essay – Otis Morley’s A-Level Film Studies Blog

Component 1c: British Film Since 1995 (Ideology)

How useful has an ideological critical approach been in analysing the films you have studied? Refer in detail to one or more sequences from each film.
Autumn 2021

Plan:

Introduction

An ideological critical approach is often a highly insightful lens through which a film can be evaluated. In essence, considering ideological implications can enrich the meanings that are able to be extracted from a film’s thematic tapestry. Trainspotting (Danny Boyle, 1996) is a highly frenetic film showcasing the Edinburgh drug culture throughout the 1990s in a nonlinear fashion. The film moves at a blistering pace, prioritising the task of immersing the viewer within its world. Because of this, the film’s ideological messaging is notably ephemeral – fluctuating between themes of anti-consumerism, hedonism, and capitalism. In contrast, This is England (Shane Meadows, 2007) offers a clear-cut narrative with a strong anti-nationalist ideological underpinning, telling a single story that serves to critique the Thatcherism of the 1980s.

Body

Trainspotting – fluctuating ideology: anti-consumerist, hedonist, capitalist

Cold open – Lust for Life lyrics, “choose life” monologue, Sick Boy heroin bliss
The liberal zeitgeist of the 1990s – exaggerated mise-en-scène in drug den, harsh reds, reinforce the effects of drug use
Boyle critiques the consumerist society that perpetuates drug addiction and poverty – encouraging audience empathy
London Montage – cliched sights of London reinforces superficiality. A visual embodiment of Renton’s prior montage – the emptiness of consumerism and conformity. Despite a change in location, Renton is trapped in a consumerist vicious circle – systemic problems of society
Closing sequence is a showcase of Renton’s rejection of hedonism and nihilism – final mirroring monologue

This is England – anti-nationalist

Opening montage – newsreel archival footage grounds the film in Britain during the 1980s. Highlights the economic and social issues that led to the permeation of nationalism. Shaun’s impoverished, fatherless way of life is as a result of the events portrayed in the montage.
Use of soul and reggae music creates a juxtaposition with the violent imagery on screen. Inherent contradictions within skinhead movement, encourages the audience to question the validity of Combo’s ideology
Thatcherism – working class resentment towards controversial policies, embracing capitalism and shutting down coal mines. Iranian embassy crisis.
Cultural and racial inclusivity – younger, older
Combo’s entrance – malice and bigotry is revealed through exaggerated enunciation of racial epithets. Representative of the plague of nationalism during the 1980s. Handheld cameras focus in on a closeup, contrast gliding Steadicam during montage
Racist bother montage – gliding and graceful camerawork. Portraying skinheads as simultaneously pathetic and threatening. Powerful critique of indoctrination – Shaun’s gradual descent into racist culture
Newsreel montage – implicit commentary on the dangers of patriotism. Footage displays a solider erecting a British flag in a tiny village – viewer encouraged to question the validity of the British victory
Symbolism of Shaun rejecting nationalism – throwing flag in ocean. Meadows does not leave his anti-nationalist message up for interpretation or debate

Conclusion

In conclusion, viewing Trainspotting through the lens of an ideological critical approach reveals the film’s attempt to comically deconstruct the messages that are typically conveyed to the youth. Despite the film’s ideological ambiguity, taking this particular approach has been useful in unravelling the thematic substance of the film. Conversely, employing an ideological critical approach for This is England allows for the film’s unashamed anti-nationalist ideology to be fully comprehended, encouraging us to question the nationalism and indoctrination that pervaded England during the 1980s.

Essay – Version 1

Trainspotting begins with a jarring cold open, beginning in medias res with an establishing wide shot of Renton and Spud fleeing from the authorities down the streets of Edinburgh. This frenetic opening is accompanied by the non-diegetic compiled score – Iggy Pop’s Lust for Life – a punk song from the 1970s that is aptly representative of the hedonistic lifestyle led by the characters. As we continue to follow Renton, we are subjected to non-diegetic narration – Renton’s iconic “choose life” monologue. The monologue provides a counter-culture message, rejecting societal norms and expectations, parodying the Scottish anti-drug mantra, instead glorifying the characters’ alternative lifestyles. This opening scene appeals to young defiant individuals, representing the liberal zeitgeist of the 1990s.

Scenes of the chase are intercut with scenes of Mother Superior’s drug den, during which the camera focuses in on a closeup of Sick Boy taking heroin, emphasising the hedonism embraced by the characters. In addition, the mise-en-scène within the den is notably heightened and exaggerated. Boyle’s use of harsh reds arguably reinforces an anti-capitalist ideology, symbolising the characters’ bleak, impoverished existence. By taking an anti-consumerist ideological approach, the audience is able to infer that an inherently consumerist society ultimately perpetuates drug addiction and poverty. This encourages the audience empathise with the characters’ struggles, causing the spectator to question the capitalist system that creates such inequalities.

The London montage that occurs near the midpoint of the film also serves to reinforce an anti-capitalist ideology. The montage quickly cuts between a multiplicity of cliched sights associated with London, including Tower Bridge, ice cream, pigeons, and Piccadilly Circus. All of these serve to represent the superficiality of the city’s supposed capitalist agenda, which is reinforced by an arguably ‘soulless’ non-diegetic compiled EDM score that serves to epitomise the contemporary mainstream of the 1990s. The montage serves as a visual embodiment of the aforementioned “choose life” monologue, demonstrating the emptiness of consumerism and conformity. Despite the fact that Renton has ostensibly left his old lifestyle in Edinburgh behind, he is still trapped in a similar vicious circle. Irony is created from the fact that that while Renton has escaped from the drug den, he has entered into a new realm of capitalism and consumerism by becoming an estate agent, that is just as dangerous in his eyes. This highlights the film’s overarching ideological trappings, illustrate that the issues created by capitalism are systemic and cannot be solved by a simple change of scenery.

Trainspotting’s closing sequence perhaps best underpins the film’s oscillating ideological messaging, depicting Renton’s final decision to reject hedonism. Renton’s decision to steal the money represents the inevitable embrace of a capitalist system, suggesting that he is finally leaving his life of nihilism. Renton ultimately “chooses life” by taking the money for himself, realising that hedonism does not lead to true fulfilment in life. This is displayed to the viewer through a focus pull into a closeup that reveals Renton walking away with the money. Through the use of non-diegetic narration, Renton pledges to begin living a disciplined life, mirroring the rhythm and cadence of his initial “choose life” monologue. Renton states, “I’m gonna be just like you.”, forcing the audience to question their preconceptions towards society, encouraging them to question the status quo.

Conversely to Trainspotting’s cold open, This is England begins with a montage made up of newsreel archival footage. This serves to ground the film in Britain during the 1980s, highlighting the economic and social issues that led to the permeation of nationalism throughout the country, establishing the film’s anti-nationalist ideology. The montage draws particular attention to the Margaret Thatcher government and the rise of far-right politics in England. This included groups such as the National Front, a political party known for its racist rhetoric and violent actions, briefly displayed in the opening montage. The montage also showcases working-class resentment towards Thatcherist policies, involving the embrace of capitalism and the shutting down of coal mines. This footage is accompanied by a non-diegetic compiled reggae song, creating a juxtaposition when apposed with the violent imagery on screen. This song also encourages the audience to question the inherent contradictions within the skinhead movement – a movement originating from a shared love of music associated with black culture that was later plagued by racism and nationalism. After the montage, a title card establishes the year, 1983, and we are introduced to the main protagonist, Shaun. The viewer then is able to make the connection between Shaun’s impoverished, fatherless way of life, and the events portrayed in the montage – Shaun’s life is a direct result of the Thatcher government.

Soon afterwards, Shaun is taken under the wing of the skinheads and Meadows implements the use of another montage to illustrate the budding connection between them. Once again, the montage is accompanied by a reggae piece – a genre that emerged in Jamaica as a form of resistance to colonialism. In addition, the wide shot of the gang walking towards the camera displays the inclusive nature of the skinheads. The gang is notably diverse – being racially inclusive, having younger and older members, alongside male and female members. This challenges a nationalist ideology that typically campaigns for a homogenous, racially pure nation.

The sequence in which we are introduced to Combo is important to consider when taking an ideological critical approach. Combo’s malice and bigotry towards racial minorities is reinforced through his emphasised enunciation of racial epithets. Meadows’ use of handheld cameras contrasts the gliding Steadicam shots during the preceding montage, focusing in on a closeup of Combo to emphasise his raw and unpolished nature. As Combo proceeds to tell his story, the non-diegetic piano score is particularly manipulative, being an exception to the film’s footing in British social realism, emphasising the emotional impact of Combo’s bigoted remarks on the audience. Meadows’ intentions are to make the audience condemn Combo’s actions, highlighting the negative consequences of nationalism and racism within the bigger picture of the country.

The montage in which Combo’s gang wreaks havoc serves as Shane Meadows’ ultimate indictment of nationalism, racism, and the toxic ideology that is often associated with it. The camerawork is gliding, graceful and carefully framed, as seen in previous montages earlier in the film. This creates a sense of unease and discomfort for the audience, as the viewer is forced to confront to the racist hate crimes head-on. Throughout the sequence, the skinheads are simultaneously portrayed as threatening and pathetic. In large numbers, the group are a force to be reckoned with, displayed through the claustrophobic two-shot of Combo and the boy playing football. However, they are individually pathetic and dim witted, as evidenced by the wide shot showcasing misspelled racist graffiti. This technique serves to undermine the group’s power and authority, reinforcing the film’s anti-nationalist ideology. Meadows also depicts the indoctrination of Shaun, as he is taught racist phrases and is trained in the ways of racist hate crime. This is perhaps best underpinned through the superimposition of Shaun walking through a tunnel, overlayed with racist graffiti. In effect, this sequence serves to subject the audience to the repugnance of racism and the danger of extremist ideologies.

Towards the end of the film is a montage that mirrors the opening montage made up of newsreel footage – this serves as a bookend for the film, encouraging the audience to question the dangers of nationalism. The montage acts as an implicit commentary on the dangers of patriotism, exemplified through footage which displays a solider erecting a British flag in a tiny village. This encourages the viewer to question the validity of the British victory during the Falklands War, which directly impacted upon Shaun’s life. This showcase of the grim reality of working-class life in England reinforces the dangers of blindly following nationalist ideologies. This message is further emphasised during the final scene of the film, displaying Shaun throwing the English flag into the water, symbolising his ultimate rejection of a nationalist ideology. The final shot of the film is a closeup of Shaun looking directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall. This underpins Meadows’ ideological messaging – the film’s anti-nationalist agenda is not up for interpretation or debate.

Component 1c: British Film Since 1995 (Narrative)

Explore how the narratives of the films you have studied influence your response to key characters.
Sample Assessment Materials

Plan:

Introduction

Both Trainspotting (Danny Boyle, 1996) and This is England (Shane Meadows, 2007) are films that aptly demonstrate how narrative can be utilised in a variety of means to influence the audience’s response to key characters. Trainspotting employs a frenetic, nonlinear narrative that serves to immerse and engross the viewer within the hedonic world of the five main characters. Alongside this, the audience is also predominantly encouraged to empathise with the protagonist, Mark Renton, as he struggles to overcome the hardships of heroin addiction over the course of the film. Conversely, This is England employs a clear-cut linear narrative that has its roots within cinema vérité and British social realism of the 1980s. However, Shane Meadows employs the use of montage and a manipulative non-diegetic composed score to elicit empathy towards Shaun, showcasing the dangers of indoctrination. To contrast this, Meadows also implements narrative techniques to incite condemnation towards the film’s primary antagonist, Combo, who is representative of the nationalist ideologies that the film critiques throughout.

Body:

Trainspotting – employs a frenetic pace, nonlinear narrative and poetic dialogue to encourage the audience to become engrossed within the five characters’ stories. Particular empathy and engagement directed towards the protagonist, Renton.

Opening sequence – jump cuts, ellipsis, breakneck pacing – immediately immerses the viewer within hedonism
Renton’s non-diegetic narration – poetic and enthralling. Serves to bridge the gap between sequences. Thin, attractive, verbally articulate – highly appealing protagonist.
Lust for Life by Iggy Pop – pulsing, bombastic retro score. The characters’ nostalgia.
Title cards and freeze frames – release from the pandemonium to introduce us to each character, establishing an ensemble cast
Action match – Renton falling on pitch and in the den
Sick Boy James Bond references – relatable and appealing
Bizet’s Habanera alongside exaggerated jagged wooden planks- comical reinforcement of Renton’s isolated struggle to “get off the skag”
Worst toilet in Scotland – surrealist filmmaking, Brian Eno score, brief interlude from the frenetic pacing. Renton‘s distraught inner turmoil
London Montage – time compression, speed of change in Renton’s life. Juxtaposing EDM contemporary score.
Closing monologue mirrors Renton’s opening “choose life” speech. Full circle, confessional remarks. Narrative satisfaction, empathising with Renton’s final decision to take the money.

This is England – use of montage, newsreel footage serves to garner the audience’s empathy towards Shaun’s indoctrination. British social realism roots. Incite repulsion and condemnation towards Combo.

Opening montage – newsreel footage establish historical context, crucial in establishing the foundational empathy towards Shaun. Cause and effect – Shaun’s impoverished, fatherless way of life is as a result of the clips featured in the montage
Fun with friends montage – uses ellipses to highlight the budding relationship between Shaun and the skinheads. Innocent activities – swimming, puddle jumping – juxtaposes thuggish exterior. Highlights vulnerability and their co-dependence
Combo’s story – threatening atmosphere establishes his repugnance. Tight closeups, emphasis of racial epithets, manipulative Ludovico Einaudi score
Shaun superimposed against racist graffiti – empathy towards his indoctrination
Final scene – Shaun throwing the English flag into the water. His rejection of a nationalist ideology.

Conclusion

Essay – Version 1

Both Trainspotting (Danny Boyle, 1996) and This is England (Shane Meadows, 2007) are films that aptly demonstrate how narrative can be utilised in a variety of means to influence the audience’s response to key characters. Trainspotting employs a frenetic, nonlinear narrative that serves to immerse and engross the viewer within the hedonistic world of the five main characters. Alongside this, the audience is also predominantly encouraged to empathise with the protagonist, Mark Renton, as he struggles to overcome the hardships of heroin addiction over the course of the film. Conversely, This is England employs a clear-cut linear narrative that has its roots within cinema vérité and British social realism of the 1980s. However, Shane Meadows employs the use of montage and a manipulative non-diegetic composed score to elicit empathy towards Shaun, showcasing the dangers of nationalist indoctrination. To contrast this, Meadows also implements narrative techniques to incite condemnation towards the film’s primary antagonist, Combo, who is representative of the nationalist ideologies that the film critiques throughout.

The opening sequence of Trainspotting employs a variety of narrative techniques to influence the viewer’s response towards the characters. The disjointed, frenetic narrative drive is immediately established by the film’s cold open in medias res, beginning with a wide shot of Renton and Spud fleeing from the authorities down an Edinburgh street. The scene is accompanied by the non-diegetic compiled score, Lust for Life by Iggy Pop – a pulsing, bombastic song that serves as a nostalgically ‘retro’ soundtrack, exemplifying the characters’ youth. The song immediately immerses the audience within the hedonistic world of Trainspotting, forming a connection between the viewer and the characters. Alongside the score, the scene is also accompanied by Renton’s non-diegetic narration, beginning with the iconically anti-capitalist “choose life” monologue. Renton’s narration is both poetic and enthralling in nature, also serving to bridge the gap between scenes. Renton’s articulate disposition alongside his thin, attractive appearance paints him as a highly charismatic, appealing protagonist to follow throughout the film.

The opening sequence of the film also employs the use of freeze frames and title cards to introduce us to each of the five characters. This allows the viewer a brief release from the pandemonium to soak in each character’s introductory frame, embedding the film’s ensemble cast in the mind of the viewer. Renton also briefly breaks the fourth wall when he looks at the camera through the windshield, grinning at the viewer during his freeze frame. When Renton is hit by the ball during the football training scene, an action match is implemented that displays him falling to the ground after smoking a cigarette in the drug den. This action match creates a light-hearted juxtaposition – the exhilarating camerawork is highly appealing to view, further engrossing the audience in the frenzied world inhabited by Renton. In addition, when Sick Boy makes reference to multiple James Bond films – a seminal hallmark of British pop culture – it is appeals to a British audience, creating a sense of relatability between Sick Boy and the viewer.

Danny Boyle employs surrealist filmmaking techniques to reinforce Renton’s distraught state of mind as he attempts to quit heroin. As he lists off his supplies for isolation, the non-diegetic compiled classical score – Georges Bizet’s Habanera – comically enhances Renton’s struggles. The exaggerated imagery of the jagged wooden planks on the door also serves as a metaphorical representation of Renton’s isolation. Alongside this, the infamous ‘worst toilet in Scotland’ is theatrically repulsive, expressively displaying Renton’s perturbed inner turmoil. This brief vignette also serves as a brief interlude from the film’s frenetic pacing, allowing the viewer to deepen their connection to Renton.

The London montage that signals the film’s second act also exemplifies how narrative is used to elicit empathy towards Renton throughout Trainspotting. The use of the non-diegetic compiled score, Think About The Way by Ice MC – an EDM song exemplary the 1990s – starkly juxtaposes the retro ‘70s soundtrack of the first half of the film, signalling a change in location and society for Renton. The modern metropolis of London is displayed through an array of quick closeups of cliched sights including Tower Bridge, buses, and Piccadilly Circus. These sights contrast sharply with the Scottish landscapes seen earlier in the film, representing Renton’s new life and the challenges that come with it. Boyle’s use of montage is a narrative technique that conveys a sense of time compression, emphasising the overwhelming speed of change in Renton’s life.

Renton’s closing monologue mirrors his opening “choose life” speech, as they both follows a similar rhythm and cadence. Renton’s confessional remarks create a sense of closure and resolution, bringing the narrative back full circle. Renton’s final embrace of capitalism exemplified through his final decision to take the money is cathartic, leaving the viewer to question what they would do in Renton’s shoes. Boyle’s use of a focus pull away from Renton provides a sense of finality, leaving the viewer – who is now emotionally invested within Renton’s narrative – deeply satisfied.

In stark contrast to Trainspotting, This is England opens with an extended montage made up of newsreel footage, portraying events such as the Iranian embassy crisis, that serves to root the film within the relevant historical context of 1980s Thatcherist Britain. Meadows’ intention is to create a sense of cause-and-effect that underpins the film’s narrative structure – when we are introduced to Shaun, the viewer comes to realise that Shaun’s impoverished, fatherless way of life is as a result of the events portrayed throughout the montage. The opening sequence of the film serves as a crucial establishing foundation in inciting empathy towards Shaun from the viewer.

The ‘fun with friends’ montage highlights the budding relationship between Shaun and the skinheads, further deepening the relationship between the characters and the viewer. Shaun’s acceptance into skinhead gang is a significant moment in the film’s narrative structure – the gang becomes a surrogate family for Shaun. The innocence of the characters is exemplified through their childish activities – the montage showcases the gang swimming together, alongside running and jumping in puddles. This perhaps subverts the viewer’s preconception of skinhead culture, as the display of light-hearted fun juxtaposes their intimidating, thuggish exterior.

The sequence in which Combo tells a prison story serves to establish his racist ideology, positioning the audience to condemn Combo as the primary antagonist of the film. Combo’s gatecrash instantly shatters the placid equilibrium of the party, creating a threatening atmosphere, serving to reveal his repugnance to the audience. Meadows’ utilisation of tight close-ups of Combo’s mouth at eye level emphasises his racially-driven hatred, reinforced by his utterances of racial epithets. Ludovico Einaudi’s non-diegetic composed piano score is manipulatively emotional, a departure from traditional social realism that serves to bolster the emotional weight of the scene, causing the viewer to denounce Combo’s nationalist ideologies. This culminates in a heightened level of empathy towards Shaun later in the film as he is indoctrinated by Combo to perform racially-driven hate crimes. This is underpinned by a low-angle shot of Shaun walking under a tunnel that is superimposed with racist graffiti, accompanied by Einaudi’s manipulative score.

The final scene of the film displays Shaun throwing the English flag into the sea, being a powerful conclusion to the film’s narrative. It serves as a symbol of Shaun’s rejection of nationalist ideologies and his acceptance of a more inclusive identity. The final shot is a closeup of Shaun looking directly at the camera, breaking the fourth wall to leave a lasting impression on the audience. This scene serves to both highlight the dangers of nationalist indoctrination and provide a level of finality and catharsis – the audience has established an empathetic connection with Shaun over the course of the film, with this scene marking the end of his character arc.

In conclusion, both Trainspotting and This is England showcase how narrative techniques can be implemented to influence the audience’s response towards key characters. Boyle’s use of nonlinear narrative, score, and non-diegetic narration culminate to immerse the viewer within the hedonistic world of the characters first and foremost, encouraging empathy towards Mark Renton as he struggles with drug addiction. Meadows’ approach appears to be much more direct, utilising audience positioning, newsreel footage, alongside a highly manipulative score to fully influence the viewer’s perceptions of Shaun and Combo in order to critique the nationalist ideologies that plagued Britain during the 1980s.

Component 1b: US Film Since 2005 (Spectatorship)

Explore how far the two films you have studied demonstrate the filmmakers’ attempt to control the spectator’s response.
Autumn 2020

Plan:

Introduction

Throughout both Winter’s Bone (Debra Granik, 2010) and No Country For Old Men (Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007), the respective filmmakers persistently attempt to control the spectator’s response in a variety of faceted means. Winter’s Bone implements audience positioning in ways that attempt to elicit empathy within the viewer towards the protagonist, Ree, and her struggles within an oppressive patriarchal society. Granik claims that it is “a feminist film about an anti-feminist world”, implying that the preferred reading is one in which the viewer is encouraged to support Ree’s actions throughout the film. Conversely, the Coen brothers set out to actively subvert the spectator’s preconceptions of narrative in No Country For Old Men, by encoding the film with an ambiguous thematic substance, challenging the spectator’s morals and ideologies. A passive spectator would even perhaps argue that the film is ‘unsatisfying’, as it does not conform to the conventions of a traditional narrative.

Body

Winter’s Bone – incites empathy within the viewer towards the characters, under the context of feminism

Preferred reading – empathising with Ree as an empowered woman and her struggles against patriarchal oppression
Negotiated reading – Ree’s actions are still immoral, despite being in a feminist world
Active spectatorship and negotiated reading during ‘squirrel dream’ sequence. Audience’s own perception will interpret the dream to have a particular meaning – perhaps the squirrel is representative of Ree’s oppression
Audience is positioned to view Teardrop as a symbol of toxic masculinity

No Country For Old Men – subverting audience’s preconceptions

No traditional ‘face off’, the Sheriff is mostly uninvolved with the events of the film
Preferred reading – siding with the Sheriff, sympathy with his disillusionment towards the senseless violence that permeates the state
Fade to black at the end leaves the audience dwelling upon the sheriff’s dreams – symbolism of following his father into the grave
Inevitable frustration towards the ‘unsatisfying’ conclusion – Llewelyn’s off-screen death
Active spectatorship – pensive opening sequence, little to no dialogue. Introspective sheriff monologue – doesn’t drive the plot forward. Exemplifies the rejection of the hypodermic needle theory.
The preconception of unconditionally supporting the protagonist’s actions is subverted when Llewelyn doesn’t give the man any water and instead takes the briefcase

The motivations behind Anton’s ambiguous murders are to be inferred by the audience through active spectatorship – checking boots for blood after inferably killing Carla Jean, nihilistic coin flips

Conclusion

In conclusion, Winter’s Bone and No Country For Old Men use starkly contrasting methods in order to control the viewer’s response. Winter’s Bone predominately implements audience positioning in an attempt to incite empathy towards Ree and her struggles within an oppressive patriarchal society. Through the use of cinematography, mise-en-scène, sound, and dialogue, Granik encourages the spectator to support Ree’s actions. Conversely, No Country For Old Men subverts the spectator’s preconceptions of narrative conventions through the use of unorthodox narrative techniques alongside an inherently ambiguous thematic tapestry. The Coen brothers encourage active spectatorship to be exercised throughout, allowing for layered meanings of the film to be deciphered. Both films aptly demonstrate the power filmmakers possess towards shaping how a spectator responds to a film.

Essay – Version 1

Throughout both Winter’s Bone (Debra Granik, 2010) and No Country For Old Men (Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007), the respective filmmakers persistently attempt to control the spectator’s response in a variety of faceted means. Winter’s Bone implements audience positioning in ways that attempt to elicit empathy within the viewer towards the protagonist, Ree, and her struggles within an oppressive patriarchal society. Granik claims that the film is “a feminist film about an anti-feminist world”, implying that the preferred reading is one in which the viewer is encouraged to support Ree’s actions throughout the film. Conversely, the Coen brothers set out to actively subvert the spectator’s preconceptions of narrative in No Country For Old Men, by encoding the film with an ambiguous thematic substance, challenging the spectator’s morals and ideologies. A passive spectator would even perhaps argue that the film is ‘unsatisfying’, as it does not conform to the conventions of a traditional narrative.

During the opening sequence of Winter’s Bone, the viewer is immediately encouraged to emphasise with Ree‘s struggles in an impoverished and oppressive patriarchy. The film opens with a non-diegetic lullaby, immediately connoting a sense of intimate maternity. Cutting to a wide shot, the children are framed behind the bars of a bed-frame — implying to the viewer that they are trapped within their environment. This opening sequence also conveys the cyclical nature of nurturing – Ree’s sister, Ashlee takes care of her toy kitten, implying the idea that she herself has been nurtured by Ree. Mise-en-scène is also implemented within the domestic landscape, being littered with waste and abandoned items. This, alongside the characters clothing being ragged and humble, emphasises the poverty-stricken way of life Ree and her family leads, positioning the audience as to empathise with them.

Ree’s bravery and defiance within an oppressive patriarchy is also displayed to the spectator during the ‘cattle market’ sequence, during which Ree calls for Thump Milton at the top of her lungs. Milton is unable to comprehend her, further reinforcing the invisible yet prevalent divide between the male and female worlds. Alongside this, the non-diegetic composed score becomes discordant, creating a sense of urgency. It is layered in tandem with the cries of the cattle, creating a sensory overload which reflects Ree’s distraught state of mind. This is another example of audience positioning used in an attempt to control the spectator’s response – eliciting empathy towards Ree in this case.

An example of taking a negotiated reading by using active spectatorship occurs during the ‘squirrel dream’ sequence. During this sequence, Granik utilises unorthodox techniques such as black and white grainy footage filmed with a cheap handheld camera. Granik also implements a 4:3 aspect ratio, further contributing to the surreal nature of the sequence. A negotiated reading would argue that the squirrel in the sequence is perhaps a metaphor for Ree – as both are victims of a disrupted naturalistic environment. The danger faced by the squirrel is displayed through its shuddering fear, captured through the camera’s rapid and disorienting movements. A jarring diegetic chainsaw sound promptly enters the mix, perhaps being representative of the oppressive patriarchy that endangers Ree’s peaceful existence. A worms-eye-view shot of the trees is also used, displaying the squirrel, and by extension, Ree, as dwarfed, emphasizing her vulnerability within an oppressive patriarchal society. This reading is not explicitly conveyed by the film, but is instead only able to be inferred through active spectatorship. Each viewer will interpret this sequence in a slightly different way, exemplifying how this sequence is an example of Debra Granik attempting to control the spectator’s response.

Throughout the film, Ree’s uncle Teardrop is characterised in ways that illustrate him as a symbol of toxic masculinity – a notion that is able to be unravelled through active spectatorship. In the ‘squirrel gutting’ sequence, a focus pull is implemented to draw the spectator’s attention towards Teardrop as he approaches Ree. During their conversation, Teardrop offers some drugs to Ree, asking if she “has the taste for it yet”. Ree adamantly refuses, being indicative of her mental fortitude and purity that she possess over Teardrop, positioning the audience in a way that encourages the spectator to condemn Teardrop. In addition, during the closing sequence, Teardrop vows to seek revenge on the man that killed Ree’s father, reinforcing the cyclical nature of violence and highlighting the idea that Teardrop’s misguided sense of loyalty is a negative force, and that it is ultimately through the actions of women that the problems in the film are resolved. This further encourages the viewer to support Ree’s actions, framing Teardrop as a force of evil.

In contrast to Winter’s Bone’s attempts to control the spectator through the use of audience positioning which encourages the viewer to empathise with Ree, No Country For Old Men controls the viewer’s response by instead setting out to actively subvert the spectator’s preconceptions of narrative conventions, weaving an ambiguous thematic substance that pervades the film. Through this, active spectatorship is required to decipher a particular meaning from the Coen brothers’ enigmatic masterpiece.

The opening scene of the film immediately subverts the spectator’s expectations by beginning with a non-diegetic monologue delivered by Sheriff Ed Tom Bell. The monologue does not serve to provide exposition, but is instead an introspective monologue in which the sheriff reminisces upon the senselessly violent crimes that he has dealt with throughout his career. The viewer is left to question the meaning of this monologue, encouraged to become an active spectator by unravelling the themes of nihilism and determinism that the monologue touches upon. The preferred reading of the film is arguably for the viewer to side with the sheriff, sympathising with his disillusionment towards the nihilism that permeates Texas. This opening scene exemplifies the rejection of the hypodermic needle model which suggested that audiences were to blindly accept any messages presented within media.

Instead of being rewarded with a traditional showdown between the three main characters, the spectator’s expectations are instead subverted by the final scene of the film, with it being a pensive recount of the sheriff’s dreams. The Coens’ decision to end the film with an abrupt cut to black controls the viewer’s response in an interesting way – the spectator is forced to dwell upon the meanings of the sheriff’s dream as the credits roll. While a passive spectator would argue that this final scene is an unsatisfying conclusion to the film, an active spectator would perhaps argue that Ed Tom’s dream is symbolic of the sheriff following his father towards his impending demise.

No Country For Old Men also subverts the preconception of unconditionally supporting the protagonist’s actions during the first scene involving the character of Llewelyn Moss. During the scene, the viewer bears witness to Llewelyn’s selfish actions. He chooses to not give water to a dying man, instead taking the briefcase containing $2 million. Viewers are encouraged to employ active spectatorship – Llewelyn’s actions are arguably morally reprehensible and selfish, but this idea is not explicitly conveyed to the audience. Individual spectators are instead encouraged to decide whether or not Llewelyn’s actions are morally just.

The nature of Llewelyn’s death, being abrupt and offscreen, also serves as a means of controlling the spectator by subverting the their expectations. After a seemingly mundane and innocuous conversation between Llewelyn and a woman sitting in a pool takes place, the scene abruptly fades to black, before we cut to Sheriff Ed Tom Bell’s point of view. The Coens’ employ a POV shot of the sheriff running towards the crime during which camera shake is employed to heighten the tension. Ed Tom, however, is too late – the inevitable causality of death has already taken effect. The fact that Llewelyn is killed in such an unheroic manner by a group of characters we have never been introduced reinforces the futility of humanity, providing acute shock value for the viewer in which their response is controlled by the filmmakers.

Throughout the film, ruthless hitman Anton Chigurh commits a series of senseless, brutal murders in pursuit of the money-filled briefcase. However, Anton’s motivations that fuel his actions are highly ambiguous, choosing his victims seemingly at random, rather than just those who obstruct his aims. The meanings behind Anton’s actions are to be extracted by the viewer – by employing active spectatorship, the Coens encourage the viewer to uncover the truth behind Anton’s murders. During the ‘call it, friend-o’ sequence, Anton leaves a perfectly innocent man’s fate up to a 50/50 coin flip, perhaps reinforcing his nihilistic belief that human life is meaningless and arbitrary. After the owner argues that he didn’t put anything up to win on the coin flip, Anton informs the man that “you’ve been putting it up your whole life, you just didn’t know it”, suggesting that the end of the man’s meaningless existence has already been decided. Alongside this, during the closing sequence, it is implied that Anton does indeed kill Carla Jean. Using active spectatorship, the viewer is able insinuate that Carla is dead after Anton checks his shoes for blood – an action that he has performed many times over the course of the film. An implied reading of the scene argues that due to the fact that Carla did not let the coin decide her fate, Anton decides to end her life purely due to his belief in the insignificance of human life.

In conclusion, Winter’s Bone and No Country For Old Men use starkly contrasting methods in order to control the viewer’s response. Winter’s Bone predominately implements audience positioning in an attempt to incite empathy towards Ree and her struggles within an oppressive patriarchal society. Through the use of cinematography, mise-en-scène, sound, and dialogue, Granik encourages the spectator to support Ree’s actions to support her impoverished family. Conversely, No Country For Old Men subverts the spectator’s preconceptions of narrative conventions through the use of unorthodox narrative techniques alongside an inherently ambiguous thematic tapestry. The Coen brothers encourage active spectatorship to be exercised throughout, allowing for layered meanings of the film to be deciphered. Both films aptly demonstrate the power filmmakers possess towards shaping how a spectator responds to a film.

Component 1b: US Film Since 2005 (Ideology)

How valuable has ideological analysis been in developing your understanding of the themes of your chosen films?
Sample Assessment Materials

Plan:

Introduction

Ideological analysis is a critical viewpoint that has served to be invaluable in the thematic comprehension of both Winter’s Bone (Debra Granik, 2010) and No Country For Old Men (Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007). Viewing Winter’s Bone through the lens of a feminist ideology allows for the examination of how women are oppressed within a male-dominated patriarchy. A feminist lens reveals the film’s implicit messages concerning gender, and how it affects social power dynamics. Conversely, viewing No Country For Old Men through a nihilistic ideological viewpoint has allowed for a broader understanding of its enigmatic themes presented over the course of the film. The film’s antagonist, Anton Chigurh, is the film’s primary embodiment of nihilism – he rejects traditional morals and is instead driven by the meaninglessness of human existence.

Body

Winter’s Bone – feminist ideological analysis is the best approach

Ree’s competence – attending to maternal and paternal duties (chopping wood and cooking)
Bechdel test, male gaze, non-sexualising clothing
Androgynous children appearances – Ashlee wishes to hunt, Sonny is squeamish
Poverty expressed through mise-en-scène
Ree’s interactions with men – Teardrop, sheriff, Thump Milton, etc.
Overwhelming male domination of cattle market – incomprehensible dialogue. Sickening yellow palette, steely blue palette of herding location
Squirrel dream sequence – 4:3, grainy handheld footage, dreamy. Chainsaw symbolic representation of the patriarchy, squirrel is the oppressed women
Narrative resolution solved through female discussion and cooperation

No Country For Old Men – nihilistic ideological approach

Barren landscapes of Texas reflect nihilism
Ed Tom monologue at start. Ed Tom and Ellis dialogue about senseless violence
Anton’s brutal murders. Leaving victims’ fates up to a coin flip. Petrol station owner and Carla Jean
Llewelyn – no empathy towards man begging for water. Takes money briefcase McGuffin, nihilist causality. Sudden offscreen death.
Ed Tom dreams

Conclusion

Ultimately, the meanings of both Winter’s Bone and No Country For Old Men are vastly enriched when taking particular ideological analysis into account. Viewing Winter’s Bone through a feminist lens allows for an astute appreciation of Granik’s implicit “feminist film about an anti-feminist world”. Taking the ideological viewpoint of nihilism for No Country For Old Men, on the other hand, enables the Coen Brothers’ ambiguous thematic substance to be unravelled, ultimately resulting in a deeper appreciation of the film.

Essay – Version 1

When choosing to view the opening sequence of Winter’s Bone through the lens of a feminist ideology, a critical framework rooted in analysing how women are oppressed throughout film, it becomes clear that the protagonist, Ree, is a symbol of feminism and female empowerment. She competently attends to an array of domestic tasks throughout the sequence, such as chopping wood and cooking. This indicates that Ree does not conform to typical gender roles typically presented throughout the Hollywood landscape, performing duties that are stereotypically considered both maternal and paternal. This is accentuated through Ree’s baggy non-gendered clothing – she is not sexualised in any way throughout the film, nonconforming to the ‘male gaze’ that permeates Hollywood.

Similarly, Ree’s siblings Ashlee and Sonny have notably androgynous appearances, implying that gender does not factor into how these children are to be nurtured by Ree. In fact, Granik actively subverts gender stereotypes during the ‘squirrel gutting’ sequence, during which Ashlee displays a desire to hunt animals, whereas Sonny appears to be much more squeamish and reluctant. This subtle subversion of gender stereotypes serves to reinforce the feminist ideology that the film adheres to, deepening the understanding that can be extracted from it. An interesting role reversal also occurs when Ree combs her mother’s hair later in the sequence, a typical action performed by a mother to her daughter. This emphasises the multi-faceted familial duties that Ree is burdened with attending to. The film also passes the Bechdel test numerous times during the opening minutes of the film, with the interaction between Ree and Sonja concerning a horse perhaps best exemplifying the feminist ideology conveyed by the film.

Ree can be seen standing her ground against the male characters that attempt to hinder her goals, such as the sheriff in the opening sequence who informs her that her house is to be sold for her father’s bond. She addresses the sheriff with confident remarks such as “I’ll find him”, highlighting the difficulty she faces within an oppressive, patriarchal society. Ree displays a similar level of defiance and empowerment towards her uncle Teardrop, who represents the oppressive toxic masculinity that pervades the Ozarks. A focus pull is implemented to draw our attention towards him as he edges closer to Ree. Teardrop’s appearance is notably scruffy and ragged, displaying the impoverished state of the Ozarks. A simple shot/reverse shot sequence is employed throughout this scene, as opposed to a low/high angle shot alternation. This indicates that the power dynamic between Ree and Teardrop is equal, aligning with the feminist ideology the film adheres to. After Teardrop informs Ree of Jessop’s car being burned, her expression remains stoic, emphasising Ree’s resilience she has garnered after becoming the family’s primary caregiver.

During the ‘cattle market’ sequence, the oppressive patriarchy is symbolically conveyed through the use of an overwhelming soundscape. The diegetic sound of the unintelligible language of the auction dominates the sound mix, serving to reinforce the idea that the masculine world is incomprehensible to Ree, emphasising the power dynamic between her and the men. The cow at the center of the scene appears frightened, its life dependent on the mercy of the men, further reinforcing the domineering force that the men exert. The men are also all white and middle aged, reinforcing the homogenous patriarchal hive mind the men represent.

A standout sequence of Winter’s Bone is the ‘squirrel dream’ sequence, during which Granik employs unorthodox filmmaking techniques to reinforce the female oppression presented throughout the film. Using a cheap handheld camera, black and white, alongside a 4:3 aspect ratio to create an otherworldly atmosphere, the squirrel in the sequence is a perhaps a metaphorical embodiment of Ree, with both being victims of a disrupted equilibrium. The danger faced by the squirrel is displayed through its shuddering fear, captured through the camera’s rapid and disorienting movements. A jarring diegetic chainsaw sound promptly enters the mix, perhaps being representative of the oppressive patriarchy that endangers Ree’s peaceful existence. A worms-eye-view shot of the trees is used, displaying the squirrel, and by extension, Ree, as dwarfed, emphasizing her vulnerability within an oppressive patriarchal society – a notion that can only be extracted when viewing the film through a feminist ideology.

Although No Country For Old Men could be viewed through a feminist ideological lens, it would perhaps be more insightful to analyse the film through the ideological viewpoint of nihilism. This involves considering the viewpoint that denies the existence of any inherent meaning or value in human life, instead emphasising the absurdity of existence.

The film’s opening sequence begins with a series of bleak yet breathtaking aerial wide shots of the landscape of West Texas. These barren shots serve to establish the inexplicability and meaninglessness of humanity, conveyed through the implied absence of human activity alongside the desolation of the terrain. The landscape is stark and unforgiving, with no signs of life or hope, reinforcing the film’s nihilistic worldview. The imagery is suggestive of the fact that the world is a cold and indifferent place, where human existence is inconsequential.

The opening sequence of the film also introduces the viewer to Llewelyn Moss, the main protagonist. Throughout the sequence, he is often filmed from extreme long shots to reinforce the desolate, unwelcoming landscape. He soon stumbles upon a drug deal gone wrong, after which he remains stoic and unfazed towards the array of dead bodies. Llewelyn also shows no empathy towards the dying man begging for water, implying that he has been desensitised to human suffering – a hallmark of a nihilism. After locating a briefcase full of money, the film’s determinist chain of events are set in motion – Llewelyn’s fate is sealed from the beginning, reinforcing the nihilistic ideology that the film adheres to. Llewelyn’s choice to take the money is indicative of his disregard for traditional morals and societal norms.

Nihilism is perhaps best exemplified through the character of Anton Chigurh, a ruthless hitman driven purely by his belief in the futility of humanity. In the opening sequence, the viewer is introduced to Anton committing two brutal murders in sequence. The first is using a pair of handcuffs, during which a series of birds-eye-view and mid shots display Anton’s senselessly graphic violence, which emphasises his disregard towards human existence. This also acts in stark juxtaposition to the aforementioned pensive opening scene of the film. The second murder involves Anton duping a truck driver into believing he is a policeman before killing him with a highly unconventional weapon: a cattle gun, suggesting that he views humans as mere animals whose existence is futile. He displays no remorse towards extinguishing two human lives in quick succession, reinforcing his character as a symbol of nihilism.

Anton’s flippant attitude towards human existence is perhaps best underpinned by the symbolism that can be inferred through his decision to let his victims decide their fate through a coin flip at multiple points throughout the film. Anton leaves a perfectly innocent man’s fate up to a 50/50 chance, during the ‘call it, friend-o’ sequence, reinforcing his nihilistic belief that human life is meaningless and arbitrary. During the scene, the Coens employ a tight shot/reverse shot sequence throughout, during which the camera gradually pushes in towards the two, further increasing the suspense. After the owner argues that he didn’t put anything up to win on the coin flip, Anton informs the man that “you’ve been putting it up your whole life, you just didn’t know it”, suggesting that the end of the man’s meaningless existence has already been decided.

Sheriff Ed Tom Bell’s opening monologue acts as a perfect introduce to his disillusionment with the nihilism that plagues society. Throughout the monologue, he reminisces upon the senseless crimes that he has dealt with throughout his career, reflecting upon the violence that pervades Texas. He notes that a man who killed a 14-year-old girl told him that “there wasn’t any passion to it” and that “he’d do it again” if they let him out. This serves to reinforce the nihilism towards human existence that dominates the conscience of the region – the sheriff’s disillusionment towards his own traditional beliefs is perhaps reflective of the broader disillusionment that society bears towards the moralistic status quo. The opening monologue sets into motion Ed Tom’s final decision to retire during the film’s closing sequence. A conversation between Ed Tom and his uncle Ellis reveals that the violence stemming from nihilism that permeates the state has ultimately caused Ed Tom to abandon his sense of justice, and retire. When commenting on the violence, Ellis notes that “what you got ain’t nothing new. This country is hard on people. You can’t stop what’s coming”, implying that the atrocities committed by humankind transcend generation, but have instead taken a new form – nihilism. The film’s title even implies that there is no place for “old men” in today’s society – traditional morals are now devoid of any meaning. This analytical viewpoint is indicative of the nuanced meanings that can be extracted from ideological critical analysis.

Ultimately, the meanings of both Winter’s Bone and No Country For Old Men are vastly enriched when taking particular ideological analysis into account. Viewing Winter’s Bone through a feminist lens allows for an astute appreciation of Granik’s implicitly “feminist film about an anti-feminist world”. Taking the ideological viewpoint of nihilism for No Country For Old Men, on the other hand, enables the Coen brothers’ ambiguous thematic substance to be unravelled, ultimately resulting in a deeper appreciation of the film.

Component 1a: Hollywood 1930-1990 (Comparative Study) — Contexts

Compare how far your chosen films reflect their different production contexts.
Sample Assessment Materials

Plan:

Introduction

Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942) and Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967) are two films that are shining exemplars of two starkly contrasting production contexts within Hollywood. Casablanca was a film produced by Warner Brothers under the Hollywood Studio System during the Golden Age – one which epitomises the rigid and traditional Classical Hollywood style of the era. Conversely, Bonnie and Clyde sought to defy the preconceptions of the Golden Age after the dissolution of the studio system, taking influence from the French New Wave to employ modern technology and unorthodox filmmaking techniques. The film foregrounds a gritty portrayal of two real life criminals – one which does not shy away from graphic violence and sexual undertones – birthing the New Hollywood era of filmmaking.

Body

Institutional context: Compare how Casablanca was produced by Warner Bros under the studio system (vertical integration, unbreakable contracts, star system, Hays code etc.). Whereas Bonnie and Clyde was produced after the Paramount Case, allowing for a greater deal of creative freedom within Warner Bros.

Technological context: Compare the styles of filmmaking (Classical Hollywood style vs French New Wave-influenced style). Mention specific examples rooted in key sequences, alongside the technology available to the studios. Filmed in the studio vs on-location.

Historical context: Compare how Casablanca was filmed and set during the First World War (Vichy water implications), but Bonnie and Clyde is set in a Great Depression 1930s (FDR posters plastered on the wall) , but released during the 1960s.

Comparing how the film stars are presented: Casablanca (Ilsa is glamorous and pristine, through key and fill lighting, Rick’s rugged appearance accentuated by lighting).

Conclusion

Ultimately, both films are apt representations of the production contexts that both films were produced under respectively. Casablanca epitomises the Classical Hollywood style typical of the films of the Golden Age, whereas Bonnie and Clyde paved the way for the New Hollywood era – embracing graphic violence and sexual content that defied the typicalities of the more traditional, conservative films of the previous age.

Essay – Version 1

Casablanca (Michael Curtiz, 1942) and Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967) are two films that are shining exemplars of two starkly contrasting production contexts within Hollywood. Casablanca was a film produced by Warner Brothers under the Hollywood Studio System that operated under the practice of vertical integration during the Golden Age. The film epitomises the rigid and traditional Classical Hollywood style of the era. Conversely, Bonnie and Clyde sought to defy the preconceptions of the Golden Age after the dissolution of the studio system. By taking influence from the French New Wave, employing modern technology and unorthodox filmmaking techniques, this appealed to the newly diverse cinematic landscape enjoyed by audiences throughout this period. The film foregrounds a gritty portrayal of two real life criminals – one which does not shy away from graphic violence and sexual undertones – birthing the New Hollywood era of filmmaking.

Casablanca’s conception originated with Warner Bros. buying the rights to a unproduced stage play, Everybody Comes to Rick’s, for $20,000. Afterwards, the studio quickly began work on building bespoke sets for the film, creating the illusion of exoticism by foregrounding the lavish production values that the studio poured into the construction. A clear example of this can be seen in the opening sequence of the film in which an expansively lavish set of Casablanca populated with countless extras takes place. This is revealed to the viewer through camerawork typical of the Classical Hollywood style: a crane shot that tilts down to reveal the opulent set. Conversely, Bonnie and Clyde strove to purport the highest level of authenticity and thus, chose to film the vast majority of the film on location with the implementation of natural lighting. The opening sequence of the film introduces us to Clyde through a wide shot filmed through a mosquito net, creating an atmosphere that feels much more tangible than Casablanca’s constructed reality. Akin to the French New Wave, the use of natural lighting serves to add an extra layer of authenticity to the film.

Casablanca is a product of the Golden Age of Hollywood that exemplifies the concept of film star ‘stables’ that were owned by the studios. Due to ‘unbreakable contracts’ that exclusively contracted actors to specific studios, Warner Bros. endeavoured to make apt use of their stars. With this in mind, the studio chose to cast Humphrey Bogart as Rick, a star who was often typecast as the ‘rugged individual’ archetype in films such as The Maltese Falcon (John Huston, 1941). Through this, Rick’s character was customised to suit Bogart’s acting capabilities, introducing us to him in the ‘Leaving Rick’s’ sequence by filming Bogart from a centrally framed low-angle shot whilst being cast in shadow to accentuate his masculinity. In addition to this, during the Paris flashback sequence, Rick dons a trench coat and hat during the train station scene. This subtly pays homage to Humphrey Bogart’s classic detective roles he was cast as during the Film Noir scene, demonstrating that Warner Bros. attempted to fully capitalise on the ‘stable’ of stars they possessed. The studio also chose Ingrid Bergman to play Ilsa, an internationally renowned actress. Throughout the film, Bergman was highly glamourised through the use of lavish costume design, hair, makeup, alongside the use of key lighting and soft focus to accentuate her beauty. This is highly typical of the Classical Hollywood style that Warner Bros. was renowned for at the time.

In contrast, the titular couple in Bonnie and Clyde are presented in a vastly different light. Instead of conforming to the ‘rugged individual’ protagonist archetype, Clyde is presented in a much more nuanced manner due to his ambiguous sexuality that Warren Beatty (producer and star) campaigned for. Towards the end of the opening sequence of the film, a closeup is displayed of Clyde drinking a bottle of Coke, which both connotes provocatively phallic imagery and is indicative of the Prohibition Era that was in effect during the 1930s. This is furthered later in the film when Clyde appears to be uninterested or perhaps unable to engage in sexual activity with Bonnie. Bonnie is presented in a much more seductive manner in contrast to Ilsa, which is immediately demonstrated to the audience through the first shot of the film – an extreme closeup of her luscious red lips, a symbol of sex. This, alongside the fact that Bonnie appears naked for the first scene of the film, presents her feminine beauty in a more natural and intimate manner than Ilsa’s artificially maintained beauty.

Casablanca’s production was spearheaded by Jack L. Warner – the president of Warner Brothers. A primary agenda of Warner was to feature the ongoing war prominently in the studio’s films, in an attempt to subtly signal America to join the war efforts. This is particularly evident in the final scene of the film, in which Captain Renault chooses to bin the Vichy-branded water bottle, displayed to the viewer through a closeup. This is symbolic of the studio’s negative views towards fascism, perhaps being indicative of the side the country eventually took when America joined the war. Historical context is also important to consider when evaluating the production contexts of Bonnie and Clyde. Although the film was released in 1967, it is set during the 1930s – a time in which the effects of the Great Depression coursed through all of America, particularly the poorer Southern states in which the film takes place. For example, the streets that the couple walk down in the opening sequence are barren, reflective of the Great Depression. The mise-en-scène is also meticulously selected to reflect the time period, such as the FDR presidential campaign posters that are plastered to the walls, serving to immerse the audience in the 1930s. Through this, viewers who had lived through this time period themselves were encouraged to empathise with Bonnie and Clyde’s struggles during this period of poverty and bleakness.

Casablanca was shot entirely in black and white, a typical feature of Warner Brothers’ ‘house style’ at the time. By 1942, colour had been implemented into a number films for around a decade, with studios such as MGM immediately choosing to embrace colour. MGM would go on to produce The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939) a landmark of the cutting-edge Technicolor technology, but colour was considered by many other studios to merely be a ‘gimmick’. During the time of Casablanca’s release, black and white was arguably at its peak, and Warner Bros. believed that choosing to film in black and white – despite the introduction of colour technology – demonstrated artistic nuance, as the iconic ‘noir aesthetic’ had now been refined for over 50 years. Colour was not as ‘sterile’ as black and white was during this time, only being able to display highly saturated colours. Conversely, Bonnie and Clyde was shot in colour, aptly portraying a much grittier and authentic atmosphere in contrast to Casablanca romanticised ‘noir’ aesthetic. The film’s cinematographer, Burnett Guffey, once stated that Arthur Penn wanted the film to be “as real and untheatrical as possible” and the decision to embrace modern Technicolor technology supports this.

During the production of Casablanca, the studio was significantly limited by the Hays Code – a series of regulations that forbade graphic violence and sexual content to be displayed within the film. This is particularly evident in the final scene of the film in which Rick shoots Major Strasser, after which no blood is shown, indicative of the Hays Code restrictions. This conservative presentation of violence soon became a typical convention of the Classical Hollywood style, to which audiences became accustomed during the Golden Age. This greatly contrasts with how violence is presented throughout Bonnie and Clyde. After the dissolution of the studio system that occurred after the result of the Paramount Case, the Hays Code gradually became more lax over time, resulting in Bonnie and Clyde’s presentation of graphic violence as a means to shock audiences who had become accustomed to the conservative presentation of violence typical of Classical Hollywood. At the end of the ‘Botched Heist’ sequence, Clyde shoots a man in the mouth through a car window. This is presented to the viewer through rapid editing, cutting quickly between closeups of the man clinging to the car and reactionary shots of Clyde. The film does not shy away from its presentation of blood, with the film implementing the use of squibs filled with stage blood, which exploded upon impact. These were employed in this scene, alongside many others throughout the film, including the infamous massacre of the titular couple at the end of the film. This graphic display of violence serves to ground the film in reality and forces the audience to confront Bonnie and Clyde’s heinous actions.

Component 2d: Experimental Film 1960-2000 (Auteurship)

“Experimental film is often the result of an auteur challenging established conventions with fresh ideas.” With reference to your chosen film option, how far do you agree with this statement?
Summer 2019

Plan:

Introduction

Defined as a film director who influences their films so much that they rank as their author, being considered an auteur is a highly prestigious honour only held by small circle of filmmakers. Auteurs possess full creative control over each of their respective works and thus, the viewer is able to identify a film as being part of an auteur’s filmography from a wide range of observable tropes, such as: patterns, repetition, and motifs. Originating from the Cahiers du Cinema magazine in the 1950s, auteurship has always been closely linked with subverting the status quo, and bringing fresh ideas to the table, with revered names such as Hitchcock and Welles utilising groundbreaking techniques such as high contrast and camera fluidity to pioneer this concept.

From the very start of his filmography, Quentin Tarantino has demonstrated that he is most definitely an auteur. Throughout each of his nine films, Tarantino’s artistic expression can be viewed throughout a wide variety of patterns, tropes and motifs that set his films apart from mainstream Hollywood flicks. Tarantino’s unique style of filmmaking is universally recognisable and acknowledged by both viewer and critic alike, particularly within his second film considered by many to be his magnum opus – Pulp Fiction (1994).

Body

Mention dialogue, pop culture, trivialities

Violence

Chaptering and nonlinear narrative

Soundtrack

Postmodernism

Revitalising the career of John Travolta and Bruce Willis

The way he represents certain types of people – women, black people etc.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I firmly agree with the statement. Considered a landmark of the postmodernist movement, Tarantino actively challenges the pre-established conventions of filmmaking by utilising a wide variety of unorthodox measures throughout Pulp Fiction, such as stylised hyper-violence, a jumbled narrative structure, alongside seemingly trivial yet slick pop-culture filled dialogue, that ultimately paints Tarantino as a leading auteur of cinema.

Essay – Version 1

Defined as a film director who influences their films so much that they rank as their author, being considered an auteur is a highly prestigious honour only held by small circle of filmmakers. Auteurs possess full creative control over each of their respective works and thus, the viewer is able to identify a film as being part of an auteur’s filmography from a wide range of observable tropes, such as patterns, repetition, and motifs. Originating from the Cahiers du Cinema magazine in the 1950s, the concept of auteurship has always been closely linked with subverting the status quo, and bringing fresh ideas to the table, with revered names such as Hitchcock and Welles utilising groundbreaking techniques such as high contrast and camera fluidity to pioneer this concept.

A cornerstone of Tarantino’s auterial tropes present within each and every one of his films is his stylistic use of dialogue. A typical occurrence is that a character will engage in a lengthy monologue about a seemingly trivial matter that is unimportant to the overall plot. The dialogue throughout Pulp Fiction moves with a flowing rhythm, being both fast paced and densely packed. Each character actively engages in seemingly trivial monologues, concerning frivolous topics such as burgers, milkshakes, and foot massages. In effect, this dialogue does not drive the plot forward, but instead richly humanises the archetypal characters being portrayed. The viewer is then able to empathise with characters that in actuality, are repugnant humans who commit morally corrupt actions for their own personal gain.

Tarantino also frequently uses swearing within his dialogue, initially providing shock value for the viewer, but it soon becomes clear that the profanity merely acts as a device that relaxes the viewer into the rhythm of the film. It provides for more naturalistic character interactions and contributes to the slick nature of the dialogue. Frequent pop culture references also appear throughout the dialogue of Tarantino’s films, references which provide a level of satisfaction and relatability for the viewer. For example, within Pulp Fiction (1994), bands such as Kool and the Gang, and TV shows such as Green Acres are name dropped. Despite being frequently observable throughout Tarantino’s films, these pop culture references occur swiftly instant, and do not detract from the flow of the film.

Stylised violence is another motif that contributes to Tarantino’s status as an auteur. Throughout his films, Tarantino often implements hyper-violence for two main purposes: light-hearted comedy and exhilarating or subversive set-pieces. An example of violence used in a comedic sense is during the infamous “I shot Marvin in the face” scene from Pulp Fiction. Marvin’s sudden death is ridiculously exaggerated and completely unexpected, creating one of the film’s funniest moments through the subversive use of gratuitous gore. Conversely, graphic violence is used during Vincent’s untimely death at the hands of Butch to make the scene more subversive and shocking – the gore reinforces that one of the main protagonists of the film is indeed dead.

Chaptering is a narrative technique often utilised by Tarantino throughout his filmography, providing structural compartmentalisation. Throughout Pulp Fiction, chapters are used to clearly define specific sections of the film. Through this, the film possesses a distinctively episodic flow to the narrative – the film tells three clear-cut yet interwoven storylines that are presented in a highly nonlinear fashion, each being signalled by the use chapter title cards. Through this, Tarantino creates some truly subversive moments, such as Vincent’s aforementioned death which occurs in the middle of the film. At this point, the viewer is so engrossed within Butch’s chapter in the film, that the idea of Vincent being behind the bathroom door doesn’t even cross the mind of the viewer – making his untimely death all the more unexpected.

The soundtrack of each and every one of Tarantino’s films are highly prolific and contribute to his rank as an auteur. Tarantino strives to acquire an eclectic compiled score for each film, usually made up of music from the 1960s and 70s which provide an potent evocation of the respective decades. Through this, Tarantino often brings long-forgotten deep cuts of the time period into the spotlight of the modern day, and revitalises their legacy. A clear example of this can be seen within Dick Dale’s 1962 surf rock cover of Misirlou, which is now synonymous with the opening titles of Pulp Fiction.

Another unconventional technique employed throughout Pulp Fiction is postmodernism – a term closely associated with Tarantino’s body of work, often making romanticised references to aesthetics that fuel his creative inspirations. Within Pulp Fiction, this idea can be seen through Butch selecting a katana as his weapon of choice, harkening back to Tarantino’s fascination towards the films of Akira Kurosawa. The Jack Rabbit Slim’s diner pays homage to the pop culture of the 1950s – oozing with the style of the decade and displaying cultural icons such as Marilyn Monroe and Buddy Holly. Tarantino has also created a fictional brand of cigarettes (Red Apple) and burger (Big Kahuna) that appear throughout the film, with this perhaps being Tarantino’s way of light-heartedly acknowledging the postmodernist culture that his filmography is associated with. Tarantino is also a very traditional filmmaker, always opting for the use of 70mm celluloid film, despite the benefits of digital filmmaking.

Another auterial trait of Tarantino is his tendency to revitalise the careers of actors who were generally associated with playing certain types of roles in the past. For example, audiences were surprised to see the return of John Travolta – an actor of the 1970s regarded as a handsome heartthrob – cast as Vincent Vega, a charismatic yet corrupt hitman, in Pulp Fiction. Furthering this, a number of racial epithets are also prominent within the dialogue of the film, but this isn’t considered to be exploitative due to Tarantino’s conceptual footing. He instead uses these stereotypes to create strong black characters, such as Jules and Marsellus, who play a hitman and mob boss respectively – two highly dominant forces to be reckoned with.

Component 2d: Experimental Film 1960-2000 (Narrative)

Explore how far your chosen film or films are experimental in challenging conventional approaches to narrative.
Sample Assessment Materials, 2021

Plan:

Introduction

Establish the conventions of narrative (three act structure, chronology, linearity) and introduce the theorists (Propp, Todorov etc). Contextualise the work of Tarantino (Reservoir Dogs – a low budget crime thriller set in one location etc). Pulp Fiction is an experimental and postmodernist film, considered by many to be his magnum opus. It subverts the tropes of conventional narrative structure to provide a unique and refreshing experience.

Body

Narrative structure: Takes elements from linear, circular, and episodic narrative structures to tell three interconnected stories in a vastly nonlinear fashion. Three act structure present in each chapter.

Dialogue – seemingly trivial monologues, pop culture references. Flowing rhythm facilitated by dialogue. Link to the film’s pacing.

Narrative viewpoint – fluidly shifts focus onto different characters and frames them as the protagonist at different points (Pumpkin and Honey Bunny in the prologue, Jules and Vincent during the epilogue. Shifts to Mia during overdose scene)

Narrative devices: title cards, chaptering, audience positioning (enjoying being in the company of immoral characters, characterises initially archetypal and cliched characters. Zed and Maynard framed as antagonists)

Briefly references theories and theorists throughout.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Tarantino challenges the typical approaches to narrative in a wide variety of ways throughout Pulp Fiction. Taking elements of the three types of narrative structure, Tarantino presents three distinct chapters to us in a nonlinear fashion. This, alongside other experimental narrative techniques such as narrative viewpoint, audience positioning, and ellipsis, the film is a wholly unique viewing experience, providing a refreshing pastiche of pulpy crime stories, ultimately garnering a revered status among all of cinema.

Essay – Version 1

A vital keystone of filmmaking is the overarching concept of narrative – the general flow of story information constructed by the plot. The vast majority of films typically conform to an array of preconceived narrative conventions, including: a rigid three act structure, a chronological plot, as well as the use of narrative techniques such as prolepsis, analepsis, and ellipsis. Many literary theorists, such as Vladimir Propp (who theorised the seven types of character) and Tzvetan Todorov (who formulated the Equilibrium Theory) also support these ideas, fervently stating that a narrative should be constructed in a particular way. Pulp Fiction (Quentin Tarantino, 1994) was released as the follow-up to Reservoir Dogs, a low-budget crime thriller that plays with the conventions of a typical narrative. Tarantino’s second film is widely considered by many to be his magnum opus, being classified as both postmodernist and experimental in nature, particularly in a narrative sense. Throughout the film, Tarantino subverts the traditional conventions of narrative created by the aforementioned theorists, by utilising the pre-established narrative techniques in a variety of unorthodox ways, ultimately creating a refreshing and unique experience.

One way in which Tarantino challenges the conventions of narrative is within the structure of the film. The events that occur throughout the film are a pastiche of pulpy stories of the crime genre. Tarantino immediately informs us of this through the use of a title card, which displays the two definitions of “pulp”. The first meaning is “a soft, moist, shapeless mass of matter”, perhaps hinting at the shapeless and nonlinear narrative structure of the film. The second definition, “a magazine or book containing lurid subject matter and being characteristically printed on rough, unfinished paper” on the other hand, is suggestive of the titular ‘pulp fiction’ that exudes throughout. The events and characters are both highly archetypal and cliched, and this idea is immediately suggested to the viewer through the utilisation of this unconventional title card.

The story of the film is relatively simple, with the film containing four episodic chapters with interconnected characters and events. On the other hand, the plot of the film is constructed in a highly nonlinear and convoluted manner. Although each chapter itself has a linear structure, the order in which it is shown to the viewer is non-chronological. This fragmentation of the plot creates an underlying sense of anticipation, with the viewer awaiting the repercussions of the non-chronological events due to the fact that they witness the events out of order. The narrative structure of the film could also be classed as circular, due to the film being bookended by the diner robbery sequence. Through this, Tarantino has taken elements from all three types of narrative (linear, circular, and episodic) in order to create a wholly unique and experimental narrative structure.

Each chapter of the film is signalled by an intertitle, and also loosely follows the aforementioned three act structure. For example, during The Gold Watch chapter, Act 1 displays Butch being paid by Marsellus to throw his next fight, Act 2 begins with the sequence in which Butch returns to his apartment, finally concluding with Act 3 in which Butch saves Marsellus and returns to Fabienne. By only displaying fragmented acts of the multiple storylines in a jumbled succession, Tarantino subverts the viewer’s preconceived expectations of what a typical narrative structure entails, ultimately forging a unique and satisfying viewing experience in the process.

Another way in which Tarantino challenges the conventions of a typical narrative is through his use of dialogue and pacing, facilitating audience positioning in different ways throughout Pulp Fiction. The dialogue throughout the film is densely packed, containing lots more than the average film. The characters engage in seemingly trivial monologues, concerning frivolous topics such as burgers, TV pilots, and foot massages. The dialogue is also with peppered with pop culture references to branded items such as the Big Mac, bands like Kool and the Gang, and TV shows such as Green Acres. The dialogue is entertaining and enjoyable to listen to, despite the fact that it does not drive the plot forward in any way. Through this, each of the characters that initially appear to be one-noted and archetypal are thus humanised and are presented in a more charismatic light.

The viewer is encouraged to enjoy being in the company of Vincent and Jules, who in actuality, are two highly repugnant gangsters who kill people for money. Through the use of dialogue, Tarantino presents the pair as a witty and charismatic duo. The viewer is prompted to sympathise with an array of despicable characters who we initially wouldn’t. Conversely, characters such as Zed and Maynard are positioned as antagonistic forces during Butch’s story, despite perhaps being no worse than the protagonists that we root for.

Another unconventional narrative technique employed by Tarantino also involves fluidly shifting focus onto specific characters at specific times, briefly framing them as the ‘protagonist’, if only for a moment. For example, we subconsciously root for Pumpkin and Honey Bunny during the prologue, as they are the only characters we are aware of at the very start of the film. Conversely, the viewer is encouraged to support Jules and Vincent during the epilogue, as the couple are now subtly framed as the antagonists of the scene. It could be argued that Claude Levi-Strauss’ theory of binary opposition is now present within the reprise of the scene, creating a sense of suspense and tension. The focus often shifts seamlessly without the viewer noticing, an example being when the shift focuses from Vincent onto Mia when they return to the apartment, initiating the sequence in which she overdoses on heroin. This technique of narrative viewpoint also creates for some highly shocking and subversive moments, including Vincent’s sudden death at the hands of Butch. At this point, the viewer is so engrossed within Butch’s chapter in the film, that the idea of Vincent being behind the bathroom door doesn’t even cross the mind of the viewer – making his untimely death all the more unexpected.

In conclusion, Tarantino challenges the typical approaches to narrative in a wide variety of ways throughout Pulp Fiction. Taking elements from all three types of narrative, Tarantino presents three distinct chapters to us in a nonlinear fashion. This, alongside other aforementioned experimental narrative techniques such as narrative viewpoint, audience positioning, and pacing, the film’s narrative offers a truly unique viewing experience. Tarantino provides a refreshing pastiche of pulpy crime stories, ultimately garnering Pulp Fiction’s revered status among all of cinema.

Component 2b: Documentary Film (Digital Technology)

“Portable, digital cameras, digital sound recording equipment and non-linear digital editing have had a very significant impact on documentary film.” How far has digital technology had an impact on your chosen documentary film?
Sample Assessment Materials, 2021

Introduction: The significance of digital technology generally, how it has affected filmmaking.

Body: How Kim Longinotto has utilised digital technology in order to create an unobtrusive observational documentary.

Described examples: Opening wide shot, able to film everything (‘favouriting’ footage, revealing moments “that’s what you men do”), portability (small and can conduct spontaneity panning, tilting, zooming. Swift and fluid movements), autofocus, natural lighting, no external sound equipment, multi-camera setup (cameras are cheap, two sides of the law – divorce sequence, storage is cheap and limitless, no cartridge swapping), non-directional microphone. Authentic long takes in Manka and divorce sequence, Manka scars, changing outcome of trial.

Conclusion

Essay – Version 1

The implementation of digital technology has had a vast impact upon filmmakers. Due to digital technology: cameras are much cheaper to purchase, editing is no longer permanent and films are much more widely available to general audiences. More specifically, the impact of digital technology has also greatly affected the documentary filmmaking scene in a multitude of beneficial ways. A great example of this can be seen within Sisters in Law (Kim Longinotto, 2005), in which Kim Longinotto employed the use of digital technology throughout the production process in order to produce an unobtrusive observational documentary.

The film opens on an establishing wide shot of the outskirts of Kumba, Cameroon. Due to the fact that this is filmed using a digital handheld camera out of a car window, Longinotto is able to make use of the built-in digital stabilisation. This allows the shot to be of a high quality and suitable for the cinema, despite the fact that it was filmed in a moving vehicle. This also demonstrates the fact it is not a requirement to be an expert cinematographer in order to operate a digital camera – democratising documentary filmmaking. Due to digital storage being extremely cheap and practically limitless, is likely that Longinotto filmed out of the window for an extended period of time. Afterwards, the take was likely edited together in post-production, through the apt use of digital non-linear editing software to demonstrate her journey into the village.

As Longinotto has the ability to film everything she encounters in Kumba, she is able to ‘favourite’ specific clips during the production process. As a result, she is able to start the editing process earlier and capture and display a number of revealing moments within the documentary. An example of this can be seen in the opening sequence when Vera Ngassa, the state prosecutor, exclaims “that’s what you men do!” to the husband of a wife seeking legal support. The lightweight and portable nature of the camera also allows Longinotto to conduct an extremely reactive style of filmmaking, letting her fluidly pan, tilt and zoom the camera as she deems appropriate. The digital autofocus feature is also utilised throughout the sequence, an example being when Longinotto swiftly zooms in on a closeup of Vera. The shot is out of focus for a brief unnoticeable moment, but the autofocus soon activates and the closeup is in perfect focus.

During the Manka sequence, when the aunt is summoned for questioning, Longinotto is able to initially zoom in on a closeup of the her, and then later zoom out to reveal a three-shot: displaying the aunt, Stephen and Manka. This demonstrates the digital camera’s ability to smoothly reposition a frame. Alongside this, due to the camera being so unobtrusive, no one is fazed by its presence – including young Manka herself. Unlike an imposing celluloid camera, this allows the events of the documentary to occur in a much more authentic manner. The digital camera is also able to exhibit the scars on Manka’s back, despite the dim lighting of the cramped office.

Throughout Sisters in Law, Longinotto’s use of digital sound recording is a much more convenient and intuitive process due to the fact no obtrusive equipment – such as external sound recorders or boom poles – are required. Instead, all the sound is captured and recorded with the use of a subtle non-directional microphone, and the requirement to synchronise sound in post-production is nullified. This makes the editing process much more efficient in effect. As digital cameras are much cheaper than analogue, Longinotto is able to afford a multi-camera setup, employing a co-director: Florence Ayisi. The setup is extremely useful in separating the two sides of the law in the divorce sequence, as well as providing good coverage of the courtroom. One camera is positioned in the corner of the room, whereas the other is stably positioned behind the couple, framing a two-shot. As Longinotto is not limited by storage, she is able to aptly utilise a variety of long takes throughout the Manka and divorce sequences. Despite the implementation of light editing to compress events, this makes the documentary seem much more authentic.

With particular focus on digital cameras, digital recording software and non-linear editing, Longinotto has intuitively utilised digital technology in a number of ways throughout the production of Sisters in Law in order to produce an uninterrupted observational documentary. Being extremely cost-efficient and accessible, digital technology has successfully democratised documentary filmmaking and positively impacted the medium as a whole.

Essay – Version 2

The film opens on an establishing wide shot of the outskirts of Kumba, Cameroon. Due to the fact that this is filmed using a digital handheld camera out of a car window, Longinotto is able to make use of digital image stabilisation. This allows the shot to be of a high quality and suitable for the cinema, despite the fact that it was filmed in a moving vehicle. This also demonstrates the fact it is not a requirement to be an expert cinematographer in order to operate a digital camera – democratising documentary filmmaking. Due to digital storage being extremely cheap and practically limitless, is likely that Longinotto filmed out of the window for an extended period of time. Afterwards, the take was likely edited together in post-production, through the apt use of digital non-linear editing software to demonstrate her journey into the village.

As Longinotto has the ability to film everything she encounters in Kumba, she is able to ‘favourite’ specific clips during the production process. As a result, she is able to start the editing process earlier and capture and display a number of revealing moments within the documentary. An example of this can be seen in the opening sequence when Vera Ngassa, the state prosecutor, exclaims “that’s what you men do!” to the husband of a wife seeking legal support. The lightweight and portable nature of the camera also allows Longinotto to conduct an extremely reactive style of filmmaking, letting her fluidly pan, tilt and zoom the camera as she deems appropriate. For example, she frequently pans the camera in the opening sequence between Vera and the couple depending on who is speaking, which is reminiscent of eyes following a conversation. The digital autofocus feature is also utilised throughout the sequence, an example being when Longinotto swiftly zooms in on a closeup of Vera. The shot is out of focus for a brief unnoticeable moment, but the autofocus soon activates and the closeup is in perfect focus.

During the Manka sequence, when the aunt is summoned for questioning, Longinotto is able to initially zoom in on a closeup of the her, and then later zoom out to reveal a three-shot: displaying the aunt, Stephen and Manka. This demonstrates the digital camera’s ability to smoothly reposition a frame. Alongside this, due to the camera being so unobtrusive, no one is fazed by its presence – including young Manka herself. Unlike an imposing celluloid camera, this allows the events of the documentary to occur in a much more authentic manner. The digital camera is also able to capture a closeup of Manka’s back, which exhibits the scars inflicted by her abusive aunt, despite the dim lighting of the cramped office.

As digital cameras are much cheaper than analogue, Longinotto is able to afford a multi-camera setup, employing a co-director: Florence Ayisi. The setup is extremely useful in separating the two sides of the law in the divorce sequence, as well as providing good coverage of the courtroom. One camera is positioned in the corner of the room, whereas the other is stably positioned behind the couple, framing a two-shot. As Longinotto is not limited by storage, she is able to aptly utilise a variety of long takes throughout the Manka and divorce sequences. Digital editing is no longer destructive, meaning that Longinotto is able to freely edit the takes together in a non-obtrusive manner. Because of this, light editing is employed throughout the film in order to compress events and form a natural transition between sequences.

Component 2b: Documentary Film (Filmmakers’ Theories)

How far does your chosen documentary demonstrate elements of one or more filmmaker’s theories you have studied?
Autumn 2020

Introduction: Defined as a film that uses pictures or interviews with people involved in real events to provide a factual report on a particular subject, it can be difficult to pinpoint what a documentary exactly is. Bill Nichols, a documentary theorist, has argued that all films fall into one of two categories of documentary – being wish fulfilment and social representation. The latter of which can be further categorised into one of Nichols’ six ‘modes’ of documentary, including: expository, observational, participatory, performative, poetic and reflexive.

Even still, the vast majority of documentaries blur the line between modes and can be easily argued to be categorised under more than one. A clear example of this is The War Game (Peter Watkins, 1965) which can be classified in particular as an observational or participatory documentary. These filmmakers such as the aforementioned Peter Watkins, as well as those such as Michael Moore and Nick Brookfield, are attempting to create a wholly unique and intriguing documentary. Therefore, their aims involve preventing their films from being categorised under a flawed, preconceived system created by a single person.

Section 1: Introduce Kim Longinotto and her style. Reference her ideologies and theories.

Observational, Cinema verite, “would like to watch herself”, “feels very uncomfortable asking people to do things”, panning over cuts, Aaton Super-16 camera over digital technology (acts as the cinematographer and camera operator).

Section 2: Introduce Sisters in Law.

Handheld, long-takes, opening score is the only non-diegetic sound, temporal editing, tilts, subtitles, editing compresses events, zooming (Vera and Manka), priorities authenticity over aesthetics, two shots separates the law, reactionary shots, domestic life separations, over-the-shoulder (Amina), gender inequality (observational documentary is successful), playing up to the camera (aunt and council)

Conclusion

Essay – Version 1

Defined as a film that uses pictures or interviews with people involved in real events to provide a factual report on a particular subject, it can be difficult to pinpoint what a documentary exactly is. Bill Nichols, a documentary theorist, has argued that all films fall into one of two categories of documentary: wish fulfilment and social representation. The latter of which can be further categorised into one of Nichols’ six ‘modes’ of documentary, including: expository, observational, participatory, performative, poetic and reflexive.

Even still, the vast majority of documentaries blur the line between modes and can be easily argued to be categorised under more than one. A clear example of this is The War Game (Peter Watkins, 1965) which can be classified in particular as an observational or participatory documentary. These filmmakers such as the aforementioned Peter Watkins, as well as those such as Michael Moore and Nick Broomfield, are attempting to create a wholly unique and intriguing documentary. Therefore, their aims involve preventing their films from being categorised under a flawed, preconceived system created by a single person.

Despite this, a number of documentarians’ work can indeed be categorised under a single mode of documentary, one example being Kim Longinotto. Known for making observational documentaries that spread awareness of discriminatory oppression towards women, Longinotto has stated that “real life is often more surprising and extraordinary than we can imagine”. Incoporating the cinéma vérité style of filmmaking into her films, Longinotto attempts to create films that she “would like to watch” herself. Her films are characterised by an authentic, uninterrupted portrayal of events which supports her ideology of believing that films should not explicitly state what the viewer should think and feel over the course of the film. This juxtaposes the styles of documentarians such as Michael Moore, who establishes an extremely noticeable and cynical presence throughout each of his films.

Throughout her films, Longinotto prefers to pan the camera rather than use cuts when a new person begins to talk. This places the viewer within the “eyes” of the camera and establishes a much more authentic and apparent perspective. Although she can never be seen in her documentaries, Longinotto acts as the cinematographer and camera operator for each of her films. Because of this, she shoots each of her films with an Aaton Super-16 model stating that she “loves the steadiness” of it. Often employing only one other co-director, it is important for her to film with a camera that she is extremely familiar and comfortable with.

One film that best demonstrates the filmmaking theories of Kim Longinotto is Sisters in Law (2005). Throughout the film, Longinotto employs the key elements of film form in a wide variety of ways in order to produce an unobtrusive and authentic observational documentary.

Firstly, Longinotto employs the use of her aforementioned Aaton Super-16 handheld camera throughout the duration of the film. This can initially be seen in the opening shot of the film – a wide shot out of a car window that exhibits the rural, poverty-stricken landscape of Kumba, Cameroon. The use of a handheld camera without a tripod is perhaps used due to the fact that it is less conspicuous than a tripod. In theory, the subjects’ actions portrayed throughout the documentary will be more genuine because of this, demonstrating Longinotto’s theory of authenticity. Throughout this long take, a non-diegetic score is present in the mix – a plucked acoustic guitar that evokes a sense of pastoral imagery. After the score gradually lowers in the mix, the diegetic ambience of Kumba enters.

From this point forward, every sound in the mix is both diegetic and recorded on set. Alongside this, the lighting is all naturally captured and is merely a reflection of reality. All of the mise-en-scène found within each scene is naturally occurring in order to display an entirely authentic depiction of the scenarios. Alongside this, no contextual information is explicitly stated to the viewer – supporting Longinotto’s aforementioned statement about implicit information. After an apt use of temporal editing to demonstrate the journey into the village, Longinotto employs her first of many uses of camera panning. Acting as the proxy for the viewer, the pan exhibits the view of the rural setting. Alongside this, panning is used to focus on each subject as they begin to talk, replicating the notion of eyes following a conversation.

Within the village, Longinotto utilises a number of spontaneous camera movements – tracking subjects by tilting the camera up and down. Scenes are mostly captured with a two camera setup, operated by Longinotto herself, as well as co-director Florence Ayisi. Thus, each scenario can be captured by two opposing angles and cut together by Longinotto in post-production. During a court meeting between Vera Ngassa (the state prosecutor) and a couple, Longinotto employs the zoom feature in real time to focus in on a closeup of Vera. Due to autofocus taking effect, the footage briefly goes out of focus before refocusing on the closeup. This demonstrates to us Longinotto’s ideological priority of accuracy and authenticity over aesthetic perfection.

Each legal case is interspersed with brief, ambient scenes which display domestic life within the village. Throughout these, Longinotto will typically film in a single location and capture each and every event that occurs, even seemingly trivial scenarios. In effect, this implicitly contextualises the setting and cultural characteristics of the Cameroonian village of Kumba. This demonstrates her theory of capturing “real life” throughout her unassuming style of filmmaking.

Zooms are often used throughout the film, another example being during the Manka Sequence in which Longinotto zooms in on a young girl’s wounds. Through this, a high-angle closeup is created which exhibits the scars and wounds she possesses. This subtle example of camera manipulation instills empathy within the viewer and reinforces Manka’s vulnerability. Longinotto also separates the two sides of the law by cutting between a three-shot of Stephen, Manka and the aunt, and a mid-closeup of Vera which is captured by the second camera. This apt use of editing is noticeable to the viewer, but unobtrusive to the portrayal of events. During the confrontation, the camera also occasionally focuses on the reaction of the subject being spoken to, rather than the person speaking. Through this reactionary shot equivalent, the viewer is able to soak in each of the subject’s live reactions to the events that occur. During the aunt’s panic-stricken rebuttal, Longinotto utilises a closeup on her face. Through this, it becomes clear to the viewer that the aunt is playing up to the camera. Her exaggerated crocodile tears and frantic justifications purports a sense of vulnerability, but the viewer is likely able to see through this due to Longinotto’s intelligent camerawork.

This instance of the camera having a direct impact on events can also be seen within the Divorce Sequence. After the divorce is granted to Amina by the council who almost exiled her from the country, the man now noticeably plays up to the camera, stating that “that’s what Cameroon wants! We don’t want problems”. Vera’s prior empowerment over the abusive aunt juxtaposed with the oppression faced by Amina within this sequence epitomises the different roles in society held by women that Longinotto endeavours to bring to light.

In conclusion, Kim Longinotto’s filmmaking theories, employed throughout Sisters in Law, can be characterised at its core, by her proactive avoidance of intervention which is typically found throughout other documentaries. For example, if Nick Broomfield or Louis Theroux had made this film, their respective strong characters would be felt across the duration of the film. In the case of Longinotto, Sisters in Law’s approach allows for a much more subtle and thoughtful viewing experience, in which the viewer is able to draw their own conclusions through Longinotto’s implicit manner of filmmaking.

Essay – Version 2

Defined as a film that uses pictures or interviews with people involved in real events to provide a factual report on a particular subject, it can be difficult to pinpoint what a documentary exactly is. Documentary theorist Bill Nichols’ six ‘modes’ of documentary can be used to categorise each and every documentary under a particular division.

Even still, the vast majority of documentaries blur the line between modes. A clear example of this is The War Game (Peter Watkins, 1965) which could be classified under more than one mode. This is because Watkins and other documentarians such as Michael Moore and Nick Broomfield are attempting to create a wholly unique and intriguing documentary. Their aims involve preventing their films from being categorised under a flawed and narrow-minded system.

Despite this, a number of documentarians’ work can indeed be categorised under a single mode of documentary, one example being Kim Longinotto. Known for making observational documentaries that spread awareness of discriminatory oppression towards women, Longinotto has stated that “real life is often more surprising and extraordinary than we can imagine”. Incoporating the cinéma vérité style of filmmaking into her films, Longinotto attempts to create films that she “would like to watch” herself. Her films are characterised by an uninterrupted portrayal of events which supports her ideology of believing that films should not explicitly state what the viewer should think and feel.

Firstly, Longinotto employs the use of a handheld camera throughout the duration of the film. This can initially be seen in the opening shot of the film – a wide shot out of a car window that exhibits the rural, poverty-stricken landscape of Kumba, Cameroon. The use of a handheld camera without a tripod is perhaps used due to the fact that it is less conspicuous than a tripod. In theory, the subjects’ actions portrayed throughout the documentary will be more genuine because of this, demonstrating Longinotto’s theory of authenticity. Throughout this long take, a non-diegetic score is present in the mix – a plucked acoustic guitar that evokes a sense of pastoral imagery. After the score gradually lowers in the mix, the diegetic ambience of Kumba enters.

Wild Tales: Representations

How far do each of the films you have studied represent key characters in ways that reinforce or challenge the audience’s expectations?
Autumn 2020

Introduction:

Throughout the “Wedding Sequence” of the film, characters such as Romina and Ariel are represented in ways that reinforce stereotypical gender roles. As well as this, characters are used to represent the underlying theme of superficiality that is reinforced throughout the tale. In order to do this, Szifron implements the key elements of film form in a variety of ways to reinforce the characters in ways that both challenge and reinforce the viewer’s expectations.

Cinematography:

Young Romina (frame within frame), various two-shots and long shots of well-dressed guests,

Single shot tracks couple, centrally framed Romina, photo frame, pushes into Romina’s changing expression, zoom in on Lourdes, Romina isolated in frame (harsh lighting), mirror shot

Focus pulls, centrally framed imposing shot

Tight focus on couple, shallow depth of field, shot/reverse shots (unsynchronised), Dutch angle

POV shot of distraught guests, unflattering low-angle, handheld camera, birds-eye-view

Low-angle of Romina (upper hand), wide shot of chef, handheld camera displays unhinged guests, two-shots create desperation

Sound:

Titanium

Ringing phone, dialogue, breathing

Blue Danube juxtaposes Romina’s state of mind, rises as they touch hands

Lighting and wind (pathetic fallacy),

Dramatic score, exclusive diegetic sound later on, gunshot tease

Mise-en-scène:

Red curtain, stereotypical bride and groom outfit, immaculate hair, scruffy Ariel

Lourdes’ dress, Romina disheveled appearance

Green lighting, pathetic fallacy

Romina at most disheveled, blood on dress

Hollow motions, removal of hair extension

Editing:

Parallel editing (couple face opposite directions)

Longer focus on Romina

Shot/reverse shot between Romina and chef, glance object, alternating edit, cross cutting

Performance:

Superficial happiness, over-zealousness foreshadows infidelity, artificial friendly gestures between guests

Women scream, men act boisterously, Ariel looks at camera

Ostensible smiles, Romina’s fake smile, Facebook, jealousy seed

Ariel acts flirtatiously, mirror assessment, alcohol, Ariel’s darting eyes

Trembling voice, anger, throwing up

Artificially calm, sarcasm, Ariel’s true emotions – speaks genuinely

Essay – Version 1

The sequence begins with a projected closeup of a young Romina, creating a centrally positioned frame within a frame. This establishes Romina as the central protagonist and subtly focuses the viewer‘s attention onto her throughout the duration of the tale. Afterwards, we cut to a two shot of a wealthy couple at a table, displaying the light-heartedness of the event and reinforcing the viewer’s expectations of an opulent wedding. The diegetic compiled score, Titanium, further lightens the mood and pulsates throughout the reception. Being representative of strength and overcoming hardships, the carefully selected song choice ironically foreshadows Romina’s unpredictable actions. This ultimately challenges the viewer’s preconceived expectations of a grand wedding.

Romina and Ariel enter the reception through theatrical red curtain, which subtly suggests to the viewer that their relationship is merely a façade – challenging their expectations. Romina’s current purity is represented by a stereotypical white wedding dress and immaculate, whereas Ariel’s uncaring demeanour is represented through his scruffy, unshaven appearance. This perhaps reinforces the viewer’s expectations of a wedding being a ‘more feminine’ event.

As a single tracking shot follows the couple backwards, Romina is centrally framed which reinforces her as the protagonist. During this, the couple put on an extremely over-zealous façade by smiling and waving at each of the affluent guests they pass by. This suggests and foreshadows the couple’s infidelity towards each other, challenging the viewer’s expectations. As the two separate to join their respective friends and families, an example of parallel editing is implemented, reinforcing their distant relationship. To further accentuate this, the couple face opposing directions between the parallel edits. During the dance floor scene, the guests conform to stereotypical gender roles. The groups of women scream while the men act boisterously, which reinforces the viewer’s expectations of male and female stereotypes. As we see the setting from the camera’s perspective, Ariel looks directly at the camera which emphasises his artificial demeanour.

We then cut to a wide shot of the guests framed like a photo, during which each of the guests smile ostensibly – suggesting that no one truly wishes to attend. Alongside this, Romina also fakes a smile as she converses with one of the guests, clearly demonstrating her disinterest towards the conversation. The topic of Facebook is often mentioned throughout the conversation, reinforcing the superficiality the wedding represents.

As Romina begins to notice someone in the reception that she doesn’t know, the camera pushes into Romina’s changing expression to display her confusion. In response to this, the camera proceeds to zoom into the unknown woman as Ariel leans over to flirtatiously converse with Lourdes – foreshadowing their secret relationship. This uncommon technique is aptly utilised in order to divert the viewer’s attention towards her. Lourdes wears a black dress and has a star tattoo, attributing a sense of elegance and mystery to her character. As Romina’s heavy breathing rises in the mix, she briefly assesses herself in the mirror. This suggests to the viewer that Romina is questioning her own identity. After she learns the truth, Romina resorts to alcohol as a coping mechanism to recover from her distraught state of mind. This challenges the viewer’s expectations of what typically occurs at a wedding and raises the tension of the scene.

As Ariel and Romina begin to dance, the camera remains tightly focused on the couple in order to keep the viewer’s attention focused exclusively on the couple. The depth of field is extremely shallow to reinforce this. A sequence of shot/reverse shots occur as one person reacts to what the other is saying, informing the viewer of their respective state of minds. We also spend a longer amount of time focused on Romina, positioning the viewer to empathise with the protagonist to a higher degree. The implementation of a typically romantic complied score, The Blue Danube, ironically juxtaposes Romina’s chaotic state of mind, rising in the mix as the couple touches hands. After the heated conversation concludes, a Dutch angle is used to display Romina angrily storming off – signifying that her world is falling apart. In response to this, Ariel’s eyes dart around the room which implies that he is still attempting to maintain his reputable persona – challenging the viewer’s prior expectation of him as an uncaring groom.

Following this, there is a POV shot from Ariel’s perspective which displays an array of distraught guests, demonstrating their unfiltered emotions. As Romina heads for the roof, an unflattering low-angle shot of Romina tracks her unpredictable movements, exemplifying her anxiety. Her appearance is extremely disheveled and her makeup is ruined, reinforcing her raw emotions. A handheld camera is also used to illustrate Ariel’s distress as he pursues her.

As Romina reaches the top of the building, a birds-eye-view shot displays the colossal height of the building. Through this, the viewer is teased of the possibility of her jumping off as she leans over the edge. The pace of editing proceeds to slow to a halt as the chef offers his advice to Romina, incorporating a shot/reverse shot sequence between the pair. Ariel continues to run up the stairs to pursue Romina, during which the walls are illuminated with green lighting which is representative of the characters’ jealousy towards one another. During the confrontation, the narrative device of pathetic fallacy is utilised, incorporating thunder and lightning into the setting which is reflective of Romina’s irate feelings towards Ariel. Romina’s unhinged anger is further accentuated by an edit that alternates between an over-the-shoulder shot which displays Romina’s full figure, a three-quarter closeup of Romina as well as a reactionary shot of Ariel.

Afterwards, a low-angle shot of Romina displays her striding into the ballroom as a dramatic score emphatically enters the mix, informing the viewer that she has gained the upper hand. She remains artificially calm in order to maintain her façade of perfection. Alongside this, a wide shot demonstrates the chef’s humiliation as word of the rooftop events begin to spread. Here, Romina is at her most disheveled – her appearance is fully unhinged and the blood on her dress symbolises that her prior purity is eradicated. The removal of her hair extension represents her final stage of degeneration, challenging the viewer’s initial expectation of her. Finally, the sound becomes exclusively diegetic to underpin the sincerity of Ariel’s consoling words towards Romina. He speaks transparently and genuinely, indicating to the viewer that his persona of perfection has finally been abolished.

In conclusion, Damián Szifron aptly utilises the key elements of film form throughout the wedding sequence in order to represent the characters in ways that both challenge and reinforce the viewer’s preconceived expectations. These include the presentation of stereotypical gender roles as well as the exposure of the superficial façades the characters possess.

Wild Tales: Aesthetics

Discuss how aesthetics are used to communicate themes in your two chosen films. Make detailed reference to particular sequences in your answer.
Summer 2019

Introduction:

Wild Tales (Damián Szifron, 2014) is an Argentinian comedy/drama of the portmanteau genre. The film contains six short ‘tales’ which are all connected by the thematic concepts of revenge, catharsis and vengeance. The aesthetic of my chosen sequence, The Wedding, is one of opulence and superficiality. Szifron illustrates this to the viewer through a wide variety of techniques, aptly incorporating the key elements of film form to communicate the aforementioned themes.

Sequence: Wedding Sequence

Cinematography:

Various shots of guests (two-shot, crabbing), long shot displays chandeliers, handheld camera, theatrical entryway

Single tracking shot, joyful glide, tuba closeups, multiple cameras, photo framing

Harsh lighting on Romina (vengeful), mirror shot, Low-angle imposing shot of Romina

Shallow depth of field, Dutch angle, disorienting door attachment, frontal low angle shot, more handheld

Birds-eye-view of building, shallow depth of field, romantic lighting juxtaposition

Shaky camera movements, harsh lighting juxtaposes prior opulence, more Dutch angles display chaos

Camera rig creates dizziness, two shots create desperation

Sound:

Titanium

Traditional upbeat music

Blue Danube

Mise-en-scène:

Red background, flashing lights, smoke machines, golden chandeliers, disco balls

Theatrical red curtain, pure white wedding dress, Romina’s immaculate hair, Ariel’s scruffy appearance

Lourdes’ mysterious appearance, Romina’s disheveled appearance

Green walls, pathetic fallacy

Smashed mirror, blood on dress, unkempt guests

Enacting motions of wedding, removal of hair extension

Editing:

Slideshow cut to beat, parallel editing (opposing directions)

Pace of editing quickens, fake camera interface, lower quality stock

Jump cuts, door matches end of score, parallel editing

Slow pace during roof scene, glance object on shoe, alternating edit during anger, cross cutting

Essay – Version 1

Wild Tales (Damián Szifron, 2014) is an Argentinian comedy/drama of the portmanteau genre. The film contains six short ‘tales’ which are all connected by the thematic concepts of revenge, superficiality and danger. The aesthetic of my chosen sequence, The Wedding, is one of opulence and artifice. Szifron illustrates this to the viewer through a wide variety of techniques, aptly incorporating the key elements of film form to communicate the aforementioned themes.

The opening shot of the sequence displays a projected closeup image of Romina with a red background, signifying the later danger and peril of the wedding. The diegetic compiled score (Titanium) lightens the mood of the wedding and persistently pulsates throughout the reception, matching the speed of the slideshow. The song is representative of strength and overcoming hardships, ironically foreshadowing the later cathartic events of the wedding. The pace of editing quickens as the excitement builds towards the chorus of the song, with the frequency of cuts increasing. The camera then cuts to various two shots and crab shots of a multitude of wealthy guests enjoying themselves, reinforcing the opulent atmosphere the wedding presents to the viewer.

Throughout this, a wide variety of luxurious objects can be seen in the frame. These include flashing lights, smoke machines as well as an array of disco balls and golden chandeliers – all of which purport a sense of superficiality. The bride and groom enter the reception from behind a theatrical red curtain, suggesting that their relationship is merely a façade which reinforces the underlying theme of artificiality. Romina sports a stereotypically designed white wedding dress and veil, symbolising her current purity. Her hair is is also meticulously immaculate – both of these physical aspects become increasingly unkempt as the intensity of the situation increases. Conversely, Ariel’s appearance is relatively scruffy – he is unshaven on his wedding day, implying to the viewer that the wedding is unimportant to him.

A single tracking shot is used to follow the movements of the couple backwards, establishing them as the centre of the viewer’s attention. In addition to this, the camera begins to joyfully glide as the couple begins to dance, keeping Romina centrally framed and reinforcing the luxurious aesthetic of the wedding. Titanium is then interrupted by a live ensemble playing traditional, upbeat music in order to appropriately accompany the energetic atmosphere of the reception. The use of a multitude of cameras to focus on closeups of the instruments emphasises the superficially jovial atmosphere of the wedding. To further reinforce this, a fake camera interface is placed over the screen in tandem with a lower quality film stock in order to purport a sense of authenticity.

As Romina notices a unknown woman within the reception, the camera proceeds to zoom into Lourdes, the mysterious woman. This uncommon technique is aptly utilised in order to divert the viewer’s attention towards her. Lourdes wears a black dress and has a star tattoo – this distinctively elegant appearance hints to the viewer that she holds a great deal of importance to the story. Romina then becomes isolated in the frame as the lighting is harshly distributed upon her, reflecting her uncertain state of mind. To further reinforce this, the camera proceeds to track Romina, coming to rest on a mirror shot which implies a sense of self-questioning. After a variety of aptly implemented focus pulls, Szifron cuts back to a low-angle shot of a centrally-framed Romina which portrays her as extremely imposing.

As the newly wed couple begins to dance, the diegetic compiled score, The Blue Danube, enters the mix. The piece is reminiscent of a traditional wedding atmosphere but is also present in the likes of Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, instilling an ominous feeling within the viewer. As the couple touches hands, the dynamics of the score increase to heighten the tension of the situation. Afterwards, a disorienting Dutch angle displays Romina runs away from the reception during which her appearance is extremely disheveled and her makeup is ruined which reinforces the chaotic havoc of the wedding.

As Romina reaches the top of the building, a birds-eye-view shot displays the colossal height of the building. Through this, the viewer is teased of the possibility of her jumping off as she leans over the edge. A shallow depth of field is implemented during this scene to draw the viewer’s focus onto Romina alone. As the conversation between the chef and Romina ensues, a long shot is used to allow the chef to deliver his advice which slows the pace of the edit to a halt. There is also stark juxtaposition between the typical romantic aesthetic of the setting and the hectic events taking place.

As Ariel runs up the stairs to pursue Romina, the walls are illuminated with green lighting which symbolises the theme jealousy and betrayal presented throughout the sequence. In addition to this, Szifron utilises the narrative device of pathetic fallacy during the rooftop scene, incorporating thunder and lighting into the setting which reflects Romina’s irate feelings towards Ariel.

As we re-enter the ballroom, the camera movements become increasingly shaky to emphasise the chaotic atmosphere. The lighting is also extremely harsh which juxtaposes the previously established opulence of the reception. Alongside this, a multitude of Dutch angle tracking shots are implemented to illustrate the discombobulating chaos that is occurring. Romina then grabs Lourdes and the two begin to rapidly spin in circles. To convey the dizziness to the viewer, a camera rig is attached to the pair’s backs which is reflective of the tumultuous mood of the wedding.

As Romina throws Lourdes into the mirror, the appearance of smashed mirror heightens the utter pandemonium of the wedding. At this point, Romina is at her most disheveled – her appearance is fully unhinged which reinforces that this is the peak of turmoil. The removal of Romina’s hair extension represents her final stage of degeneration, encapsulating the themes of revenge and danger. Blood on her dress symbolises that Romina’s prior purity is abolished. Through this, the initial opulent atmosphere of the wedding is starkly contrasted.

In conclusion, Damián Szifron aptly utilises the key elements of film form throughout the wedding sequence of Wild Tales in order to create an opulent and superficial aesthetic. Through this, the underlying themes of revenge, betrayal and danger are astutely communicated to the viewer and an appropriately memorable experience is created.

Pan’s Labyrinth: Representations

How far do each of the films you have studied represent key characters in ways that reinforce or challenge the audience’s expectations?
Autumn 2020

Introduction

Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro, 2006) is a fantasy/war film. Being a passion project of the director, it is set in the summer of 1944 – five years after the Spanish Civil War. The presence of the fascist regime, the Falangists, still emanates throughout Spain during their pursuit of the Spanish Maquis rebel forces through which constant guerrilla warfare is initiated.

Characters such as Ofelia and Mercedes are representative of the hope and disobedience initiated by the Maquis rebel force. Conversely, Captain Vidal is the figurehead of the Falangist fascist regime and he is represented in ways reflective of an authoritarian society throughout the film.

Sequence 1 – Fig Tree Sequence

Cinematography:

Wide shots of soldiers, panning left to right, tracking (eye-level), tree framing (dwarfing Ofelia, shrouded in darkness), shoe closeup.

Low-angle long shot, central framing – obscured by lighting, silhouette is juxtaposed by particle fairies, mid shots push into Ofelia, crabs right to transition.

Tilt up from Vidal’s shoes, camera arcs as he shouts, lowering crane shot displays the rebellion.

Closeups of Ofelia, pushes in on key, closeup of Ofelia holding it focuses attention, pedestals up as she retrieves clothes, centrally framed during rain.

Sound:

Patriotic score, shouting soldiers, bucolic Ofelia score, stab chords, Vidal shouts, hopeful Ofelia score, high pitched key sound, rain pathetic fallacy

Mise-en-scène:

Juxtaposition between palette and uniform, traditional fairytale clothing and book, uterine tree, decorated uniform, hidden rebels less well-dressed (framing and posture)

Muddy face, pathway reflects disorientation, mysterious key, toad’s death metaphor, pathetic fallacy

Editing:

Cross cutting, hidden cut, parallel editing

Layered narration, immersive long takes, slow pace, more hidden cuts

Glance object (subjectivity), pacing quickens, hidden cuts

Fluid movements, glance object shows Ofelia’s resolve (POV)

Performance:

Ardent soldiers, immersed in fairytale, explorative nature

Vidal stern expression + measured demeanour, subservience represents hierarchy, hand gesture, booming masculine voice

Ofelia heavy breathing, addresses toad as human, doesn’t cower

Sequence 2 – First Shaving Sequence

Cinematography:

Tracks Vidal as he picks up blade, tilt to face, mid to long shot, arcs around to mid-closeup of shaving cream, uncomfortable closeup, mechanical lair, warmer lighting during Mercedes scene, pedestal up to portray Vidal’s power, claustrophobia

Sound:

Gramophone patriotism, cutthroat blade, sharp sound, matador fanfare

Mise-en-scène:

Luxury items, razor blade reflects Vidal, cluttered desk, mechanical imagery, decorated uniform, Pale Man room

Editing:

Glance object focuses on razor, fast pacing matches the tempo of music

Performance:

Precise + fluid movements, ritualistic, moves meticulously, unnecessary shaving, Mercedes acts as a mother figure

Essay – Version 1

It could be stated that Ofelia’s character is formed from the typical ‘protagonist archetype’ established through storytelling, reinforcing the viewer’s expectations. Conversely, Ofelia is also representative of the hope and disobedience initiated by the Maquis rebel force, which ultimately challenges the viewer’s expectations. Captain Vidal is the antagonistic figurehead of the Falangist fascist regime and he is represented in ways reflective of an oppressive, authoritarian society throughout the film which reinforces the viewer’s expectations. To demonstrate this, my two chosen key sequences are the Fig Tree Sequence and the First Shaving Sequence.

The initial opening wide shot of the Fig Tree Sequence depicts the Falangist soldiers on horseback, in order to pursue the Maquis rebels. The non-diegetic composed score is extremely grandiose and patriotic, which is layered in tandem with the diegetic rhythmic galloping of the horses and the soldiers shouting ardently. Through this, del Toro represents the fascist regime as an elite domineering force which is reflective of the viewer’s expectations. The camera pans from left to right, signifying the treacherous journey the soldiers are embarking upon. We then cross cut between the soldiers and Ofelia through the use of a hidden cut – this example of parallel editing aptly informs the audience that these events are occurring simultaneously.

Another pan from left to right, displays Ofelia’s adventurous journey which creates a sense of duality between the forces of good and evil. As the camera rests on Ofelia, a tracking shot follows her movements as the viewer’s focus is appropriately converged upon her. The camera is at eye-level which encourages the viewer to empathise with our protagonist. At this point, the score becomes more playful and bucolic which represents her naturalistic demeanour. The soldiers’ faint chanting can also be heard low in the mix which reminds the viewer of their omnipresence. Ofelia sports traditional fairytale clothing which is extremely reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland, another archetypical protagonist presented to us in a fairytale.

As the camera continues to smoothly glide to track Ofelia, we push back in order to reveal the fig tree in its entirety which is reminiscent of uterine imagery in its design. This is perhaps representative of Ofelia’s maturity as she continues to persevere through her daring adventure – this example of metaphorical imagery potentially challenges the viewer’s preconceived expectations. Ofelia’s narration is naturally layered alongside the soldiers’ pursuit of the rebels which emphasises to the viewer that this is her fairytale. A variety of long takes are implemented to slow the pace of the film to a halt while keeping the focus on Ofelia.

As Ofelia enters the tree, a low angle long shot displays her standing at the entranced. She is centrally framed and partially obscured by the lighting in order to converge the viewer’s attention on her silhouette. The darkness of the silhouette is juxtaposed by the vibrant particle fairies, which suggests that a foreign entity is entering the realm. This challenges the viewer’s expectations of a stereotypical weak, female protagonist by exemplifying the theme of disobedience and rebellion. The implementation of woodwind instrumentation throughout the tree scenes further reinforces Ofelia as the protagonist.

Afterwards, we cross cut back to Vidal’s army – the captain’s stern expression and measured demeanour in tandem with his highly decorated uniform reinforces his authoritative position to the viewer. The two soldiers that accompany him act subserviently. For example, Vidal’s hand gesture immediately silences them, which informs us that the captain is used to being obeyed. In effect, this cements the sociopolitical hierarchy within the regime, which perhaps challenges the viewer’s expectations. Vidal proceeds to shout into the forest, during which his booming voice is extremely high in the mix. This emphatically represents his masculinity, which ultimately instills fear in the viewer. As the soldiers ride back home, a lowering crane shot displays the hidden rebels in a position of power through the meticulous use of framing and blocking. They have successfully outsmarted Vidal and this represents the rebel force in a powerful state of being.

As we cut back to Ofelia in the tree, the camera arcs around her as she crawls and eventually pushes in on a closeup of her face. Her face is extremely muddied, illustrating her character as adventurous and daring, reinforcing the viewer’s expectations. The mud itself has also dried in order to signify the passage of time, displaying Ofelia’s heroic resilience. She persistently breathes heavily which implies that she is extremely nervous about exploring the foreign realm. This informs the viewer that Ofelia isn’t perfect, which challenges the viewer’s expectations.

During Ofelia’s exchange with the toad, she addresses it as if it were a human in order to reassure herself that she isn’t afraid of it. As the toad begins to growl at her, Ofelia continues to stand her ground in the face of danger – she doesn’t cower or show weakness in any way. Alongside this, the score becomes more hopeful as Ofelia hatches her plan to outsmart the toad. Ofelia smirks as a glance object is implemented between Ofelia and a cockroach in her hand, informing the viewer of her cunning plan. After the toad dies, we cut to a closeup of Ofelia holding a mysterious key which displays her utter encapsulation towards it, signifying its valuableness.

As Ofelia exits the tree, a sudden storm ensues causing Ofelia to become completely drenched by the rain. During this, she is centrally framed in order to completely focus the viewer’s attention on our protagonist in order to encourage the viewer to empathise with her. The oppressive rain vigorously enters the soundscape, establishing the narrative device of pathetic fallacy which is reflective of Ofelia’s miserable state of mind, juxtaposing her prior confidence. This emotional development in Ofelia’s character is perhaps surprising to the viewer, due to her aforementioned confident demeanour presented throughout the sequence.

The First Shaving Sequence opens with the diegetic audio of the gramophone emphatically entering the mix – the chosen piece being written by Antonio Molina. This specific piece is extremely evocative of the 1940s time period and oozes Spanish patriotism. A fluid tracking shot follows the movements of Vidal’s hand as he gingerly picks up his cutthroat blade. This deluxe razor blade reinforces the fact that the captain rules the sociopolitical hierarchy which includes overseeing the distribution of luxury items. This reinforces the viewer’s expectations of a fascist figurehead.

Vidal’s movements are extremely precise and meticulous as he selects the blade, moving precisely to the specifically selected music. It becomes clear to the viewer that Vidal treats the act of shaving as a sort of divine ritual, emphasising his masculinity. The captain’s ritualistic attitude towards shaving potentially challenges the viewer’s expectations due to Vidal’s prior representation as a stoic, emotionless leader. As Vidal begins to pensively walk to the mirror, the camera transitions from a mid shot to a long shot – displaying the surroundings of the room. The desk on which the shaving equipment lies is extremely cluttered, informing the viewer that this is the centre of Vidal’s command. The cog-like water wheels that make up the background of Vidal’s lair reinforce his mechanical demeanour towards the pursuit of the rebels.

After a glance object between Vidal and the razor, we cut to an uncomfortably claustrophobic closeup of Vidal shaving his face with temporal focus. The diegetic exaggerated ‘sharp’ sounds of the blade against his face are layered in the mix alongside the score. The razor blade itself is an accurate reflection of Vidal’s personality, requiring acute precision and diligence. It can also be noted that Vidal is shaving unnecessarily – he appears to already be clean shaven. Through this, it is potentially implied that the captain views shaving as a form of detoxing in order to separate himself from the arduous pursuit of the rebels. As the score ascends to a fanfare-like crescendo, Vidal’s posture is reminiscent of a matador, which further reinforces his macho disposition.

After an abrupt jump cut, the lighting of the scene becomes much warmer, informing the viewer that we are now in the presence of Mercedes. As the conversation between the two ensues, the camera pedestals up to portray Vidal as holding an authoritative power over her. This is reflective of the current opposition between the rebels and the fascists. The room the two converse in is extremely reminiscent of the Pale Man’s room, which is presented to the viewer later in the film. This example of foreshadowing establishes the evil parallels between Vidal and the Pale Man later in the film. Mercedes appears to act defiantly against Vidal, instructing him not to cook the rabbit. This foreshadows Mercedes’ disobedience against the Falangists later in the film which is representative of the ultimate triumph of good overcoming evil.

In conclusion, del Toro aptly implements the key elements of film in ways that appropriately represent the powerful forces of good and evil. This is achieved through the characterisation of Ofelia as a protagonist, as well as Vidal as an authoritarian antagonist.

Pan’s Labyrinth: Aesthetics

In order to structure an appropriate answer for the following question, the following will act as a plan for my answer:

Discuss how aesthetics are used to communicate themes in your two chosen films. Make detailed reference to particular sequences in your answer.
Summer 2019

Introduction

The key themes presented throughout the film are rebellion, gender, reality vs fantasy and authoritarian order which emanate throughout the film in a variety of ways.

The key aesthetics conveyed throughout are the juxtaposing colour palettes to define the realms, typical fairytale imagery, subjective shots (Ofelia’s POV) and GdT trademark violence.

Three key sequences chosen are First Bedtime Sequence, Fig Tree Sequence and Pale Man Sequence.

Sequence 1 – First Bedtime Sequence

Cinematography:

Blue colour palette juxtaposed by warmth of fire, tracking shots, closeups of Ofelia and Carmen (intimacy), long takes, camera pushes in until they fill the frame, pedestal down into CGI, hellish colour palette, gliding camera, insect appears again, colour palette changes to greens and browns, camera arcs back to show Ofelia and Carmen.

Cut to Vidal in lair, low-angle shot reinforces authority, closeup of pocket watch for the second time, doctor enters with out of focus soldiers, shot/reverse shots depict the doctor holding authority, low-angle shot used as Captain rises to establish that he now holds the power.

Dark moonlit exterior setting accentuates blues and greys, claustrophobia created as camera pushes in, low-angle shot of Vidal, camera swings round as Vidal smashes farmer’s face, alternating between low-angle and closeup.

Wide shot as Vidal shoots farmers – soldiers remain emotionlesss, camera tracks Vidal – centrally framed.

Mise-en-scène:

Blue colour palette, gothic interior design – dark wood and fireplace, soft lighting – purity, horn design on bed frame (uterine), Ofelia’s humble fabrics juxtapose Carmen’s silk, naturalistic makeup.

Foetus evokes fantasy, CGI, crimson palette (GdT trademark), purple rose signifies royalty, foreboding branches, now-familiar insect transitions back to reality,

Mechanical imagery in lair, cog-like water wheel, decorated uniform, ‘over-realistic’ set design, well-dressed doctor, Vidal smokes.

Homogenous soldiers, harsh lighting, farmers are raggedly dressed, GdT graphic blood (aesthetic of facial harm is established), rabbit reveal.

Editing:

Long takes, slow pace, hidden cut transition into CGI, more hidden cuts – unnoticeable change (dream-like).

Crossfade into Vidal’s lair (simultaneous), glance object between Vidal and the watch (subjectivity), shot/reverse shot – continuity editing, J cut.

More shot/reverse shots, long take builds tension, contrast between the prior slow pacing and the fast-paced violence, reactionary shots, pacing sedates once the violence is over.

Sequence 2 – Fig Tree Sequence

Cinematography:

Wide shots of soldiers, panning left to right, tracking (eye-level), tree framing (dwarfing Ofelia, shrouded in darkness), shoe closeup.

Low-angle long shot, central framing – obscured by lighting, silhouette is juxtaposed by particle fairies, wide shots of tree, mid shots push into Ofelia, crabs right to transition.

Tilt up from Vidal’s shoes, closeup of illuminated antibiotic, camera arcs as he shouts, lowering crane shot emphasises the rebellion.

Closeups of Ofelia, wide shot of never-ending cave, crab right to reveal toad, quick pan (right to left), reactionary closeups.

Pushes in on key, closeup of Ofelia holding it focuses attention, pedestals up as she retrieves clothes, centrally framed during rain.

Mise-en-scène:

Juxtaposition between palette and uniform, forest palette, traditional fairytale clothing, particle fairies, uterine tree, magic stones.

Dim lighting, overgrown, dark brown palette, mud + cockroaches.

Tactile antibiotic bottle, rebels are less well-dressed but exert power.

Muddy face, animatronic toad, toad’s death metaphor, mysterious key, return to blue palette, pathetic fallacy.

Editing:

Colour grading, cross cutting, hidden cut, parallel editing,.

Layered narration, immersive long takes, slow pace.

Gritty brown grading, more hidden cuts.

Glance object (subjectivity), pacing quickens, hidden cuts

CGI frog tongue, fluid movements, glance object shows Ofelia’s resolve (POV)

Sequence 3: Pale Man Sequence

Cinematography:

Over-the-shoulder closeup of storybook (immersion), cut to illustration that matches narration

Wide shot existing between two realms, camera pull, extreme long shot, lighting and colour palette

Hourglass closeup, two-shot of Ofelia and Pale Man

Gliding worms-eye-view of children paintings, pedestal up to reveal shoes,

Tracking shot of fairies, closeup of key, closeup of hourglass (camera push in)

Closeup of blade, push in slowly to Pale Man, his dormancy juxtaposed by fairies

Pushes into forbidden grapes, focus pull to Pale Man, high angle shot depicts Pale Man dwarfing Ofelia

Rapid crab shot initiates chase sequence, handheld camera creates disorientation

Hellish colour palette contrasted with steely blue, distinctive gateway defined

Mise-en-scène:

Holocaust clothes, imprisonment, traditional fairy tale book, uterine drawings, pastel colours, palettes

Rabbit hole crawl (Alice in Wonderland), hellish colour palette, blood-painted wall, medieval resemblance, hourglass represents time and Pale Man

Green clothes juxtapose hellish realm, forbidding fireplace, tantalising food (Alice in Wonderland) – what a child might imagine,

Pale Man symbolic of greed, ghoulish eyes, Goya paintings, Holocaust shoes, key (hope),

Ornamental dagger, Macbeth, appealing grapes,

Vidal and Pale Man parallels, bloodstained hands, GdT violence (fairy deaths), shoe motif

Editing:

Glance object between Ofelia and book (subjectivity), slow paced, fade transition

Heavy colour grading, glance object, alternating between subjective shots and objective

Parallel editing, visualised mental thought process, long takes

Pace quickens during chase, reactionary shot shows Ofelia POV, pacing slows as the danger is over

Essay – Version 1

Pan’s Labyrinth (Guillermo del Toro, 2006) is a fantasy/war film. Being a passion project of the director, it is set in the summer of 1944 – five years after the Spanish Civil War. The presence of the fascist regime, the Falangists, still emanates throughout Spain during their pursuit of the Maquis rebel force through which constant guerrilla warfare is initiated.

Throughout the film, a multitude of aesthetics are used to convey specific themes. The themes of rebellion against authoritarian order and child-like innocence are presented over the course of the film. My two chosen key sequences are the ‘First Bedtime Sequence’ and the ‘Pale Man Sequence’.

During the First Bedtime Sequence, del Toro immediately establishes the theme of authoritarian order through the use of extremely distinctive colour palettes. As Ofelia and Carmen lie in the bed, the incorporation of a foreboding, steely blue colour palette emphasises that this room is owned by the leader of the Falangists – Captain Vidal. The only warmth of the room lies in the fireplace which is representative of the small but omnipresent Maquis rebellion. During the ensuing CGI sequence of the foetus, the colour palette is juxtaposed with a hellish, crimson palette to reinforce the evil that persists within reality and the Underground Realm. The appearance of the familiar insect within the branches signals another change in colour palette to the comforting greens and browns of the forest which is exemplary of the theme of rebellion.

During the next scene, Vidal is seen silently working away in his gloomy lair. Del Toro utilises a low-angle shot and Vidal dons an extremely decorated uniform to reinforce his power and authority over the Falangists. Vidal’s spyglass is an example of ‘over-realistic set design’, an extremely characteristic aesthetic of del Toro’s filmography. This spyglass, as well as other objects such as the cog-like water wheels emphasises Vidal’s mechanical demeanour. The soldiers that accompany the doctor as he enters the room are out of focus, suggesting to the viewer that they are at Vidal’s immediate beck and call. More low-angle shot/reverse shots are used during the captain’s conversation with the doctor to emphasise that he is the authoritative figurehead.

The next scene takes place in a dark, moonlit setting which accentuates the blues and greys of the colour palette. This, alongside the use of a long take immediately establishes a sense of apprehension within the viewer. The camera then proceeds to push in closer to the fascists, creating a sense of claustrophobia. The lighting is harshly distributed onto the rebel farmers, focusing the viewer’s attention upon them and pinpointing the rebellion as the Falangists’ prime target. The farmers themselves are dressed raggedly, re-emphasising their position in post-civil war society. The camera then rapidly swings round as Vidal proceeds to smash the farmer’s face with a bottle, during which we rapidly alternate between low-angle shots of Vidal’s stoic expression and closeups of the farmer’s beaten face. Through this, the pace of the edit drastically increases in order to reiterate the domineering force of the Falangists. The incorporation of extremely graphic violence is another typical aesthetic of del Toro’s work and this introduces the motif of facial violence which reoccurs throughout the film. After the brutality is over, the pacing becomes sedate once again to inform the viewer that the storm is over. A wide shot is used as Vidal remains centrally framed as he proceeds to shoot the two farmers, during which the homogeneously dressed soldiers remain emotionless which emphasises their loyalty to the authoritative order of the regime.

The theme of child-like innocence is presented throughout the First Bedtime Sequence in a number of ways. Firstly, tracking shots are used to follow Ofelia towards Carmen’s bed which establishes her importance as an innocent protagonist to the viewer. The camera then rests on a two-shot long take of Carmen and Ofelia in the bed, through which the camera proceeds to periodically push in and out unnoticeably. The lighting is soft on Ofelia who wears humble fabrics, which is reflective of her purity. As the conversation between them continues, the shot becomes increasingly tighter to the point where the two fit the entire frame. Emphasising the intimacy between the two characters, this implies to the viewer that Ofelia is reliant on her mother’s warmth and comfort which reinforces her innocence. The appearance of Ofelia’s unborn brother as a foetus through the use of CGI also reinforces the theme of child-like innocence.

Throughout the Pale Man sequence, the theme of authoritarian order continues to preside throughout. Firstly, an opening wide shot contextualises the location of the scene initially taking place in the bedroom of Vidal’s territory. This is further exemplified through the reuse of the aforementioned icy blue colour palette to reinforce Ofelia’s state of imprisonment within the confines of the fascist-ruled reality. Her traditional clothing is resemblant of Anne Frank as well as many other Holocaust victims, representative of the aftermath of a totalitarian regime, such as the Falangists.

As she enters the realm of the Pale Man, another wide shot depicts Ofelia existing between the two realms. The previous colour palette is juxtaposed with a colour-graded hellish palette, which incorporates reds and crimsons into a monstrous visual spectacle. The interior is resemblant of a medieval dungeon, reminiscent of the Falangists’ traditional rule of authority over the rebels. Ofelia’s green clothing starkly juxtaposes the hellish realm, suggesting that she is acting as the rebellious force within the institutional evil of the Pale Man.

The Pale Man’s design is symbolic of greed – his loose skin in tandem with his malnourished body represents his gluttonous tendencies which he has not indulged in for a long time. Furthermore, the camera then pedestals up to reveal a colossal pile of shoes that lies beside the Pale Man’s table which is once again symbolic of the many victims of the Holocaust. The shoes represent a potential future that exists in Ofelia’s world which exposes the dangers of a fascist, authoritarian regime such as the Falangists.

Ofelia then retrieves an ornamentally designed dagger from behind a locked door. Receiving a closeup, the dagger is extremely shiny and polished, which reinforces its authenticity and uniqueness. The dagger also has iconographically symbolic relations to the theme of betrayal and rebellion towards the fascists. Alongside this, the key which Ofelia bears during this sequence is exemplary of the rebellious force that will overcome the fascist regime. Later in the film, Mercedes utilises a key to free the peasants from the wrath of the soldiers, reshaping the future of Spain forever.

There are potential parallels between the antagonistic forces of Vidal and the Pale Man respectively. While the captain consumes baby rabbits, the Pale Man devours children which reinforces them both as demonic and remorseless. The Pale Man’s hands are also bloodstained, once again linking to the act of betrayal and rebellion. The fairies’ deaths are extremely brutal and graphic (a typical aesthetic of del Toro’s work) – blood gushes into the Pale Man’s mouth. This symbolises the death of fantasy and whimsicality the fascists enforce.

The theme of child-like innocence is also presented throughout the Pale Man Sequence in a number of ways. Through the use of an over-the-shoulder shot, the drawings within Ofelia’s traditional storybook are portrayed. A glance object is implemented between Ofelia and the book which places the viewer in Ofelia’s virtuous perspective. This emphasises her innocent immersion within her own fairytale. Moreover, the drawings are reminiscent of uterine imagery which suggests Ofelia’s maturity. The use of pastel colours further exemplifies the whimsicality of her fairytale.

As Ofelia crawls through the mysterious gateway to the Pale Man’s lair, the action of ‘crawling through the rabbit hole’ is extremely reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland. Del Toro’s aesthetic reference to this traditional fairytale acutely portrays Ofelia as an innocent fairytale protagonist.

Ofelia then reaches the Pale Man’s table, during which the camera crabs from left to right in order to track her movements from the opposite side of the table. Her trance-like state is displayed to the viewer as she observes the tantalising forbidden feast that lies on the table, reinforcing her innocence and vulnerability. The food is predominantly made up of sweet, luxurious delicacies such as fruits and jellies which is representative of what an innocent child might imagine a feast to be like. The camera then rests on a two shot of Ofelia looking intently at the Pale Man to present him as an antagonistic force.

We then cut to a gliding worms-eye-view shot looking up at the ceiling which depict paintings that display the Pale Man’s visceral brutality towards a countless amount of helpless children. These paintings are resemblant of the works of Goya, a Spanish romantic artist known for extremely graphic depictions of violence towards defenceless children. As Ofelia becomes tempted by the grapes, the camera cuts between closeups of Ofelia, the grapes and the Pale Man in order to subtly visualise her mental thought process and emphasise her innocent inability to resist the tantalising temptation the forbidden fruit emits. A high angle shot is used to depict the Pale Man dwarfing Ofelia, reinforcing the looming danger he radiates towards the vulnerable protagonist.

In conclusion, an abundance of aesthetics are used to communicate the themes of rebellion vs authoritarian order and child-like innocence in a wide variety of ways over the course of the film. Del Toro masterfully employs his characteristic aesthetics as an auteur, such as brutal violence and stark colour palettes to persistently reinforce key thematic concepts and motifs throughout Pan’s Labyrinth.