Sunday, 1 June 2014

Revolution, On-screen and Off... Film Review: Battleship Potemkin

Sergei Eisenstein is often considered to be one of the most complex film directors of his time. Simultaneously artist and engineer, Jewish and bisexual, his cinematic creativity and innovation were often overshadowed by his strong political agenda, and his films collectively mark him as one of the most significant filmmakers of the communist regime. His second full-length feature, Battleship Potemkin (1925), aroused such shock in its audience that it was banned in multiple countries, primarily because of its portrayal of violence. Eisenstein’s primary aim was to create a propaganda film showing the horror and oppression of the Tsarist regime, in particular by portraying a massacre of innocent civilians by Nicholas II’s troops in the famous Odessa Steps sequence. It is said that he was eating a cherry and threw away the stone, and the idea for the falling pram came as it bounced down steps. Seeing that steps are like the world tilted forwards to form a stage, he decided that murder should be filmed on such a stage. Eisenstein developed his ground-breaking editing techniques and “ploughed the mind of the audience,”1 and the film took the world by storm. It was admired by Charlie Chaplin, Walt Disney and Joseph Goebbels. Many critics claim that Battleship Potemkin merely justifies violence. However, the humanism in the film is hard to miss, and it could also be argued that it instructs the audience in making a revolution, but also highlights the desire for peace that comes from conflict.

Battleship Potemkin can be viewed simultaneously as a work of art, showcasing ingenious new creative techniques, and as a government propaganda film, designed not only to inform and entertain but to influence the viewer. The primary aim of the director if we reflect upon the film in relation to its intended audience is control, through fear and anger. Eisenstein makes full use of a viewer’s natural fear of change and the unknown in order to make the film more memorable. An example of this can be seen at the opening of Act Five, ‘Meeting the Squadron.’ As the Potemkin turns its guns upon the town of Odessa, three brief, consecutive shots of stone lions combine in quick succession to generate the impression that the lion is alive, and jumping to its feet. The resulting image is disconcerting; not only has the attack produced “an upheaval that shakes even statues to life,”2 but the violence and conflict occurring around has caused even a lion, the traditional symbol of bravery, to start in fear. It is likely that Eisenstein was aiming to unnerve the audience with this. The alteration of the reality of Tsarist Russia into the new world of the revolution is reflected by the bending of reality with the moving lion, and is likely to yield a primitive reaction in the audience; the revulsion and fear of things that cannot be. The lion is one of the only things that comes to life in Battleship Potemkin. The themes of death, and more importantly the threat of death are paramount when dictating audience response.

Ultimately, Eisenstein’s aims in creating Battleship Potemkin are twofold. As a dedicated advocate of and propaganda creator for the Soviet government, his primary concern was to make a film heralding the acts of bravery which led to the overturn of the Tsarist regime. Numerous narrative and cinematographic techniques conspire to present a powerful, if one-sided view of the 1905 revolution. Villains are entirely evil and heroes faultless in this simple plot which, as the director intended, has the power to raise strong political convictions out of the audience. This is achieved not only through the film’s portrayal of violent oppression of innocent civilians by armed forces, but also by appealing to our sympathetic human nature. By using images and situations which dictate the audience’s emotional reactions, such as the image of the crushed boy, the pram in peril or the martyred sailor, Eisenstein is able to forge a deeper connection with the audience based on empathy, rather than one merely made through shock and anger. Thus, as well as his strong socialist principles, Eisenstein’s humanism also shines through, showing his sympathy and identification with the oppressed common workers. However, despite this, Eisenstein’s political convictions never manage to overshadow his passion and flair as an artist and filmmaker. His development and use of cinematography and editing, in particular his employment of Soviet montage, continue to make the film as technically relevant today as it was upon release, and many of his ideas and techniques continue to be employed by and inspire directors today.

Wednesday, 9 April 2014

Welcome to Icarus Two... Film Review: Sunshine

Iconic and brilliant British director Danny Boyle conquers yet another genre with his masterful sci-fi epic Sunshine. From the grimy, drug-addled underbelly of Edinburgh discovered in Trainspotting to the sinister idyll of The Beach, Sunshine is one of Boyle's more profound, meditative works, and, in my opinion, his best. Its parents? The pedigree lineage of Tarkovsky’s Solaris and Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Its children? Moon, starring a lonely Sam Rockwell and, most recently, Alfonso CuarĂ³n’s nail-biting Gravity.

The film adeptly employs some of the classic science-fiction tropes of old, such as oxygen privation, mysterious signals, and unexplained, violent occurrences, yet it still manages to be entirely, terrifyingly innovative. With the fate of the world at stake, an international cast from as far afield as Japan and Malaysia is ingenious, and one example of Sunshine's superiority over its larger-budget US counterparts. The thinly-sketched crew roles are one of the film’s weaknesses, but everything, from the effects to the script and the pacing, is done with such skill that we find ourselves rooting for them anyway.

Sunshine may not have the gleeful evil of Shallow Grave, or the crowd-pleasing tricks of the Slumdog Millionaire giant which eclipsed it a year later. Neither too does Cillian Murphy nor Chris Evans have the star power to solely carry it on their tinfoil-clad shoulders. What Sunshine does instead is leave a deep, lasting impact on you. This is partly because of the score; John Murphy’s stunning Adagio in D Minor, which makes the pivotal sequences all the more gut-wrenching, sticks in the mind far longer than any high-budget special effects. Sunshine’s deeper metaphysical questions, less ‘are we alone in the universe’ than ‘what are we to the universe?’ prove that the film has brains to match its high-concept, even as the third act descends a little too far into horror territory, with Murphy being pursued by a manic ex-crewmember (Mark Strong). His character's punishment perhaps, for daring to think that we are anything more than the third rock from the sun.

Tuesday, 18 March 2014

Make it from the Movies - Another Earth


Having seen Mike Cahill's sad, touching sci-fi drama Another Earth, who could forget the multitude of resonating images presented to us on the screen? Whether it's the huge, beautiful Earth 2 ever present in the sky of each scene, or the shocking final shot, what could be better than having your own little piece of Another Earth to keep at home with you? Just to remind you that, perhaps, we're not alone in the universe...


http://www.chicaandjo.com/2008/05/08/magic-folding-wooden-photo-cubes/

This website has the best instructions for making your own version of Rhoda's cool folding puzzle cube. Use big square pictures of planets for an accurate representation of the original, or catch the pictures of the promotional one below. Get making!

Sunday, 16 March 2014

Have Yourself a Merry Little War... Film Review: Meet Me in St Louis

When discussing his new film, producer Arthur Freed declared that he would make it “into the most delightful piece of Americana ever.” With the nation in the grip of the Second World War, the Hollywood studios, while hoping to simultaneously inflame public hatred of the Nazis and quieten any fears of defeat, stampeded to produce films which accordingly celebrated patriotism and encouraged escapism. This began in 1939 with the release of blissful, romantic epics such as Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz, and resulted in the production of many films throughout the 1940s which showcased plucky heroes and family values, from Disney’s Pinocchio to John Ford’s The Grapes of Wrath (both 1940). Perhaps one of the most memorable and beloved of these, however, is Meet Me in St Louis (Minnelli, 1944). The film’s eternal appeal is not difficult to pinpoint; the casting of well-known favourites such as Judy Garland, Mary Astor and Margaret O’Brien combine with a repertoire of relentlessly memorable songs, from the catchy and cheerful “The Trolley Song” to the wistful “Boy Next Door,” to perfectly capture and deliver the public need for hope over anxiety. What struck me most about Meet Me in St Louis, however, was the filmmakers’ willingness to address the American fear of displacement at this time, and turn this into an unforgettable yet meaningful film.

A lengthy and expensive scriptwriting process was just the beginning of the uncertainty and trouble that shadowed the production of Meet Me in St. Louis. The Sally Benson stories on which it was based were digressive and anecdotal, and so had to be vastly cut down, eliminating scenes in several new locations as well as a whole other family of characters. The result lends a very insular, almost stifling feel to the film, with the family as a community coming first, and very few scenes taking place outside of the home set. Even as the world comes to St Louis, in the form of the 1904 Purchase Exposition, the film is still entirely concerned with the fate of the Smiths and their little household, whose entire story hinges on their unwillingness to leave town and live somewhere new. Minnelli celebrates this fact even with Esther’s closing line, “Right here where we live. Right here in St. Louis.”

In making one of the most charged and unusual musicals of Hollywood’s prime era, Vincente Minnelli manages to perfectly blend his genius in both the genres of musical, such as the opening scene in which the title song is seamlessly picked up by different members of the Smith family, and melodrama, for example within the dark, long takes of the Halloween sequence. In my opinion, it is in its treatment of its themes that Meet Me in St Louis most excels. The fears of change, movement and unfamiliarity which were driving America at the time are addressed and reassured within the film, from the showpiece trolley sequence, the family values and the near worship of the titular hometown. Minnelli manages to inject pathos and joy at precise moments, allowing the film’s influences on the audience to be fine-tuned so as to provide maximum effect.


Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Fashion Inspiration - Russia on Film

Some looks inspired by my favourite Russian-set films and TV shows! Time to get dressed up!

Ride out the revolution in style with these cosy babushka essentials.

Russian Doll - Doctor Zhivago


Feel like lost royalty? With an outfit like this you'll be discovered in no time!

Russian Princess - Anastasia


Feeling ill? Blow them all away with a sharp, professional look courtesy of Daniel Radcliffe.

Russian Doctor - A Young Doctor's Notebook


Float through the grand halls of the Winter Palace with these pretty ideas.

Russian Fairy - Russian Ark


Seduce the count - or anyone for that matter - and be the belle of the ball in splendid opulence.

Russian Aristocrat - Anna Karenina

Monday, 3 June 2013

Love is Frozen... Wider Reading 17: Annabel Lee

Composed in May 1849, Edgar Allen Poe's last complete work was not published until shortly after his death that same year. Poe himself made sure the poem would be seen in print. He gave a copy to Rufus Wilmot Griswold, his personal rival, another to John Thompson to repay a $5 debt, and sold a copy to Sartain's Union Magazine for publication. It is unclear to whom the eponymous Annabel Lee is referring. Biographers and critics often suggest Poe's frequent use of the theme of death, particularly of beautiful women, stems from the repeated loss of women throughout his own life, including his mother Eliza Poe and his foster mother Frances Allan. Biographers often interpret that "Annabel Lee" was written for Poe's wife Virginia, who had died two years prior. "Annabel Lee" and Poe’s other works were an inspiration for Vladimir Nabokov in his novel Lolita (1955), in which the narrator, as a child, falls in love with the terminally ill Annabel Leigh "in a princedom by the sea". Originally, Nabokov titled the novel The Kingdom by the Sea.

The speaker laments the death of his childhood sweetheart, Annabel Lee, reminiscing about their time together and defies even angels and demons to tear his love apart. Poe often associated death with the freezing and capturing of beauty, and “Annabel Lee” is no exception. Just as words can suspend and encapsulate a single moment, so can this poem capture the idyllic childhood romance of the speaker and Annabel. The poem specifically mentions the youth of the unnamed narrator and of Annabel Lee, and it celebrates child-like emotions in a way consistent with the ideals of the Romantic era. Many Romantics from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries viewed adulthood as a corruption of the purer instincts of childhood, and they preferred nature to society because they considered it to be a better and more instinctive state.

The name "Annabel Lee" continues the pattern of a number of Poe's names for his dead women, which contain the lulling but melancholy "L" sound. Furthermore, "Annabel Lee" has a peaceful, musical rhythm and makes heavy use of the refrain phrases "in this kingdom by the sea" and "of the beautiful Annabel Lee.” In particular, although the poem's stanzas have a somewhat irregular length and structure, the poet continually emphasizes the three words "me," "Lee," and "sea," enforcing the linked nature of these concepts within the poem.



Annabel Lee - Quotations

Sunday, 2 June 2013

Love is Patriotic... Wider Reading 16: Henry V

It is a commonly held belief that Shakespeare's Henry V was the first to be performed at the new Globe Theatre in the spring of 1599. Since then, the story of the victor of Agincourt has been performed and adapted many times, with the dashing king as a prominent historical figure. Many types of love are explored within the play, the most obvious of which is patriotism and love of one's country. When Henry calls for his army to "Follow [their] spirit, and upon this charge / Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!" they are portraying their strength in terms of their love for England and its king. During the play Henry also experiences the loss of many of his friends and family members, who he remembers gratefully as loving him as a man despite his high status.

Henry's wooing of Katherine - or as he calls her, Kate - at first superficially appears to be the charming comical awkwardness of a soldier talkinh to an aristocratic lady. But Katherine knows that "the tongues of men are full of deceits", and for all his insistences on lacking eloquence Henry's speech is lengthy and highbrow. Katherine asks, "Is it possible dat I sould love de enemie of France?". To the king, and probably most others, the match with Katherine is a marriage of national conquest, not of human love. Henry is obliged to answer that he is not the enemy of France - quite the opposite. That this marriage is about rapacity for land rather than love is clear from Henry's rhapsodizing about France itself. At best, after some banter about the language barrier, "I love thee cruelly", he protests, letting slip a Janus-faced adjective. He believes calling her "a good soldier-breeder" is an appeal to maternal instincts.

After substantially more dissertation from Henry, Katherine punctures the hypocrisy of all this - the pretense that any fate is in her hands - by noting that the match is entirely up to her father. Although the Princess and Alice insist it is not French custom for ladies to kiss before marriage, Henry kisses her. The French nobles return, and Burgundy explains Katherine's resistence as maidens' natural modesty regarding Cupid. Henry declares, "Yet they do wink and yield, as love is blind and enforces". Historically, Henry married Catherine de Valois on 2 June 1420. Here, it may not be so much a marriage as a rape dressed up in ceremony. With the French conceding all, the "conquest" is achieved and all look forward, incorrectly as the audience knows, to a lasting peace.



Henry v - Quotations