With the introduction of film into mainstream society, many were amazed by this seemingly recreated version of their own lives. As Dr. Pandian showed in class, during the early film “L'arrivée d'un train en gare de La Ciotat“ viewers couldn’t even distinguish the fact that this film was not a real, tangible piece of life, and thought that the train would hit them. This week’s articles examined this unique capacity of film as a medium to elicit strong emotions of spectators.
Kracauer discusses the physiological effects of watching a film. The nature of watching a film first lowers our consciousness, as we are sitting in a dark room with stimuli limited to the film in front of us. This loss of consciousness is not by chance, but because the spectator craves “for once to be released from the grip of consciousness, lose their identity in the dark, and let sink in, with their senses ready to absorb them, the images as they happen to follow each other on the screen” (Kracauer, 159-160). As we let go of our identities and become immersed into the film, we become vulnerable to the filmmaker’s intentions, and often to forms of propaganda. While we watch and experience a film, we are at the same time being drawn to the cinematic world in front of us and being drawn into our deeper psyches, examining ourselves in relation to the characters on screen: who they are, who we could be.
Both Dr. Pandian’s article and Rutherford’s articles explain the lengths to which filmmakers go to achieve the entire feeling of the film that they had envisioned. This may involve finding the perfect set, the perfect actors, the perfect location to shoot, or the perfect soundtrack. While Pandian discusses the search for continuity between these landscapes and expected mood of the film or the “affective autonomy”, Rutherford explains Nowhere To Hide’s innovative approach to style and emotion in film. By doing unexpected things with editing, shots, music choices, and temporality, Lee Myung-Se creates a “kinetic energy” (Rutherford, 167). The atypical framing and unpredictability of the shots creates a visceral experience and a “hypnotic sensory reverie” (167).
These articles examine how and why a film can take us for an emotional ride, both letting us abandon our identity and dive into it. I began to think about the types of movies that are like Nowhere to Hide, versus typical Hollywood hits. Why do we often choose conventional, predictable movies rather than ones that are innovative and will make us experience a new type of spectatorship?
I also think it’s interesting to look at how our attention spans have changed. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like I rarely sit and watch a full movie, especially in theaters or in total darkness. I’m usually watching one while I’m online, talking to friends, looking at blogs, etc. How does this change the way we identify with films, when we are no longer immersed in them enough to lose ourselves?
11 comments:
I would certainly agree that out attention span as a collective society has diminished and that, along those lines, the ways in which we watch movies now (while multi-tasking rather than in a darkened movie theater on a large screen) would seemingly reduce our capacity to be immersed in a film and consequently prohibit our participation in the “manufactured dream.” However, I would argue that the distinction which Kracauer makes between the way the film engages us as spectators and the way we engage the film in some ways bridges this divide. The first experience Karcauecer describes the way in which “released from the control of consciousness, the spectator cannot help feeling attracted by the phenomena in front of him. They beckon him to come nearer” (164-5). In this dreaming “toward the film”, the movie watcher loses himself in the pursuit of reaching the film; he is drawn in. This direction of dreaming explains well the typical experience of movie watching in a theater and is missing from the experience we have today. The other type of dreaming Kracaucer delineates focuses, conversely, on the way in which the movie reached the viewer. He notes how “any such shot may touch off chain reactions in the moviegoer—a flight of associations which no longer revolve around their original source but arise from his agitated inner environment” (165). Here, the viewer is piqued by a particular moment in the film and personally influenced by it. He draws from the movie and engages specific bits in his own external reality, outside the happenings of the film. Still engaged in a type of dreaming, the direction is reversed. This engagement of the film is what I see at play in the way in which we watch movies now. We may be distracted, not fully drawn into the film, yet certain parts may attract our interest and we stop and watch them. Though we may return to another task, that bit of the movie stays with us and is digested by our personal interpretations in the fashion Kracaucer describes. Because we absorb the film, we do not lose completely the experience of dreaming and engagement; rather it simply produces itself in another, more disjunctive form.
It is interesting to consider the difference between the standard Hollywood films we tend to prefer and films such as Nowhere to Hide, which “work to dredge up intense affect from the depths of repression.” As one scholar noted, the general trend away from the “depth model of representation”, displayed in Lee’s film, toward a “shift to surface”, has been associated with “the waning of affect.” When we watched Lee’s film in class, it was clear that visceral reactions outweighed emotional identifications, since plot, characters, and objects were presented both disjunctively and partially. Without these recognizable connections and grounding points, this film focused more heavily on the production of affect as distinguished from emotion by Dr. Pandian in lecture. And yet I found myself supplying my own plot points and connection from the fragments given. As the movie progressed, rather than experiencing the affective, kinetic qualities for what they were, I imposed my westernized understanding of the “usual” trajectory of a film, to what was before me. Thus I sought out a Hollywoodesque emotional identification and a consistent presentation of character and plot. Why was the man assassinated? Was the girl jumping down stairs going to reappear? My personal imposition of cultural attributes common to western films colored my interpretation of Lee’s affective film. Does this express a discomfort with visceral representations, with genres unfamiliar? Does this reiterate the theme of distraction? Without a consistent, comprehensive plot, is it difficult to pay attention to these films for what they are, or was the disorganization I felt evidence of the affective nature of the film at work? What is the work of the filmmakers, and what the natural “affective autonomy” of the landscape Lee chose, as Dr. Pandian’s article relates in reference to Tamil film locations abroad.
-Sarah Schulman
I agree with Stephanie and Rachel in regards to the idea that our attention span has shortened and the ways in which we watch movies would seemingly reduce our capacity to be immersed in a film. But instead of examining the effects of how this affects our ability to watch movies, I would go as far as to suggest it very well has contributed to our shortened attention spans. In Karcauecer’s article, he mentions the importance of movement in film. He states, “Take any film you can think of: by dint of its very nature it is a succession of ever-changing images which altogether give the impression of a flow, a constant movement...Movement is the alpha and omega of the medium.” He further mentions how the movement of the film can invoke kinesthetic responses as muscular reflexes in the viewer. I would not find it surprising if a year of watching movies from childhood has had some affect on our attention spans due to the cuts and often back and forth quick movement of film. Further I find if you compare movies from several decades ago to now, the amounts of this movement, particularly cutting between scenes and characters, has increased. This could be due to innovation in filmmaking but I would suggest that it evolved out of the attempt to keep the audience’s attention. But much like how our bodies build immunities to diseases, we have built immunity to this effect to keep our attention.
I also find Sarah’s point about supplying her own plot points and connection from the fragments given interesting. I too also found myself doing this but even more so during the preview for the Indian film that Professor Pandian showed us. I found myself observing the images and using the music as a sense to learn what the film was about. I too supplied my own plot points to the characters shown in the film and felt I had a general idea of what the film would be about despite the language barrier. It also reminds me of the idea last week that we, not knowing the full context, could misinterpret what is going on in such a preview much like what occurs when we see a photograph that is either staged or a misinterpreted candid photo.
-Kyle B
I think we typically choose to watch conventional, predictable movies over more innovative ones because we can guarantee an emotional response to the movie. This response is triggered by a loss of consciousness as described by Kracauer; We engage in a subconscious connection to what is happening on the screen. As stated within Kracauer's piece, "If the cinema produces its effect, it does so because I identify myself with its images, because I more or less forget myself in what is being displayed on the screen. I am no longer in my own life, I am in the film projected on the screen in front of me." When we regain consciousness, we find ourselves having to reconcile this experience of a different life. As Rachel said, the spectator craves this experience as opposed to the desire to simply be entertained. In the case of less predictable movies, this experience may render itself too removed from an "acceptable" release of consciousnesses. This is related to the effect of cinema propaganda, which, in order to be "sold" to the viewer, must captivate both the intellect and the senses. The viewer may reject the idea, though, if emotional resistance proves stronger than the idea's attraction to the intellect. This is often the case of the less predictable movie, that attempts to sway our ideas but is too emotionally inconceivable to do so. This is how I felt about "Nowhere to Hide". Having gotten a preview of the movie in class, I would not choose to attempt to immerse myself in the rest of the movie outside of class. I had a very minimal feeling of "unconsciousness" during the film; I found myself constantly defending the attempt made to connect with "the embodied mind" that Rutherford mentions. Then, why would I choose to spend time and possibly money to attempt to have an experience that will most likely be meaningless? On the other hand, with more predictable movies, I can guarantee a sense of immersion due to familiarity.
“For an idea to be sold it must captivate not only the intellect but the senses as well.” That quote really struck me. Even beyond cinema, this statement holds true for everything from class presentations to large scale advertising: content alone does not always captivate an audience or communicate an idea. Kracauer remarked further that conveying a message does not have to be direct. Rather, the “presenter,” in any form, can display images that seem disconnected from their message, but subconsciously act upon the viewer to influence him or her.
Here is where I think Paulina’s argument about movie tastes come into play. While the cinema creates an environment fostering unconsciousness, not everyone chooses to remain “unconscious” or enjoys the act of doing so. I do not think everyone reaches an unconscious state, because certain people hyper-analyze movies, refusing to be vulnerable, “to reconcile this experience of a different life,” and seeking to understand an indirect or unclear part of the movie. That is the type of movie experience that they enjoy- maybe not relaxing, per say, but actively engaged in solving the puzzle of the movie. Likewise, one could argue that these people are in some state of unconsciousness from their our lives because they are totally engrossed in understanding something outside of their world. In both meanings of unconscious, propaganda is able to captivate attention.
Another point I wanted to discuss is how people frequently compare their everyday lives to movies. I have heard and said the phrase, “that was something straight out of a movie” when commenting on a story. Cinema has created this alternate reality of exaggerated scenarios that we simultaneously hope and do not hope to involve ourselves in. When I remark that a story is movie-like, it places the story and person in a different category of extremity. The statement, in a way, questions the reality of the story – like saying that is so [absurd, hilarious, scary, etc.] that it cannot be “real life.” Do we “allow” movies to shape our view of our circumstances and “real life”? Or are movies acutely successful at portraying real life scenarios?
Regarding the points the original poster and Stephanie make about our reduced attention span and our modern disjointed way of watching movies, I noticed that this observation may disagree with some assertions that Kracauer makes in his essay. Concerning propaganda and film, he writes: “The moviegoer is much in the position of a hypnotized person…he cannot help succumbing to the suggestions that invade the blank of his mind” (160). This sort of spellbound rapture that Kracauer suggests is at odds with the original poster’s description of “I’m usually watching one while I’m online, talking to friends, looking at blogs, etc”, or Stephanie’s description of “multi-tasking rather than in a darkened movie theater on a large screen.” Do you believe that the experience, or even the concept, of ‘going to see a movie’ has changed so much since Kracauer’s time that his observations about the hypnotizing nature of going to the cinema does no longer apply to today’s movie-watching environment? Are there too many distractions in the modern cinema experience for the enthralling effects described by Kracauer to be felt?
I agree with Stephanie’s analysis that there are certain moments in a film that draw us in like Kracauer describes, in which we are absorbed into the movie. I am sure that each person can recall a moment in a movie that has spoken to them in a unique, powerful way. Although this moment may have popped up between going online and talking with friends, the viewer has still ‘succumbed to the suggestions’, as Kracauer puts it, to the feelings and emotions the filmmaker intended with his or her film.
Reading Kyle’s blog response instantly brought me back to Professor John Mann’s guest lecture on documentaries. Kyle writes, “I would go so far as to say [the way we watch movies] very well has contributed to our shortened attention spans”. Movement, as Karcauecer describes, is “something attractive and captivating” (158), the representations of which “cause a stir in deep bodily layers” (158). The amount of movement in films has undoubtedly increased as our attention spans have decreased – affecting all genres, even documentaries. As Professor Mann suggested, the existence of b-roll can be attributed to the assumption that you must constantly keep the attention of your audience. The audience is not able to watch an interview without being entertained in an additional way. As the lead poster suggests, people are rarely solely committed to watching a movie. Perhaps the necessity of multitasking in order to watch today’s movies – i.e. following along with the dialogue of an interview in a documentary, looking at the pictures and various clippings in b-roll, listening to background music, all the while attributing each new fact to a broader theme – has primed us to be able to multitask other things while watching movies.
Reading Karcauecer’s piece – specifically the section regarding documentaries – made me rethink our discussion last week on photography. While I still believe candid photography can better represent a culture than staged, I am not quite sure if it is ever fully possible to represent a culture using a specific medium. Karcauecer writes, “Everybody tends to believe that pictures taken on the spot cannot lie. Obviously they can” (161). Even the lighting can play a trick on us; it can provide an optical illusion that could drastically change the viewer’s perception of the situation. In my opinion, a big component of the success of documentaries is the ability to trick the audience into thinking each scene is live footage. Despite the fact Karcauecer suggests, “assuming a film passed off as a neutral documentary does not include scenes staged for the purpose in mind but confines itself, as it should, to rendering reality pure and simple” is ridiculous, I often cannot help it – and I am sure I am not the only one. Maybe this is what he suggests about a lowered consciousness. Even though I knew the scenes of Man on Wire were mostly reenacted, the fact I never questioned their authenticity precisely proves my point. It is when a movie prevents the viewer from rationalizing alternatives to the situation at hand that it has its biggest effect.
I agree with Paulina in that we continue to watch conventional, predictable movies that we know we will have some sort of interaction with. However, I also think the type of movie we select is directly associated with our shorter attention spans. Reiterating what was said in the first post, people seem to be multitasking more and more while they watch movies. Therefore, we choose movies that follow similar plot types that most commonly stimulate the emotional response we are seeking.
As Kracauer stated, cinemas present a “release from the grip of consciousness.” People often exaggerate their experiences in stories by relating them to movie scenarios. Any person can account for a time they felt a unique connection to a movie character or scene that they either relate to a memory or a situation they hope to experience in their future.
We pick out scenes and situations from movies and use them to explain the extreme circumstances of reality. These exaggerated stories create a fictional perspective of reality for the subject of the gossip. As Kate stated, “Cinema has created this alternate reality of exaggerated scenarios.” Are movies beginning to depict such accurate realities that people are losing their concept of fiction and non-fiction?
In regard to Rachel's question on why we watch predictable movies, I agree with Kate in that movies which portray "real life" plot lines tend to exaggerate outcomes which never seem to be reality but are always desired. Comparatively, Kate asked why we put a level of trust in movies to portray real life circumstances. It may be that this trust stems from watching movies with familiar plot lines: if there is a pattern in movies to have the same story and outcome, then they must occur in everyday life. Additionally, characters who have flaws or imperfections seem to be more relatable to viewers. In romantic comedies for example, the main character is usually a person who leads an imperfect life but desires another person who seems perfect. In Kracauer's essay, he shows that viewers "identify [themselves] with [cinema's] images," including the imperfect characters in romantic comedies. Usually at the end of these movies, the flawed character gets the man or woman of his or her dreams and they make a perfect couple who live happily ever after. Audiences "accept [movies] emotionally," as Kracauer argues, for movies are "bound to cater to the alleged desires and daydreams of the public." We as an audience tend to gravitate toward things that are familiar to us, in other words, what Dr. Pandian states in his essay, "delineated emotional moods"--similar moods that are shared with a majority of people.
--Geena St. Andrew
To answer the question posed by Matthew and build off of what was suggested by many of you, the role of the film in modern society has changed gravely even since Kracauer's article was published in 1997. I would argue that the role the cinema plays in our new, modernized lives differs greatly:
Firstly, it is less of a multi-sensual experience than that which is described by Kracauer. Kracauer defines cinema as having to "provoke reactions in deep psychological layers comprising behavior hab- its, psychosomatic preferences", but in our modern times I would argue cinema is greatly different. If we look at cinema from the perspective being purely what we see and experience when we see a movie in the theater, it differs greatly from what we experience when we watch a movie at home. As many of the above blog comments point out, cinema is no longer primarily viewed in theater, but has begun to be viewed more and more in people's private residences or even alone in their bedrooms whilst doing a multitude of other tasks.
Jillian astutely pointed out that we now tend to watch cinema whilst performing a multitude of other tasks. It is no longer, in my opinion, a means by which we can go to experience another world but is something we use to fill 'noise' when we are busy or distracted with other things.
We noted whilst studying the radio that many people left the radio on to reduce feelings of loneliness and fill what otherwise would be 'void' time. I think that in the modern age we are using cinema more and more to do this-- even in a movie theater, many people sit and text on their phones as opposed to watching the movie. We also seem to be doing the same thing when we are alone cooking, studying or even relaxing with our friends.
The role of cinema that Kracauer defined only slightly more than a decade ago seems to have completely changed, and a re-examination is necessary to determine what it's new role in our societies is specifically.
Kracauer's analysis of the spectator and the film, made me think of my own reactions to films and how I become part of the film when I watch it. Movie theatre's are the perfect place to be absorbed into a film since there are little distractions around, and it is so dark all you can visually focus on are the images on the screen. I found the question posted above, "Why do we often choose conventional, predictable movies rather than ones that are innovative and will make us experience a new type of spectatorship?" very perplexing. I think this is a question of "emotion" vs. "affect" that Professor Pandian talked about. If you are familiar with particular plot lines and the emotions attached to them, you will watch these films, knowing you will have a connection to them. For example, romantic films are often popular due to connections with out own experiences and feelings of love and attraction, even though they all have similar plot lines (girl meets guy, guy/girl fall in love, guy/girl screws up, forgive each other and come running back to each other). I think Rutherford gets at the "affect" part of film that attracts our attention. Since most of the viewers of Nowhere to Hide are probably not gang fighters and do not share similar experiences, its harder to find an emotional connection with the film, though it could inspire some feelings of tension or suspense that spectators may connect to other experiences of their own. The connection between the film and the spectators in Nowhere to Hide is going to be through inexperience, and attention attracting fighting scenes, unexpected musical choice and actin, and bright colors or lighting. We are still immersed in the film, but this time out of unfamiliarity. The fact that we tend to watch predictable movies that we already understand, instead of those with which we could learn from or experience new feelings and thought could translate to the fact that film's purpose is more one of pleasure rather than learning. Maybe we'd rather not step out of our comfort zone for film, and instead be comforted by film. The fact that our attention spans are not what they used to be for films could also be a sign of this.
The main theme of our three reading assignments this week was about how emotion and affect work on the self during the screening of a film, and how these factors are worked into a film by the filmmakers themselves.
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