Blade Runner Film Review

The battle between man and machine has raged on through American literature and reality for over a century. Its forms range from the American folktale of John Henry going head to head with the steam-powered hammer, to the real life 2011 Jeopardy match between the IBM powered Watson and reigning Jeopardy champion Ken Jennings. We have a natural fascination of seeing man go head-to-head with its creations, and seeing how close we can get them to the real deal.

But what happens when we build too perfect of a machine? One that's too human? One that begins to look, act, feel, and think like us?

Blade Runner takes place in the distant future (2019!) where this has become a reality. In what looks like an apocalyptic second coming of the Industrial Revolution, the world is engulfed in smog and other pollutants from smokestacks powering the various industries on the ground. As a result, we are required to harvest other planets for their natural resources to power ours. Instead of using human labor, the Tyrell corporation has developed a series of robots called Replicants, designed to function in all the same physical ways as a human. Things are going well until a group of six Replicants of the latest (and most advanced) model commandeer a ship and murder its crew. They make it back to Earth and attempt to infiltrate the Tyrell headquarters, unsuccessfully.

But why? They're already free, why try and go back into Tyrell, where they would no doubt be caught? It's unclear at first, but we soon discover two key reasons as to why. First, we are told that the Replicants are not designed with emotions, rather they develop them over time themselves. This means they won't necessarily react in a logical way, and may override a logical response with an emotional one - like a human. Secondly, we are told they only have four years to live. They discover this, and the pack's leader, Roy, is desperate to find a solution.

Roy is an extremely interesting character. He looks, acts, and some could argue even thinks like a human being. He might even be more human than human in some of those regards. He is more well spoken than the millions of humans on the ground working in the factories. He is able to (and does) show all the emotions a human would; sadness, anger, intimacy, desperation, acceptance, etc.. He talks about experiences that are more meaningful and impactful than those of most actual humans. "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I've watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain." He 'lives' more like a man than most men do, and yet, he still isn't human.

The moral questions asked by Blade Runner and the Philip K. Dick book it's based on (Do Robots Dream of Electric Sheep?) are really interesting. In both we begin to empathize with the Replicants, but at the same time we're conflicted as to why. If we really think about it, the Replicants are just gears and wires. 0's and 1's behind an artificially developed body. They may appear in every way the same as us, but we know they lack the consciousness we as living beings possess. They might laugh, cry, or show excitement like we do, but we know these are all just automated responses of a piece of hardware behind a human-like frame. In the future, if androids were to become a reality, it might be that we only feel for them in the same way we feel for the characters on TV and in literature; through a projection of our own emotion onto them.

From a film analysis point of view, Blade Runner is extremely well done. Ridley Scott does an excellent job of creating a world that encapsulates the cold and industrial world of the original story through film technique and symbolism. While the movie is science-fiction, it drastically differs from the space operas that were popular around the same time (The Star Wars saga in particular). While it has some of the big budget effects that were popular at the time, Blade Runner is still at its core more of a traditional film in that it focuses on its characters and the way the story unfolds, and Ridley Scott makes this apparent from the get-go. The entire film is extremely dark in terms of contrast; sometimes it's even difficult to see what's going on. This gives the movie a gritty film-noir feel to it, unlike the vibrant colors of Star Wars and the like. To expand on this, it's rarely ever daytime in the movie. The opening scene, which sets out to establish the atmosphere of the movie, shows the sprawling city at night still busy at work. Scott's directing skills combined with the already great story makes Blade Runner a great and very important movie in American film history.

Work Cited

• Monahan, D., Barsam R. Looking at Movies. 4th Edition ed. N.p.: Pearson Education, 2013. Print.
• Coffey, Donnacha. "Blade Runner FilmGrab." Web log post. Film-grab.com. N.p., 5 Sept. 2010. Web.
• Dick, Philip. "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" 1968. Book.
• Ebert29, Roger. "Blade Runner" All Content. N.p., 29 Dec. 1988. Web. 14 Apr. 2014.
• Blade Runner Dir. Ridley Scott. Perf. Harrison Ford. 1988. DVD.
• Richards, Evan. "The Cinematography of “Blade Runner" @ Evan E. Richards. N.p., Aug. 2010. Web. 14 Apr. 2014.

"Groundhog Day" Film Review

         Our story takes place on a very important day. We don’t know the year, but that’s irrelevant. What is relevant is that it’s February 2nd, which, as any resident of Punxsutawney knows, is Groundhog Day. Residents of the quaint Pennsylvania borough rise bright and early to gather around Gobbler’s Knob, the home of their favorite chubby-cheeked rodent, Punxsutawney Phil. Phil is the poster boy of the otherwise unremarkable town, and draws crowds of thousands every year.

                      

         However there’s more to our little fur-ball buddy than meets the eye; if he catches a glimpse of his shadow we’re in for another six months of winter (at least traditionally). Everyone huddles together to see Phil’s response, anxiously anticipating his answer.

                      

         …Everyone but Phil Connor that is. Our protagonist Phil (played by Bill Murray) already knows that there will be another 6 months of winter, since he’s been trapped living this same day countless times before. Every night he goes to bed and every morning he wakes up to I Got You Babe on the radio. Following a roller-coaster of emotions and numerous attempts to escape the loop, he is finally able to break the spell after learning to become a more selfless person and live for something other than himself.

                      

         While Bill Murray alone is sometimes enough to make a movie, the director Harold Ramis uses a number of film and writing techniques to really bring his story together. The film opens with a sped up clip of rolling clouds against a blue sky, an introduction that is very telling of the rest of the movie.

                      

         Like each cloud, each day in Phil’s life is completely indistinguishable from the day prior. We have no idea when the shots of these clouds were taken, or if they’re even in chronological order. Likewise, every day to Phil is the same. There is no distinguishable difference to Phil from one day to the other except for the actions he makes. The clouds fade away and we are left with only a blue screen, which we soon realize is a screen our protagonist is presenting the weather on. As Phil ever-so sarcastically describes the week’s forecast, we can see that the film is extremely unsaturated, a trait that carries on through the rest of the film. This along with the unflattering lighting makes Phil’s skin looks gray and saggy, making Bill Murray look like a cranky middle-aged man. The movie takes place in the winter too, and the unsaturated film technique helps establish that by giving everything a cold, bland, washed out look.

                      

         Groundhog Day’s writing is really interesting as well. The story-line is pretty unique to movies of the time-travel genre, as most of them are darker, more serious movies. In addition, while the subject matter itself is not linear, the timeline of events that takes place is. This is pretty special for movies involving time loops; many will have the scenes mismatched, matching the time-travel tone of the film (12 Monkeys, Donnie Darko, etc.) By writing the movie this way Ramis lets the audience know that this isn't supposed to be a movie about time travel so much as it is about the characters and how they develop.

                      

         Along with the story-line structure, Ramis uses symbolism in his writing to good effect. A repeating symbol in Groundhog Day is the appearance of clocks. The clock represents Phil’s futility to beat the loop he’s stuck in; no matter what he does he has no control over time. Clocks are put all over scenes in the movie as a constant reminder that Phil is stuck. The most notable clock (our antagonist) is the one set to go off at exactly 6:00 every morning. Every time the song is played it lets us know that Bill hasn't escaped his perpetual loop yet.

                      

         Ramis does a good job of tackling the cinematographic aspect of each scene too. Following yet another futile attempt to break the loop, Phil is awoken to the clock radio, just as he had been yesterday and the countless days before that. Here however, we have a close up of the clock from a low angle, making the clock appear colossal. The time begins to change, but unlike real time where the change is almost instantaneous, we watch as the shutter slowly falls. We hear the inner-workings of the clock make a deep roar, and then a loud thud as the shutter comes to a rest. This combination of visual and audio techniques gives the impression that the clock is much larger than it actually is, symbolizing the insurmountable force that time is.

                      

         Cut to the next shot, we have Phil laying down alone in his queen-sized bed, engulfed in his covers. The camera is slowly zooming out and looking down at him, giving the impression that he is small and powerless. This scene, in comparison to the one immediately prior, makes Phil look helpless to the unbeatable power of time.

Works Cited

• Monahan, D., Barsam R. Looking at Movies. 4th Edition ed. N.p.: Pearson Education, 2013. Print.
• Coffey, Donnacha. "Groundhog Day FilmGrab." Web log post. Film-grab.com. N.p., 5 Sept. 2010. Web.
• Woods, Conley. "Punxsutawney Phil." N.p., 2007. Web. 14 Apr. 2014.
• Ebert29, Roger. "Groundhog Day" All Content. N.p., 29 Dec. 1993. Web. 14 Apr. 2014.
• Groundhog Day Dir. Harold Ramis. Perf. Bill Murray. 1993. DVD.
• Richards, Evan. "The Cinematography of “Groundhog Day" @ Evan E. Richards. N.p., Aug. 2010. Web. 14 Apr. 2014.

"O Brother Where Art Thou?" Film Review

                O Brother, Where Art Thou? The title itself is a nod to Preston Sturges’s 1941 Great Depression flick Sullivan’s Travels, a tale of a comedy director’s struggle to release a socially-conscious movie (entitled O Brother, Where Art Thou?) in a time where people go to the movies to escape the world, not accept it. Following a number of mishaps and shenanigans, our protagonist finally reaches the end of the movie with a new-found appreciation for the comedy genre.

                O Brother, Where Art Thou? was based on the Greek epic The Odyssey, but in many ways resembles Sullivan’s Travels. Like O Brother, Where Art Thou?, Sullivan’s Travels has its roots in a well-known piece of literature; the 17^th century adventuring tale Gulliver’s Travels. Both of these movies, as well as the works they were based on, follow a man and his wild journey that leads to self-discovery.

                The opening scene of O Brother Where Art Thou? immediately establishes the tone for the remainder of the movie. We are welcomed with a panning shot of the fields of Mississippi and the sounds of pickaxes and chain-songs. After a long shot of the plains the camera rests on a group of chain-gangers, picking away at rocks on the side of the road. Eventually the camera returns to the fields, where we are greeted with a change of pace as our protagonists emerge from the fields chained together and on the run.

                The rest of the film follows our protagonist, a smooth-talking fugitive by the name of Everett Mcgill. Everett is a smart, but arrogant man. His self-pronounced “capacity for abstract thought” is the leading cause of his troubles. We watch as Mcgill tries as hard as he can to resist change in the name of stubbornness, until he eventually accepts that he can’t outsmart everything. The Coen brothers make this both implicitly and explicitly obvious through their writing and use of symbolism.

                The use of symbolism is a major plot element of O Brother Where Art Thou?. One example of symbolism usage is the amount of dirt and grime coated on Everett’s face at any given time. Early in the movie the other two members of the chain-gang come across a congregation in the woods being baptized. Delmar (one of the fugitives), sprints to the front of the line, where he is baptized and told he is absolved of all his sins. The third fugitive by the name of Pete hastily follows suit. As they wade back shore they tell Everett to do the same, but out of stubbornness he refuses, ridiculing their superstition. Everett’s pride is implicitly represented by the grime built up on his face. His unwillingness to be baptized, which would at the same time wash away the dirt, shows he is too prideful to buy into spirituality, even after Delmar expresses that “it couldn't hurt.” They continue on their journey, but now with a clean-faced and clean-slated Pete and Delmar.

                It isn’t until the climax of the movie that Everett accepts his fate and shows some semblance of humbleness. Having finally been caught by the authorities in the woods with nooses ready, our trio is brought to their knees and told to pray before they’re strung up. Our once prideful protagonist, who at the beginning of the story might have kept his mouth shut, is now praying to God for mercy, not just for his own sake, but for the sakes of his family and his fugitive companions. Only seconds later a deus ex machina takes place as a cataclysmic flow of water comes crashing down around them, freeing them from their fate. As our protagonists are brought to the surface of the water, we see Everett’s face washed clean, symbolizing a newfound humbleness and maturity.

                The Coen brothers also implicitly express the meaning and tone of the movie on a scene-by-scene basis. In one scene, the three protagonists stumble across a group of scantily-clad women singing and washing their clothes in a stream.

                All around them are beautiful trees and the sounds of nature. The film is over-saturated, making the scene appear more intimate. The three beautiful women continue to wash their clothes while lulling the protagonists in, before getting up and dancing around them. The camera zooms in to a close up of each of our protagonists with a women wrapped around each one of them, giving the scene a much more personal feel. Slowly the camera begins to zoom out and the once sweet sound of the women singing becomes distorted with an eerie whistle, giving the audience the clue that something isn't right. The camera fades to black and we are left in the dark for a few seconds while the music still plays.

                We are quickly cut to a much less appealing scene of a close-up of Delmar laying face up in the mud. The saturation from the previous scene has disappeared and been replaced with an assortment of grays. The contrast between this scene and the prior one gives the audience the idea that our protagonists have been duped. It’s only seconds later that we realize our assumptions were correct, as the camera jumps to the point of view of Delmar and we see that he discovers Pete missing. 

Works Cited

• Prince, Stephen R. Movies and Meaning: An Introduction to Film. 6th Edition ed. N.p.: Pearson Education, 2013. Print.
• Coffey, Donnacha. "O Brother, Where Art Thou? FilmGrab." Web log post. Film-grab.com. N.p., 5 Sept. 2010. Web.
• Woods, Conley. "Sullivan's Travels (1941)." Sullivan's Travels (1941). N.p., 2007. Web. 14 Apr. 2014.
• Ebert29, Roger. "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" All Content. N.p., 29 Dec. 2000. Web. 14 Apr. 2014.
• O Brother, Where Art Thou? Dir. Ethan Coen and Joel Coen. Perf. George Clooney. 2000. DVD.
• Richards, Evan. "The Cinematography of “O Brother, Where Art Thou” (2000)." @ Evan E. Richards. N.p., Aug. 2010. Web. 14 Apr. 2014.

Greetings!

Hello! My name is Cornelius T-Hambone, and while I have a fairly active online presence (facebook, twitter, reddit, etc.) this is my first time using a blog. I look forward to discussing cinematography with all of you! Below I have posted a few clips from movies I think have particularly interesting cinematography techniques (Warning!: Profanity and spoilers).

2001: A Space Odyssey


  No Country For Old Men


  True Detective (Profanity)


 The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring


Reservoir Dogs (Profanity)


Apocalypse Now

Works Cited

·         2001, A Space Odyssey. Dir. Stanley Kubrick. Prod. Stanley Kubrick. By Stanley Kubrick, Arthur C. Clarke, Geoffrey Unsworth, and Ray Lovejoy. Perf. Keir Dullea, Gary Lockwood, and William Sylvester. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1968.

·         Apocalypse Now. Dir. Francis F. Coppola. Perf. Marlon Brando, Martin Sheen. Paramount Pictures, 1979.

·         The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring. Dir. Peter Jackson. Perf. Elijah Wood, Ian Mckellen. New Line Home Entertainment, 2001. Clip.

·         No Country For Old Men. Dir. Joel Coen. Prod. Joel Coen and Ethan Coen. Miramax, 2007.

·         Pizzolatto, Nic. "The Secret Fate of All Life." True Detective. HBO. 3 June 2012. Television.

·         Reservoir Dogs. Dir. Quentin Tarantino. By Quentin Tarantino. Perf. Quentin Tarantino, Harvey Keitel, Michael Madsen, and Christopher Penn. Miramax Films, 1992.