11 resultados para movie theaters
em CentAUR: Central Archive University of Reading - UK
Resumo:
This article is a close analysis of The Cry of the Owl (Thraves, 2009). It is also part of larger project to bring together traditions of detailed criticism with those of production history, which culminates in second article on the film due to be published in 2011. The detail of the argument concerns analysing a range of the film’s key signifying systems, with a particular interest in the way the film explores the gap between images / impressions and characters’ realities; engages in a complex way with generic traditions and modes of address; establishes complex patterns of connection and contrast through blocking, camera strategies and narrative structure.
Resumo:
This article extends the traditions of style-based criticism through an encounter with the insights that can be gained from engaging with filmmakers at work. By bringing into relationship two things normally thought of as separate: production history and disinterested critical analysis, the discussion aims to extend the subjects which criticism can appreciate as well as providing some insights on the creative process. Drawing on close analysis, on observations made during fieldwork and on access to earlier cuts of the film, this article looks at a range of interrelated decision-making anchored by the reading of a particular sequence. The article examines changes the film underwent in the different stages of production, and some of the inventions deployed to ensure key themes and ideas remained in play, as other elements changed. It draws conclusions which reveal perspectives on the filmmaking process, on collaboration, and on the creative response to material realities. The article reveals elements of the complexity of the process of the construction of image and soundtrack, and extends the range of filmmakers’ choices which are part of a critical dialogue. Has a relationship to ‘Sleeping with half open eyes: dreams and realities in The Cry of the Owl’, Movie: A Journal of Film Criticism, 1, (2010) which provides a broader interpretative context for the enquiry.
Resumo:
The crisis of the national project in the early 1990s, caused by a short-lived but disastrous government, led Brazilian art cinema, for the first time, to look at itself as periphery and re-approach the old colonial centre, Portugal. Terra estrangeira/Foreign Land (Walter Salles & Daniela Thomas, Brazil/Portugal, 1995), a film about Brazilian exiles in Portugal, is the best illustration of this perspective shift aimed at providing a new sense of Brazil’s scale and position within a global context. Shot mainly on location in São Paulo, Lisbon and Cape Verde, it promotes the encounter of Lusophone peoples who find a common ground in their marginal situation. Even Portugal is defined by its location at the edge of Europe and by beliefs such as Sebastianism, whose origins go back to the time when the country was dominated by Spain. As a result, notions of ‘core’ or ‘centre’ are devolved to the realm of myth. The film’s carefully crafted dialogues combine Brazilian, Portuguese and Creole linguistic peculiarities into a common dialect of exclusion, while language puns trigger visual rhymes which refer back to the Cinema Novo (the Brazilian New Wave) repertoire and restage the imaginary of the discovery turned into unfulfilled utopia. The main characters also acquire historical resonances, as they are depicted as descendants of Iberian conquistadors turned into smugglers of precious stones in the present. Their activities define a circuit of international exchange which resonates with that of globalized cinema, a realm in which Foreign Land, made up of citations and homage to other cinemas, tries to retrieve a sense of belonging.
Resumo:
The single plays of American ex-pat playwright Howard Schuman produced for British television between 1973 and 1983 have received little critical attention. Written in a distinctly un-British madcap, non-naturalistic and often pulpy 'B movie' style, they centre around caricatured, hysterical and/or camp characters and make frequent references to popular culture. This article provides a general survey of Schuman's plays and analyses his sensibility as a screenwriter, drawing extensively on material from interviews with the writer. The article's particular focus is how and why different cultural forms including music, film and theatre are used and referred to in Schuman's plays, and how this conditions the plays' narrative content and visual and aural form. It also considers the reception of Schuman's plays and their status as non-naturalistic dramas that engage heavily with American pop culture, within the context of British drama. Finally, it explores the writer's relationship to style and aesthetics, and considers how his written works have been enhanced through creative design decisions, comparing his directions (in one of his scripts) with the realized play to reflect on the use of key devices.
Resumo:
The Back to the Future Trilogy incorporates several different generic elements, including aspects of the fifties teen movie, science fiction, comedy and the western. These different modes playfully intertwine with each other creating a complex world of repetitions, echoes and modulations. This essay seeks to interrogate the construction of generic elements and the play between them through a close analysis of a repeated performance. Genre is signalled through various strategies employed within the construction of mise-en-scène, a significant portion of this, as I would like to argue, is transmitted through performance. The material detail of a performance – incorporating gesture, movement, voice, and even surrounding elements such as costume – as well as the way it its presented within a film is key to the establishment, invocation and coherence of genre. Furthermore, attention to the complexity of performance details, particularly in the manner in which they reverberate across texts, demonstrates the intricacy of genre and its inherent mutability. The Back to the Future trilogy represents a specific interest in the flexibility of genre. Within each film, and especially across all three, aspects of various genres are interlaced through both visual and narrative detail, thus constructing a dense layer of references both within and without the texts. To explore this patterning in more detail I will interrogate the contribution of performance to generic play through close analysis of Thomas F. Wilson’s performance of Biff/Griff/Burford Tannen and his central encounter with Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) in each film. These moments take place in a fifties diner, a 1980s retro diner and a saloon respectively, each space contributing the similarities and differences in each repetition. Close attention to Wilson’s performance of each related character, which contains both modulations and repetitions used specifically to place each film’s central generic theme, demonstrates how embedded the play between genres and their flexibility is within the trilogy.
Resumo:
Much is made of the viscerally disturbing qualities embedded in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre - human bodies are traumatised, mutilated and distorted – and the way these are matched by close and often intense access to the performers involved. Graphic violence focused on the body specifically indicates the film as a key contemporary horror text. Yet, for all this closeness to the performers, it soon becomes clear in undertaking close-analysis of the film that access to them is equally characterised by extreme distance, both spatially and cognitively. The issue of distance is particularly striking, not least because of its ramifications on engagement, which throws up various aesthetic and methodological questions concerning performers’ expressive authenticity. This article considers the lack of access to performance in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, paying particular attention to how this fits in with contemporaneous presentations of performance more generally, as seen in films such as Junior Bonner (Sam Peckinpah, 1972). As part of this investigation I consider the affect of such a severe disruption to access on engagement with, and discussion of, performance. At the heart of this investigation lie methodological considerations of the place of performance analysis in the post-studio period. How can we perceive anything of a character’s interior life, and therefore engage with performers who we fundamentally lack access to? Does such an apparently significant difference in the way performers and their embodiment is treated mean that they can even be thought of as delivering a performance?
Resumo:
'O Testamento de Dom Quixote', 'script' by Glauber Rocha, is supposed to be loosely inspired in the last chapter of Cervantes' novel, although it is absolutely different from it: in the film the character doesn't recover his lucidity, but he lives surrounded by mystical delirium. Already in its first pages, it is obvious that it is a first draft of 'Cutting Heads', the film he shot in Spain in 1970, in spite of being completely different from the final movie. The comparison between both works allows us to see to what extent this essential seed was a forgotten one: the film was always publicised as a version of 'Macbeth', a reference which is missing here, and the 'Quijote' was never considered a point of depart, although its work with reality and dream determined the tone of the film from the very beginning.
Resumo:
This is a two-part audiovisual essay on Victor Sjöström’s extraordinary film The Phantom Carriage (Körkarlen), which was released on New Year’s Day 1921. Part 1 explores a sequence in detail, revealing a mastery of three-dimensional film space which is remarkable for its period; the essay then look at the ways in which this handling of space is integral to the film’s rich articulation of character and action. Part 2 considers aspects of the film’s mise-en-scène and shows how the features of the sequence explored in Part 1 take on their full resonance within patterns and motifs that develop across the film. Published by Movie: a journal of film criticism, the essay complements our chapter on the film in the volume Silent Features, edited by Steve Neale (Exeter University Press, 2016).
Resumo:
Among the links between Pier Paolo Pasolini and Brazilian Cinema Novo, one of the most inspiring is the political approach to hunger and consumption. In this text, I analyse this topic to look at how some of the aesthetic ideas in Pasolini’s La ricotta (1963) can also be found in some of the most important films of Cinema Novo. In 'La ricotta' (1963), the irresistible need to eat of a subproletarian interacts and clashes with his responsibilities as an actor in a movie version of the Passion of Christ, so that the film creates a complex network of relations between film shooting, social differences, art, hunger, consumption, time and light, which turns the film set into a space for displaying political relations, differences, exploitation and revolution. The correspondences between these concepts and some aggression techniques of Cinema Novo are numerous and confirm the capacity of Pasolini’s film to project ideas on cinema and politics beyond its particular production context.