the opposite sex, and we see them cut loose in a way that they never show to any other character in the film. The strongest scene, shot in tight close ups, that embodies this theme is when Maria’s oldest friend is highly intoxicated and vents to her about that fact that she will one day die and a preacher will preach over her body to a room full of spectators. This morbid conversation comes to an abrupt end when the young man re-enters the room. Shown in a wide shot, the older lady runs to Jim and entirely dismisses what she was just discussing with Maria.



An instance like this occurs much earlier in the film when Richard and his friend are first seen with Jeannie. The good times they’re having cause them to reflect back on their college days when they didn’t have any worries.



            The editing in this film is comparative to no other movie in America during the 1960s. Cassavetes intentionally disobeys the 180-degree rule, cares little for spatial relationships, and lets eye-lines wander wherever they desire. The interesting thing about this renegade filmmaking is that it perfectly complements the chaotic mentality of the characters in the film. Aside from his editing style, which Cassavetes was well aware he was doing, I found a few particular edits that I’m reluctant to discuss only because I think Cassavetes cared very little for edits such as the ones I’m about to discuss and I can’t confidently say that these are motivated choices by the director. Nonetheless though, I noticed them and believe that they are extremely relevant to the content and complement the story at hand.

            The midpoint of the film (discussed earlier in this essay) shows Richard settling in with Jeannie in an incredibly tranquil and intimate environment -vs- Maria and her friends entering the hectic nightclub where they appear out of place. This juxtaposition is exploited via the cutting and the sound design. The slow, romantic music of the bedroom -vs- the rapid, thumping of the nightclub music.


-VS-



            The climax of the film (discussed earlier in this essay) shows Richard’s lovely morning with Jeannie -vs- Maria’s half-dead regretful morning with the young man. Again, it’s the pure juxtaposition of these two moments that create the effect of shock and show the opposition between the Richard and Maria.

 -VS- 

            The character parallels between Richard and Maria further strengthen the structure of the film. For instance, they both go out to a club and meet a younger person they spend special time with. Also, while each character is in the club we’re shown an optical point of view from each of them. If my memory serves me correctly, this is the only time we’re given optical subjectivity.

            Faces is a wonderful piece of film that I greatly admire. Watching a John Cassavetes film is always a unique experience and one never knows what to expect, a great alternative to many Hollywood films that follow a strict paradigmatic structure and are slaves to continuity cutting. Cassavetes will be remembered as the first American independent filmmaker as well as the first American rule breaker.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Her – Analytical Essay


Kevin Smock
13 January 2014

     After years of music and skate videos, Spike Jonze finally plunged into the world of narrative film. With releases like Being John Malkovich and Where The Wild Things Are, he certainly managed to get his foot in the door. His current release is the first movie that he has solely written and directed. Her is a film about transcending from reclusive tendencies into a lifestyle of companionship; it is a film not of the physical senses, but of pure emotional ones. It must be viewed in a connotative fashion though. We must not see Samantha’s character exactly how she is presented to us. She represents a few ideas, I think, such as: Understanding, growth, and even a warning.
     Set in the near future, the story concerns a lonely man named Theodore who is suffering from an unsettling divorce. His only (in)activities include attending work, where he composes handwritten love letters, and playing video games. Essentially, all of Act I shows Theodore with a broken heart. All expositional information given to us fills us in on his past marital status via flashback and dialogue. The break into Act II occurs when Theodore installs a new operating system on his computer. From there (and keep in mind that this is the near future) a relationship begins to ignite between the two. This is the first time we see Theodore really connect with anybody on a serious level. After a blind date goes terribly wrong with a woman Theodore’s friend, Amy, set him up with, we reach the midpoint of the film: Theodore and Samantha copulate. This moment defines for us the love Theodore and Samantha have for one another; there is no denying it. The unthinkable has been achieved. Things are going marvelously for Theodore, he even officially divorces his ex-wife. However, the story shifts gears when Samantha introduces Theodore to another operating system that she is friendly with. And then eventually, at the climax, Theodore is informed that he is not the only one who Samantha speaks with, and in fact, he is not the only one she is in love with. A relationship Theodore thought to be personal and exclusive is in fact shared among many people who own the same software. Theodore is crushed. The resolution of the film marvelously plays with story order and anticipation. We see Theodore writing a letter (a popular motif throughout the film expressing Theodore’s state of mind) to his wife Catherine expressing his love for her and informing her “he will always be apart of her.” Intercut with the images and voice-over of Theodore writing, we flash forward to Theodore going to Amy’s apartment and asking her to go to the roof with him. The hybrid of the voice-over of the letter and the imagery of Theodore on the roof raises a question: Will he kill himself?! This leaves anticipation at an all time high. Appropriately enough, Theodore does not jump, far from it. The last image shows Theodore and Amy, two characters sharing many parallels that revolve around rejection and loneliness, overlooking Los Angeles. Suddenly, Amy puts her head on Theodore’s shoulder and the film ends. At this moment, Theodore’s character arc is completed. He goes from A (alone) to, after many ups and downs, B (companionship with Amy, who he relates to throughout the whole narrative).
     Aside from the script, cinematography and production design lends a helping hand in conveying the story. The opening sequence of the film tends to leave Theodore in wide shots where him and his vibrant red shirt stick out like a sore thumb. The contrast and isolation tacked on Theodore drives home the fact that he’s clearly at odds with the world around him.

 Speaking of the unique shade of red he wears, the audience is never really revealed to any other matching hue like it until we finally meet Samantha… The color red presents a sort of parallel that visually suggests the connection the two share.

Throughout the subjective flashbacks we’re revealed to throughout Act I that inform us about Theodore’s past marriage, the style in which they’re shot in completely contrast and collide with the dark, contrasting imagery of the present tense of the film… a principle Vsevolod Pudovkin would greatly appreciate.

     The film also employs a number of witty edits that further strengthen the film. In one instance, when Theodore is having phone sex that takes a turn for the worst, we start off with an intimate close up of Theodore until the woman on the other end starts to get freaky. We’re given a rather jarring cut, which deliberately violates the thirty-degree rule, to a wider shot where Theodore’s face expresses a feeling of total confusion and slight disgust. This is contrapuntal to the erotic sounds on the other end of the phone call creating great comedy. At the midpoint of the movie, when Theodore and Samantha have sex, what’s shown on the screen is complete darkness accompanied by passionate sounds of ecstasy. While skeptical about this decision at first, I soon realized the beauty and motivation of it. The relationship that Theodore and Samantha have is not based off touch or sight, but by sound and pure emotional connections. So even though the meaningless phone sex is presented to us visually, it still does not compare to the passionate sex with Samantha that we aren’t even visually exposed to. After sex with the human surrogate, which doesn’t turn out for the best, Theodore is seen outside sitting on the curb after sending the girl on her way in a taxicab. Intercut with a shot of Theodore reflecting on his relationship, we’re shown a girl walking down the road away from that camera and a shot of steam pouring out from a manhole. The synthesis of these images suggests a concept of distance and anger, which is later explicitly stated by Samantha in a conversation with Theodore.
     Aside from the marvelous cinematic techniques employed throughout the film, Her also speaks volumes on an ideological level. In this day and age where many seem to be fully immersed into their smart phones and tablets, it’s beneficial for a reality check to be served up from time to time. While I conclude that Samantha ultimately breaks Theodore out of his shell as a character, we must not forget that she also breaks his heart when she states that she is revamping the operating system with a fellow operating system and that she also has relationships with other operating system users. This emotionally damaging event for Theodore can be viewed as a sociological metaphor. While technological advancements in the film leave Theodore alone (temporarily), technological advances in society could potentially render the obsolescence of personal relationships, therefore leaving everyone alone. While the latter statement can seem a bit exaggerated, it still serves as a valuable warning of some sort and should be considered by many living in this rapidly expanding digital era.

* I do not claim to own the right to any of the still images displayed within this post.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

The Wolf of Wall Street - Analytical Essay


Kevin Smock
29 December 2013

            Martin Scorsese’s most recent film, The Wolf of Wall Street, is reminiscent of the fan favorite release Goodfellas in terms of its narration and structure. And, to make things clear, the term “narration” in this sense refers to the way in which information is distributed, not in the sense that the film has a narrator (even though both of these films do). While we’re on the topic of the narrator though, the big difference between the narrator in The Wolf and Goodfellas is the fact that we, as an audience, physically see DiCaprio talking to the camera. Scorsese puts to use what’s called “breaking the fourth wall”: making a character within the diegesis of the film aware that they are being watched by an outsider and therefore letting the character communicate directly with them. Essentially, during the moments that we witness DiCaprio speak directly into the camera, he is non-diegetic: he’s acknowledged by the audience but not by any other being within the diegetic, story world of the film. This attribute of the film will further demonstrate another component of the film, which is the fact that the whole story is simply a retrospective account of events via what Jordan knows and has experienced. An example of this within the film is when Jordan drives home from the country club to his home. He is shown to us cautiously driving home and making it there safe and sound. However, when the cops arrive at the house moments later, Jordan’s voice over narration kicks in and tells us that the way his drive home was just expressed to us moments ago was not the reality of the drive home at all, in fact. Then, we’re shown Jordan’s white sports car swerving through the roads and banging into everything on the way. This moment of subjectivity, which so wittily plays with the audience’s expectations, is in fact what the whole film is, just a guy telling us about what happened to him. For all we know, Jordan can be making the whole thing up, similar to the five flashbacks of Welles’s Citizen Kane. They’re completely subjective and bound to the memory of the five characters investigated by Thompson.

            The film opens up in the heat of it of it all. We’re given a wild montage of Jordan’s endeavors as a Wall Street big shot. However, we backtrack from that moment big time. We jump back in time to Jordan’s first day on Wall Street and then, in true Aristotlian fashion, a huge turn of the wheel is thrown at us: Wall Street essentially crashes. Jordan is now out of a job. Personally, I couldn’t of seen this coming from two feet away. I figured we were going to watch a small man on the job work is way up, and we actually do, but not in the way which I initially expected. Jordan builds his company, Stratton Oakmont, from the ground up... and I mean from the GROUND. He has a bunch of hometown bums working for his stock agency that he runs out of a car garage with some dude he met at a diner.

            The beginning of Act II begins with Jordan being able to legitimately utilize his business and open it publically in New York City. After a series of ups and downs and marrying his new wife, Naomi, the midpoint (central conflict) occurs when Jordan is forced to move the accounts of his illegal business to Switzerland, with Rugrat’s college friend, to ensure the safety of the business from the FBI. The climax, which I must say is questionable to me since so many game changing events occurred around the break into Act III, occurs when Donnie blows the cover of the money swap in the Long Island strip mall with Brad. I’ve boiled this moment down to being the climax because this is what causes the increase in emotionally negative scenes for Jordan to occur. Also, it’s because it has a lot to do with the welfare of Jordan’s business (along with all the other crucial plot points), which is able to produce his materialistic, addictive, and sexual needs which Jordan strives off of.

            Speaking of Donnie... He has much to do with the narrative development of the film. He is the reason Jordan is able to build the business he owns and operates (break into Act II); He is the reason the business gets caught (climax). In Christopher Vogler’s book, The Writer’s Journey, the character archetypes developed by psychologist Carl Yung are discussed in great detail. One of them includes “The Shapeshifter”: Basically, a character that is unpredictable and is responsible for many plot reversals. This archetype is strongly presented in another one of Scrosese’s films, Casino, where Sharon Stone’s character creates additional turmoil between Deniro's character and Pesci’s character.

            The film’s title, The Wolf of Wall Street, certainly connects to the context of the film, and not just in the sense that Jordan is a Wall Street big shot, it is much more subtle than that. Animals in general serve as an important motif throughout the whole film.

For instance, the film opens with what is, but we are not fully aware of at the time, a commercial for Jordan’s company. In the commercial there is a lion walking around the office which is probably meant to represent some sort of noble, powerful merit that this business exemplifies. However, this image is directly juxtaposed with a scene of the office members playing this sort of bizarre game with midgets as darts. Honestly, it is extremely difficult to describe what is occurring at that point, but what’s important is that the office members are acting like animals. Not noble animals though, wild animals. The lion is a metaphor for the mens' behavior. Also, the lion being tranquil also symbolizes a sort of façade that the men have to put on from time to time throughout the film. Such as when Jordan’s dad, who has a say in the financial matter of the business, is around or when some sort of investigator is around. Also, outside of work the men constantly have to conceal their barbarian like behavior of drug use and prostitutes.

            Another important use of the animal motif is that when we see Jean from Switzerland he is framed with a fish tank behind him. Then, later in the film, right before the company is preparing to sell Steve Madden stock, one of the employees is cleaning out his fish bowl. Donnie, in a fit of rage, swallows the man’s fish and then fires him. Well, this seems to really come back to haunt him during the climax when Rugrat blows the Swiss bank account cover. It can be said that Jean, who is constantly framed with fish, plays a part in “swallowing” the company.

            Also, after Jordan’s speech about sticking with Stratton Oakmont (even though the company being in his name will lead to great misfortune) the whole company explodes in celebration. Jordan ends up igniting an old chant that Mark Hanna taught him on his first day on Wall Street. While this moment also serves as a brilliant callback to Act I, it also gives the people in the office an opportunity to act like savages and in fact release animal noises. A vivid image that sticks with me is Donnie’s beastly bird call into the microphone.

            Another motif used in the film is a sound motif which occurs between Jordan and the only two major foreign characters in the film: Aunt Emma from London and Jean from Switzerland. During Jordan’s dialogue with Jean, we’re given subjective (or internal), diegetic sound of Jordan’s thoughts and Jean’s thoughts, which seem to be in agreement with one another but in a very harsh and sarcastic manner. During Jordan’s dialogue with Aunt Emma, he questions whether Aunt Emma is coming onto him or not. Perhaps this motif is only implemented with foreign characters to convey Jordan’s uncertainty with outside sources. After all, Jordan is an unflattering portrait of the American businessman.

            Scorsese puts to use a wonderful visual metaphor that conveys the importance of drugs to Jordan. After Jordan and Donnie, both overdosed on a highly paralyzing drug, have just had a blowout fight concerning the business, Donnie decides to eat some food but soon begins choking. Naomi is unable to help Donnie and begs Jordan to snap out of his comatose state and do something. Donnie looks up to the television set and notices that Popeye The Sailor Man is on. From that point, shots of Popeye consuming his spinach are intercut with Jordan sniffing his cocaine. This draws a mean parallel: Jordan is more likely to deal with something in a more level headed manner if he is under the influence of cocaine, just like when Popeye has his spinach. This moment is comical, witty, conceptual, and most of all, accurate.

            Another wonderful moment in the film occurs when Jordan is wired in the office. He sparks up a dialogue with Donnie while writing on a sheet of paper a warning not to admit any wrongdoings. What makes this moment so special is how true the rest of the scene is to the craft of visual storytelling. Donnie’s upset reaction at Jordan giving in to the demands of the law cannot be made clear by dialogue, only Jonah Hill’s performance, Thelma Schoonmaker’s emphasis via the edits, and some subtext. A close up of Donnie covering up the yellow sheet of paper is shown, and then is later shown during a recognition scene where the police arrest Jordan. No explanation of the arrest is needed, all the explanation Jordan needs is summed up in the presence of the yellow piece of paper. That paper simply means, “Donnie snitched on you.” Again, another great tribute to visual storytelling.

            The theme of this film is not simple nor singular. However, to me the most important theme is really tied up in the end when two images are juxtaposed: Jordan riding into jail by bus –vs- Agent Denham riding a dirty subway train home from work surrounded by strange folk. Both these images were discussed during the midpoint of the film, when Jordan and Denham met on the yacht. What it all boils down to is this: In a jungle-like world, no beast ever really turns out on top.

Out of the Furnace - Analytical Essay


Kevin Smock
7 December 2013


     Survival, unavoidable hardships, and most of all, revenge. Scott Cooper’s latest film, Out of the Furnace, certainly comprises all of these themes.

     The narrative structure of the film is quite basic aside from the ongoing question I had throughout the lengthy first act: Who is the protagonist? We’re forced to identify more with Russell since he’s a more likable guy, performing charitable acts towards his brother like paying the local bookie at the bar some of what Rodney owes as well as treating his girlfriend with true love during an early morning. The only reason he even leaves her side is to go to work so he can provide for her. The questioning really comes in when Russell is sent to jail. He gets in an automobile accident while a little buzzed and ends up killing a child. It really wasn’t his fault though, the other car pulled onto a main road blindly. This scenario falls under the unavoidable hardships theme

Anyway, it’s pretty difficult to cross the threshold into act two when you’re locked up. The second act of the film is really set into motion by Rodney when he requests to go up to the Ramapo Mountains to part take in the fight club, the money’s better. The folk up in the Ramapo’s are a different sort of breed though, constantly referred to as the “inbreds.” We’re actually introduced to the leader of the head inbred in charge before any other character in the film. Harlan DeGroat is at a drive in movie with his date. He ends up losing his temper which result in him choking his date with a hot dog and viciously injuring a man who intervenes in the choking situation.

The first dramatic complication occurs when Russell actually has an encounter with Harlan in the sketchy, gambling office of the PA bar. It’s completely unrelated to the conflict that eventually boils down in the film, but as an audience we figure out that these will be the two opposing forces.

     The midpoint of the film occurs when Rodney and the head bookie are killed by the inbreds because the bookie still owes some money. Luckily for Russell and everyone back home, the head bookie was calling another bookie, so it was all recorded to his voicemail. Now, everyone has a direction to point their finger towards.

     The climax of the film boils down to Russell –vs- Harlan as opposed to Rondey –vs- Harlan. The climax begins the same way the initial complication occurs, in the backroom of the PA bar. This is a nice way to bring the conflict full circle. Russell successfully guns down Harlan in an immensely suspenseful scene in which Russell has planned out by anonymously calling Harlan as the bookie who’s taking over the head bookie’s account and states that if he wants the money he must come to PA. So, Russell is expecting Harlan and company to arrive. The narration is unrestricted at this point in the sense that was we know Russell’s intention to kill Harlan, but he has no clue. The rhythm in which this scene is cut is completely gripping.

     The third act of the film is only really composed of one shot, which includes Russell sitting a table against a window with a vista of the Rust Belt of Pennsylvania. This shot is reminiscent of the shot in the first act where Russell is in bed with Lena. Russell has come a long way since then and although he may have experienced a lot of emotional lows, he has still sought revenge for his brother. We’re not sure of Russell’s destiny and his future is left open ended.

     The strength of this film lies in its conceptual editing and all the parallels. The first parallel we’re exposed to is representative of the protagonist and the antagonist. Our first view of Harlan shows him sadistically choking his date with a hot dog. One of our first views of Russell is him speaking with his girlfriend about going to work. He states something along the lines of, “I gotta bring home the bacon to fatten you up.” This connection of food with a significant other and opposing the fashion in which they’re employed shows us the compassion that Russell possesses and the animosity in which Harlan contains.

     Another parallel, and one that also helps to complete Russell’s character arc, occurs at the midpoint and the climax. During the midpoint of the film, scenes of Russell and his uncle hunting are crosscut with Rodney and the bookie in the Ramapo Mountains. The events are completely synonymous between the two lines of action and very delicately crafted in the cutting room. The cutting is completely symmetrical. The preparation for the hunting is shown, then Rodney’s preparation for the fight is shown; Russell and his uncle walking around the woods, then Rodney walking out into the ring; etc. The symmetrical rhythm is broken when Russell isn’t capable of going for the kill of the deer. This moment is really emphasized and sticks with us. He lets the deer go, and eventually his uncle is left to kill the deer. On the other line of action, with Rodney, he is not let go. He’s forced to throw the fight for gambling reasons, leaving him beat beyond belief. Then, it seems the bookie and Harlan haven’t squared away their financial settlements. Harlan decides to cut his losses and catch Rodney and the bookie while they’re on their way out of town. He shoots both of them dead, which is executed with surprise, opposed to how the climax uses suspense. The crosscutting is effective in a number of ways. It establishes Russell as a peaceful man at this point in his life and also the dead deer at the end of the scene is a metaphor for Rodney’s death. Then, during the climax of the film, where dramatic irony leaves us anxious as can be, the same shot of Russell aiming his gun is shown. This time though, it’s not a deer he’s aiming at, it’s Harlan. This time though, he has the motivation to kill. He’s been through enough at this point, he has changed, and he wants revenge most of all.

     Out of the Furnace is also full of valuable motifs. Russell is attacked badly twice in the film. Once physically in jail where he is jumped by a few other inmates. After the fact, he sits in pain while the camera tracks back slowly. Digressing a bit, but after this occurs, Rodney arrives at the jail to inform him that his father has died. It could be that Cooper chose to substitute the explicit showing of the death by instead showing Russell being physically hurt and then only explicitly stating the death after the physical beat up. The fight serves as a metonymic device for the death. Getting back on track with the motif at hand. Once Russell gets out of jail, he attempts to rekindle his love with Lena. They meet up, and Lena breaks his heart by telling him she’s pregnant. This is something that Lena has always wanted with Russell, this was established in act one. Left heartbroken on the bridge, Russell sits and weeps as the camera tracks back slowly. Again, this mirrors the shot of him being physically beat up in jail.

     Fighting as a whole is an important aspect in the film and it’s hinted at very early on. Once Russell is done with work he heads over to a sort of betting hall that Rodney is hanging out at. They’re speaking with one another outside. This is where Russell offers him money initially but Rodney declines. The banter is light hearted and extremely brotherly and they throw fake punches towards one another while discussing money. Fights and money, even though at this time it’s mentioned in an innocent fashion, become an extremely important factor concerning the conflict of the film. This small scene foreshadows what will become a huge problem throughout the film.

     An auditory motif is also setup in the film, which I especially admire. The sound of train tracks are an indication of danger and change in the film, very similar to Ford Coppola’s The Godfather when Michael is out to dinner and assigned to kill the two men he is dining with from one of the rival families. Train sounds become extremely prominent when Rodney finally convinces one of the bookies to get him a fight in the Ramapo’s. Again, this scene essentially starts the second act of the film so developing a motif at that turning point was extremely witty of Cooper. The train sound is again heard when Russell finds out from the authorities that Harlan has possibly killed his brother. Then, the sound is present during the climax when Russell follows Harlan into the bar. To really wrap up the motif, Russell forces Harlan to walk on the train tracks while he has a gun wound in his leg. Although we don’t hear the train, we see the tracks.

     Each time Russell is heart broken by Lena (once upon finding out she’s seeing another man and then again once he finds out she’s pregnant) he does repairs around the house. This motif is also visible in a highly influential Japanese film titled Chungking Express by director Wong Kar-wai. Officer 633’s girlfriend leaves him, which causes him to fall into a state of depression. The girl from the restaurant he constantly visits continuously breaks into his apartment and rearranges it for the better. Reason being is if his surroundings are changed, then maybe he’ll do the same. Well, perhaps that’s the same idea Cooper was going for. Either way, it surely communicated the idea of moving on and progressing, which he does by seeking revenge for his brother.

     Out of the Furnace proved to be a thought out, intelligent film full of witty parallels and motifs. Many repetitions were established and as the story progressed, these repetitions varied to a degree that perfectly complemented the story as well as the characters' mindset.

Blue Jasmine - Analytical Essay


Kevin Smock
29 August 2013

     Any experienced screenwriter knows that the development of their script lies in their ability to write in a cause and effect fashion. By looking at writing in such a way, the audience is forced to participate actively in what’s occurring on screen. For instance, say there is a white collar, hardworking man who is on his way to a promotion once he finishes up a case study for his firm. Let us also say he has a wife who is well aware the case study is not the only thing he is doing at the office after hours. Given this knowledge, let’s go: The angry wife sneaks into her husband’s office late at night and deletes the case study off his computer (CAUSE). Now, being that we know the importance of this case study, we’re going to anticipate the husband’s reaction (EFFECT), we might even have some expectations regarding how the husband will respond. This is a convention. A man like Mr. Woody Allen, after being in the game for forty years or so, is bound to play around with it, and he certainly does in his latest film, Blue Jasmine.
     Instead of starting off the film with a cause, Mr. Allen kicks it off with an effect: Jasmine, our protagonist, is venting to an elderly woman about her ex-husband on an airplane. Shortly after, we learn Jasmine doesn’t even know the elderly woman she’s rambling to, which is really saying something about her instability early on. Given this effect, we learn about the CAUSE throughout the whole setup portion of the film via flashback. This is also a nice way of dealing with exposition/ back-story. Also, the way in which the flashbacks occur are very unique. For instance, the first time we see Jasmine walk into her sister’s home, Jasmine’s temporary home, we flashback to one of the many homes she used to live in. Her old home was much more luxurious than what she’s living in now, establishing a nice parallel. Theses instances occur many times throughout, giving us a nice sense of repetition.
     About midway through, the narrative stops depending so heavily on the flashbacks and the other conflicts start to really take off. Such as: Jasmine and Dwight’s relationship and Ginger’s loves life with Eddie that’s crossed by Al. In the end, Ginger ends up happy with Eddie while Jasmine ends up stuck in her xanax dependent ways. Although the ending is sad, it’s fair. Jasmine never learns her lesson. She blows off the struggle of work and school at her first opportunity to gold dig again. Jasmine has a shot at self-made happiness, she just isn’t willing to work for it.
     Since I’ve been doing nothing but praising the film, one would find it hard to believe that when the film first started I was prepared to resent it. I’m all for opening a film on a visual note for many reasons: It lets viewers perceive and take in what they need to in order to enter the world of the film. Also, opening on action is a great way to light a dramatic fuse, and then later scenes can offer any exposition. Furthermore, they’re great for raising expectations, something that concrete, spoken words cannot do as well. Although Mr. Allen opens with dialogue, he pays much respect to the art of editing. He compresses the time it takes from being in an airplane until the moment you leave the airport with your bags to just a few a few shots. Each shot is spatially different than the shot before and after, yet very specific to the whole airport process. In each shot Jasmine is rambling to a perfect stranger about her life. The snappy, rhythmic cuts convey to us that Jasmine has not shut up. Very fun; very comical.