Wednesday, May 11, 2011
A Short and Last Blog Post
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Soma
Monday, May 9, 2011
Hiroshima mon GODZILLAAAA!!!
The horrible sequel where Godzilla gets a son. So so bad.
The Ascent of Apocalypse Now
Track-o-rama
and John Woo's Hard Boiled
http://youtu.be/CTCymujrkMg
Blade Runner Is For Fake
Blade Runner/BTAS
Sunday, May 8, 2011
My final paper about the meaning of photographs
In the past taking a photo required a lot more work than just pressing a button. Old time cameras were more complicated than today’s digital ones. Since taking pictures has become so easy there have been an abundance of landscapes, celebrations, and memories captured than ever before. I believe that photography today has a different meaning than it did in the past. For example, certain Native American tribes and certain religions had, and some still have, negative views on having their picture taken. There is the belief that if you have your picture taken that it will “steal your soul” (Bobos). Even Sontag comments on how people felt about photographs stating “the less sharp is the distinction between images and real things; in primitive societies the thing and its image were simply two different, that is, physically distinct, manifestations of the same energy or spirit” (155).
In the films Last Year in Marienbad and Hiroshima Mon Amour, the use and meaning of photography is different than what earlier “primitive” societies thought about photography. In Last Year in Marienbad the main character Mr. X is trying to convince the woman that they had met the year before and had a love affair. In the middle of the film he shows her a picture that he says he took of her last year. In this instance the picture’s purpose was to evoke a memory, it was supposed to make her remember that she had met him and that he wasn’t lying. In the beginning of Hiroshima Mon Amour the woman is talking about how she saw the pictures and other artifacts of Hiroshima in a museum and says that she “saw everything”. The man however states, “You saw nothing in Hiroshima, nothing” insisting that just because she saw photographs doesn’t mean she knows what it was like. In this film the photographs in the museum were meant to show and try to evoke an understanding of what it was like in the aftermath of the bombing in Hiroshima. To the woman she felt like she could understand what it was like in Hiroshima after viewing all the things in the museum, especially the pictures. Sontag believes that pictures can elicit some kind of sympathy or empathy stating “the quality of feeling, including moral outrage, that people can muster in response to photographs of the oppressed, the exploited, the starving, and the massacred also depends on the degree of their familiarity with these images” (19). What she means is that it is possible to have certain feelings and understanding of what is going on in a picture if you are familiar with the images, but none the less you can still have feelings about a picture.
“A photograph passes for incontrovertible proof that a give thing happened. The picture may distort; but there is always a presumption that something exists or did exist, which is like what’s in the picture” (Sontag 5). In Sontag’s notion of photography in her booked titled “On Photography”, she illustrates what photography is and the progression of photography from what people thought about it in the beginning to, for the most part, what it meant to the generation of her time. She states that “photographs furnish evidence. Something we hear about, but doubt, seems proven when we’re shown a photograph of it” (5). By this she means that people believe things when they can see it. For humans it is hard for us to believe anything if it is not tangible so in a sense seeing something in a picture, which is tangible, evokes a belief in what is being seen. This is what I feel photography is about, being able to see things if you were not physically there to see it in person or also to remember something you once saw. Which ever it maybe, essentially you will believe it because it shows proof. This is only true though if the picture was not manipulated in some way.
Usually when you look at a picture that means something to you it will elicit emotions in you. “Memorializing the achievements of individuals considered as members of families (as well as of other groups) is the earliest popular use of photography” (Sontag 8). This explains that photography started out with wanting to capture special events to be remembered. When one looks back on a picture it evokes an emotion and memory of what was happening in that photo. An example would be photos of a wedding, every time the bride or groom looks back on those photos, their memory of that day comes to mind and all the emotions that were felt on that day will usually also return. Today photographs are not used merely for “memorializing achievements” they are for remembering everything from a baby’s birth to a vacation in the Bahamas. Sontag also explains the evolution of taking pictures for any situation was brought about when cameras were made to be easily used. Pictures became especially prominent in travel, to the traveler photos are “a way of certifying experience, taking photographs is also a way of refusing it, by limiting experience to a search for the photogenic, by converting experience into an image, a souvenir” (Sontag 9).
Since the invention of cameras photography has become a new art form but is also a highly used amateur practice. It has become so well known a practice in today’s time probably because the rate of change of the world is happening. There are “an untold number of forms of biological and social life are being destroyed in a brief span of time” (Sontag 16) and now there is a device to capture all that is disappearing. Most people want to capture certain moments, scenes in nature, and landmarks because they know they won’t always be there but if they have a picture of it, they will always have that memory.
I have now discussed the evolution of the meanings of photography starting with early native people thinking that taking a picture would steal someone’s soul, to then photos being used for family rituals and tourism, now in the present photographs are used for social reasons. One main example of social usage of photos is the social networking site Facebook. With more than 500 million people on Facebook and billions of pictures posted each month this is just one of the examples of the use of photos in a social context.
The snapshot camera was introduced in 1883 by Kodak and was a “portable medium that allowed users to record personal experiences” (Lee 266). Now with the “development of digital cameras, and their connection with communication networks, has transformed photo-taking conventions and expanded the range of photography’s social usage” (266) as described by Lee in his article Digital Cameras, Personal Photography and Reconfiguration of Spatial Experiences. His article goes on to explain that photo sharing used to be “home mode” which is the act of compiling pictures into a photo album and building a “mnemonic framework for oral presentation and collective conversation that brings one’s stories into the presentation of the album” (Lee 267). This allowed people to share their moments and experiences with only those close, intimate family and friends. These days it has become more common with the younger generation to post pictures on the Web for almost anyone to see. The digital age has transformed the “nature of photographic performance and its cultural significance” (Lee 267). Since digital cameras are so easy to use and the images are inexpensive to create, it has allowed people to capture every moment of their experience of life (Lee 276).
With social networking sites such as Facebook, Myspace, and blogs photographs are now meant as personal expressions. This is a major difference between earlier meanings of pictures and present day meanings. Research on photos being posted on Facebook and other social sites has began to emerge. Such research contains the relationships between personality and how many photos a person is “tagged” in on Facebook and also on the personality trait of narcissism and photo sharing. A big research topic in psychology on this subject is the fact that most people using Facebook are using it to “hype themselves up”, trying to make themselves look like they are a certain person rather than who they really are. Since a picture can say a thousand words, people use this to their advantage. For example if a person believes that partying makes them “cool” then they would most likely add photos of themselves at parties in hopes that people will think they are “cool” and will like them. Again this is only an example of what could be a possible mental process of a Facebook user. These are just a few examples of how people are trying to understand this new meaning of social usage of photos.
“Needing to have reality confirmed and experience enhanced by photographs is an aesthetic consumerism to which everyone is now addicted” (Sontag 24). Taking pictures has progressed as a form of remembering and personal expression. Today’s generation wants to be more individualized and social networking sites have made this possible by allowing one to make their mini home pages unique and expressive. Photographs have turned into a social usage that I believe will continue in the future as long as there are social networking sites. Photos are still used for capturing achieving moments, celebrations and tourism today but have also evolved into the meaning of personal expression.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Into the Darkness
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
The mask in La Noire de...
http://youtu.be/_MVJo4AkqWI
-Danielle Holub
The Crown Victoria Explanation
I wrote “The Crown Victoria,” as a psychological short story involving both the fantastic, the uncanny, and doubles. I originally planned on writing a screenplay, but I decided that a short story was a better medium, as I really wanted to get into the character’s head. I think with some work though, it could easily be adapted into a short film.
Todorov describes the fantastic situation. It is when we are in a world that is our own, but then some event occurs that is out of the ordinary and unexplained. This is the introduction of the men in the black suits in the short story, who appear and disappear throughout the story. He describes the fantastic as that period of uncertainty. In this story, the entirety fits into the fantastic, as you are never really certain whether the protagonist, Patton, is crazy or of this is really some sort of supernatural event. Whether it is the uncanny, where the event is explained in logical terms, or the marvelous, where the event is just accepted as supernatural, is really up to the reader.
I bring about the theme of doubles in several places. The first is in which you often see reflections throughout the story, starting with the windows of the car. Then following with the mirror at the bottom of the staircase, which Patton often sees himself, but sees his image deteriorating as he becomes more paranoid and stressed out. He also sees his reflection in his phone as he tries to call 911. Lastly, he views himself at his worst as he sees his own image in the reflection of the barred window in the mental hospital. Doubles are also apparent in the two men in the black suit, who are dressed exactly the same.
RSD
My Short Story: The Crown Victoria
I worked hard to be where I was. I started out as a carpenter, and over time, moved all the way up to superintendent of the company. I liked my job. Sure, it was day to day, but it was an income, a desk job, and respectable. Through my journey up the company, I gained a lot of self confidence, and saw the world as an open book full of possibilities. I never let those terrible news reports bother me, and always focused on the good side of things. Sure I wasn’t perfect, but I wasn’t going to let a few details from my past hold me back. That was until that day that black car showed up.
I had just gotten home from work when I noticed a black Crown Vic with windows tented even darker than the paint of the car. They were the type that were so reflective that you couldn’t see the inside at all, just an image with the neighborhood houses with the cloudy blue sky above. I glanced at the license plate and memorized the sequence in my head, just in case anything strange happened. It was a custom plate. G1LT-E4. I took a glance at it and thought out loud, “Hm, that’s weird, I wonder who’s car that is?” I went on with the day, quickly forgetting the strange crown victoria. I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, the blue mountains on the can told me it was, “as cold as the Rockies.” I flipped the TV on and scanned through the channels and found some cheesy police chase show. Just another relaxing Friday to myself, as always. “Ah, forgot to check the mail,” I remembered. The car was still there. As I walked out the house down to the street and to the mailbox, I thought I saw a light turn on and off in the Crown Vic. I thought, “Is someone in there… Am I being watched? Am I in trouble?” I quickly and inconspicuously tried to grab the mail, and walked as casually as I could into the house, trying to pretend like I hadn’t noticed anything unusual.
That car stayed there all day long. I peeked through the blinds at it from my bedroom window every ten to fifteen minutes. As I sat there, waiting and wondering, I began to look at my life over the last few years. Had I done anything wrong? Every instance of me doing anything questionable flashed through my head. There was the time I found $100 bill on the floor of a restaurant and I picked up and kept it for myself. Or the short span of time after high school that I sold drugs. Only marijuana and small time. But I made a good deal of money. It was easy money. And then I told myself it was just my paranoia getting to me. I thought, “How would anyone find out?” I thought, “and why would they care?” But then as my thoughts continued, I remembered something that I had forgotten. I had been drunk, and done something terrible. But I couldn’t distinguish whether it was part of some dream or something real. Why would this just come back to me at this moment, how could I have forgotten about it. The phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.
“Hello,” I said, panic in my voice.
“Hey bud, its Tyler,” he said. “What the hell’s wrong with you, you’re breathing really hard.”
“You know man, it’s probably nothing and this is going to sound crazy, but there’s this black car in front of my house and it’s just kind of odd you know. I even thought I saw a light go on and off.”
“Well I’m sure it’s nothing, your neighbor probably just got a new car,” Tyler said.
“Yeah you’re probably right,” I remarked, a little ashamed but comforted.
And then I heard a car engine turn on and peeked through the blinds of my front window, the black Crown Vic turned the corner and a feeling of relief moved through my body.
“Patton,” it was faint but grew louder. “Patton,” he said again, louder.
“Oh, sorry Tyler, I was watching the car. It drove away.”
“Ah see, you big wimp,” he laughed, “Well anyway, I was just calling to see if you wanted to come grill tomorrow night with us.”
“Yeah definitely,”
“Great well come over around 7:00, the kids and the wife are looking forward to seeing you.”
“Alright, have a good one Tyler.”
“You too bud, later,” Tyler said.
As the night went on, my comfort diminished as I continued to think about the black car. “What if they were monitoring my phone and knew I was on to them, or what if they saw me looking at them? I’m sure I saw someone in there.” After tossing and turning for a few hours I finally managed to fall asleep at 1 o’ clock.
I woke up to the sound of a car driving down the street. “Shit,” I thought, “is the car back?!” I looked out the window. Two men in suits stood outside the car, looking up at me.
RING RING RING! The doorbell rang. I stood stupefied for a moment. RING RING! “What do I do now?” I frantically questioned myself as my heart raced, beating at what felt like 500 beats a minute. “They know something, I don’t how, but they do!” I opened the door and slowly crept down the stairs, taking each step as quietly as I could, but the stairs seemed to crack and moan louder than ever before. Facing me at the bottom of the stairs was a mirror, and I saw myself, but I didn’t recognize myself. The person in the mirror was a Pale, large eyed, and rigid version of myself. I made it to the front door. I looked out the peephole. No one was there. “What the Hell?” I thought. “I’m really losing it.” I sat down in front of the door shaking, and fell asleep sitting with my back against the door.
I woke as if an explosion had gone off. The door was being pounded upon. “We just need to talk to you for a second Mr. Williams,” came a low voice but in a strangely calm manner.
“We’re investigators with the police and heard something about a friend of yours,” the right man quickly remarked afterward.
“Why the hell would you come here this time of night?” I asked, still sitting against the door.
“It’s 10:00 in the morning Mr. Williams.”
All of a sudden light crept into the window next to the door and filled the front room of my house. “It wasn’t just…. That just happened!” I stood up and looked out the peephole again. There were two men standing there, both in black suits.
“We don’t know what you’re talking about Mr. Williams. We’ve just heard a few rumors that we hoped you could clear up. If you could just let us in and we can talk it over, and clear up this mess,” the man on the left stated.
“What the hell? I haven’t done anything!”
“Well then you have nothing to worry about. But if you don’t let us in, we will have to use force, and that will cause a huge scene. You don’t want that, do you Mr. Williams?”
I was dialing 911 before he was finished speaking and quickly walked into the other room.
“Hello, emergency service, how can I help you,” A soothing woman’s voice came over the small speaker in the phone.
“There’s two men here at my house that claim to be investigators, my address is 302 Longflower. Should they be here? Something is weird here, I think these guys might be trying to rob me or something.”
“Yes sir, a police officer is on his way to check out the situation,” the woman responded.
I stumbled over to the door and looked out the peephole, the two men and the black Crown Vic were already gone. I waited in the chair by the front door for the police to show up, it only took about 10 minutes. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK, I opened to door.
“Hello sir, we got a call about some suspicious characters,” said the officer, a big man with short dark hair and a tiny mustache. He looked exactly like any cop you would expect to see in a crime drama.
“Yes officer, two men showed up in a black Crown Victoria, they were sitting outside my house all day and knocked on my door about twenty minutes ago, claiming to be part of some sort of investigation. I refused to let them in. I called you and then they took off.”
“Ah,” the officer replied, “probably just some guys trying to rob you, they’ll post out and watch the habits of a house pretty often. They’re definitely not with us though. We’ll be on the lookout for these guys, thanks for your information.”
“Thank you, but I’m worried there might be something more to this,” I stated.
“Probably just being a little paranoid sir, just give us a call if you see anything else.”
“Ah ok,” I said, frightened. “Thank you officer, have a good night.”
I watched him drive away from the front window, and stood there watching for about five minutes looking through my screen door, and all of a sudden, I saw the Crown Vic pulling down the street, followed by two Escalades. “Oh my God, they’re back.” I slammed the door shut and locked both deadbolts. I tried to make a call on my cell phone it was completely dead. I only saw a black screen with a reflection of myself, looking worse than I could ever imagine. The next part is real hazy in my memory. I don’t even know how many men were there this time, but the two original men led them.
“We gave you a chance to comply Mr. Williams. We know everything.” The man on the left said coldly. “We’re going to have to use force now.”
“Who are you? What did I do?” I yelled as my body tensed up and I could feel the adrenaline rush through my body. I couldn’t even move. The rest is like a series of still images in my mind. The door was busted in. 5 men came in and grabbed me and restrained me, one frame at a time. They held me down and I thrashed wildly. The man that was on the left pulled out a huge syringe and injected it into my thigh. I screamed out but there was no sound. I must have passed out or there was something in there to screw up my memory, because I woke in my bed. I looked at the clock in my room, flashing showing 3 o clock am. The power must have gone out.
I woke up with a startle, and looked at my leg, there was no hole or bruise or anything. I walked down the stairs and again at the mirror at the bottom. I looked normal again besides the idea of being a little sleepy. I looked at the door. No sign of a struggle. But when I looked out that same window, I saw that same Crown Victoria. All hopes of it being a bad dream were gone. The reflective window rolled down, and the driver, the man who was on the left, gestured with his hands and lip signing “I’m watching you.” The car drove off. “What do I do now?” I asked myself as began to panic.
I drove to the hospital and told them someone had injected something in my leg, they told me there was nothing there. I insisted. I couldn’t take it anymore. I went straight to the police station and told them everything. I told them how I had hit that guy when I was driving home drunk 9 years ago. How I stopped to look at him, but was too scared of the consequences. I told them how I drove away, and managed to forget about it for these 9 years, but I couldn’t suppress the memory in anymore. Someone’s body had been found 9 years ago, a 15 year old girl named Theresa, who had run away from home. It was on the highway right by my house. I confessed to the crime and went to court. I couldn’t stand to be terrorized by the men in the black suits and that freaking. They ruled me not stable enough to stay in jail so they sent me here. And that’s the whole story Dr. Terry.
“Mr. Williams, you have a problem, but it’s not your fault, you suffer from a disease of the mind. You need to realize you have a problem.” Dr. Terry said calmly. He was a strange man with a monotone voice, grey hair, and glasses. He was exactly the way you would picture a shrink.
“I can’t believe this!” Patton yelled. “There is something crazy going on here, but its not me! I can’t just make stuff up like this, can I?! It’s all real, it’s all real. I don’t know what these guys wanted with me but they injected me with something and I’m either some sort of weird experiment or their tracking me or something but I know I’m not making this up!”
“Mr. Williams, you need to calm down.” He said as he pressed a button on his desk. Two men came in and grabbed Patton, injected him with a shot and took him to a small cell like room.
He woke up.
“I can’t believe this,” he said to himself as he got out of the tiny cot. He looked out the tiny window with the black iron bars. A reflection of himself stared back at him in the mirror. He didn’t recognize himself. His eyelids drooped down, he had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and his skin paler than ever. The bars behind interacted with the reflection to give him a clear picture of his captivity. “At least I’m safe here,” he thought as he followed the road away from the mental asylum with his eyes. But as he followed the road his eyes got bigger and a panic-stricken look came across his face, reflected back at him through the window. A black Crown Victoria was driving up the road, towards the asylum. The license plate read G1LT-E4.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Final Projects!
Monday, May 2, 2011
The Whole Shootin Match
Additionally the film is incredibly fluid and a perfect example of independent filmmaking at that time. It's not a Hollywood production-- it was shot in Texas, and the camera is often handheld. A lot of the actors' performances are also improvisational at many points, and Sonny Carl Davis pointed out that the director had a series of notes and that the actors would rehearse to the vision of the director.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Racism in Heart of Darkness?
Friday, April 29, 2011
Heart of Darkness- Congo River
I thought I would put in some pictures of the river.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEUjr7G0KNpSOseeZBiH0K3H_hum-k8feNS23pNSM0JvDTw8n83St4sfD90nj5Sn1CHn2VoqCqZzv30u3ukL8mvWjODGT-dY5VdH4uC6rcD-j2zAOH8HeY2xjHsMQHRpPhfBKL-nnFJDN1/s1600/congo-river-nat-geo.jpg
http://www.wackyowl.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/congo-river.jpg
http://inlinethumb04.webshots.com/43011/2344088890102973086S425x425Q85.jpg
What do you think? Did you think of the Garden of Eden when you first read the description of the river? Do you believe Marlow is voyaging back to Eden? But also, in what ways do you see this as evil?
I think it's interesting that the Conrad describes the river as snake-like and evil. Much like in the Garden of Eden, with the story of Adam and EVe, the snake represents evil. Could Marlow himself represent Adam being tempted by the "snake" and also going mad as the river continues? Or do you have a different version of this idea?
Just something to think about.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Colonialism and Ethnocentricism in Heart of Darkness
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Apocolypse Now
Any other thoughts about this connection between war and the darkening self?
Heart of Darkness
I wanted to comment that when taken in comparison with something like Mrs. Dalloway it is difficult to see this book as being experimental. However it is not the timeline that makes this story different it is the use of emotion (through the many adjectives) that makes this book experimental in nature.
For those of you that did not comment in class what are your thoughts?
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
"Apocalypse Now" opening
Additionally, I'm on the side that would argue that the film gets better throughout, as it builds on itself on a psychological level, getting more intense throughout, even if it's subtle.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Racism in Heart of Darkness?
-Danielle Holub
Sunday, April 24, 2011
"The Whole Shootin' Match" and regional film.
Theme of Light and Dark
Apocalypse Now
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Apocalypse Now
"Da Buddha"

"A Buddha is any human who has fullly awakened to
the true nature of existence, whose insight has totally transformed him or
her beyond birth, death, and subsequent rebirth, and who is enabled to help
others achieve the same enlightment"
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Film Noir in Apocalypse Now
Audio wise, you have the voice over first person narration of Sheen as well as quiet ambient noise, and a melancholic rock soundtrack, which is arguably what was popular at the time just as jazz/big band music was in the early 40s with film noir's melancholic jazz soundtrack. So does the noir-esqe narration help reinforce the idea of unreliable narrator of the uncanny?
In addition the plot is similar to the classic film noir detective story where Sheen's character plays this military 'detective' on a mission to track down the 'criminal' Kurtz, as well as battling internal moralistic values. So, is the film noir style effective in the adaptation of Heart of Darkness to Apocalypse Now? Why do you think the director Coppola chose to film it this way?
-Cassie
Monday, April 18, 2011
Is "Apocalypse Now" true to the novel "Heart of Darkness"?
Ride of the Valkyries
Mass Tragedy from a smaller point of view in film
During last Monday’s film, we discussed Violence when we were talking about Hiroshima mon Amour. The point was brought up that violence often evokes a purely emotional response before bringing about logical thought. I agree with this statement. We also discussed how bringing a massive tragedy into the perspective of a few people can have an interesting effect on the viewer.
As we were talking about this, I thought of the film Hotel Rwanda. I believe it is a great example of both of these topics. Hotel Rwanda drew attention to an event that wasn’t extremely well known and didn’t gain a lot of it previously. It does this by establishing a connection with individuals, mainly Don Cheadle’s character and his family. It continues by showing the horrible events of the Rwandan genocide. It shows scenes of mass violence, and how it effects this family. I think one of the most emotionally grabbing scenes was the one in which they are driving in the van and hit some bumps on a foggy day. They step out of the van and there are bodies everywhere.
I believe much of the film’s success comes in the story telling from the point of view of the hotel owner, who took in the oppressed people and protected them in his hotel. It helps the viewer relate to how such a huge tragedy could effect themselves, which I believe really puts it into perspective. If you haven’t seen Hotel Rwanda, I would highly recommend it.
RSD
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Hiroshima mon Amour
Narrator Credibility
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Hiroshima Mon Amour Language Barrier
Monday, April 11, 2011
Memory
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Pictures for Memory
HIroshima and the Confused Memory
Friday, April 8, 2011
Memory, shared consciousness
Here's a music video for the Scissor Sisters song "Invisible Light" that plays around with tangent imagery that somehow seems to make sense in our mind, based off rich experiences in visuals we encounter in our daily lives, in film, etc. http://vimeo.com/17444911 (probably NSFW by the way)
This sort of buildup of motion vectors within the piece always leads the audience to a new interpretation. It plays off what Eisenstein did in Battleship Potemkin. What do you think? Does this make sense when we look at these like this, as it connects to framing a narrative from memories, and our unconscious?
Thursday, April 7, 2011
The self-reflexivity of Contempt
I wonder if a lot of the sarcastic, self-reflexive, ironic things that Godard was doing in Contempt were just going over the heads of the producers or whether they gave in to his creative manipulation.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Last Year at Marienbad
Contempt and language
Themes of Last Year at Marienbad
Monday, April 4, 2011
Tracking Shots in Film
Sunday, April 3, 2011
The Motion of the Camera in Contempt
Yet at the same time, Godard almost seems to critique the idea of the tracking shot in the very beginning by showing a camera itself tracking a scene.
And for those are a fan of the tracking shot, I suggest for you to watch one of the most epic tracking shots, done by Godard himself in the short Weekend http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ScGLdfqdYo
-Cassie Hanks
An interesting thought via candy95...
Contempt-Cross cultural relations
Contempt
Contempt
So I just got done watching Contempt and I admit this was a very unique film. I understand that the film is about a film being shot but wow the men in the film really irritated me. What annoys me the most is the way the women were portrayed in the film. Of course, they are viewed as nothing but sex objects and I noticed a few inappropriate parts coming from Jerry and the way he treats Francessca. Although there weren't any actual sex scenes in the film it was obvious from the scenes where Camille is lying naked talking to Paul that those were suppose to represent sex. The truth is Jerry's character made it really hard for me to even like this film to begin with.
Also, it was strange to see Paul's character have no emotional response to Camille's death. All through out the film the two were bickering and fighting and yet he loved her so much. As soon as he finds out that Jerry and Camille are dead it was as if he was reading something in the newspaper but saying it aloud to Francessca. There was no grieving or feeling sorry for Camille who did love her husband but had fallen out of love because he kept leaving her and letting her go with Jerry instead. I think the reason why the film didn't bother to show Paul's character in grief is because the love was already gone between the two. In the film, Paul talks about how if he kills his lover's suitor then she will be mad and he will have lost her forever, but if he killed his lover then he would be all alone and have lost his love too. I think at that moment when he found out that she had died there was nothing else to feel because he had already lost her when she admitted that she despised him. Her mind was already made up so there was no changing it even if he tried some more.
What are your thoughts on the role of women in the film and Paul and Camille's relationship?
Friday, April 1, 2011
Human-like Robots > Robot-like humans
What do y'all think is more uncanny? A functional robot with emotions or a human being used for technology purposes alone?
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Identies in Blade Runner: Last Thought
In the world of Blade Runner, where big corporations rule and it is melting pot of all cultures, races and class, it seems to be really easy to hide who you are. And maybe, that's why Deckard lost his identity amidst the chaos of this society.
-Cassie