So, as I progress through the semester I see themes emerging. This semester I find a couple things from my past coming back to haunt me. What things? Well, first off I admit that I haven't seen as many "classic" films as I should. How does this haunt me you ask? Simple. Orson Welles. See, not only did I get to watch Citizen Kane, but also two of his Shakespeare adaptations (Othello and Falstaff). Sure, I should have been expecting it for taking a Shakespeare film and literature class. This brings me to my other haunt. See, I took English Literature in high school. Apparently, I was feeling hoity-toity at the time. So, of course I got enough Shakespeare to shake a stick at. You'd think I'd learn, but no - I took a Shakespeare class as a literature gen ed in my quest for an associate's degree. Now, I continue on this quest and am taking the aforementioned film and literature class. But like Welles, who escaped my film analysis class, the Bard refuses to be contained. Thank you "Interpretation of Literature" for giving me more Shakespeare than I could handle.
I expected to learn things that carried over into other classes, but come on! In the same semester?
10.25.2005
10.21.2005
Happy Birthday, Dad!
So, the US Senate has finally removed their heads from their posteriors. Okay, not really, but finally there's a hard date when the digital-analog conversion will happen. April 7, 2009 - or, the day before my Old man's 60th birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad! Here's a nice new digital signal to go on that new big screen TV (that I know you're going to buy between now and then).
For full details
My favorite news site
For full details
My favorite news site
10.12.2005
What have I gotten into?
So, I realize that I'm really studying Cinema as a cop-out so I don't have to admit that I'm studying English. See, I figure that movies are a (underappreciated) form of literature that are worth studying. Here's the problem: there are those (let's call them cinephiles) who believe that EVERYTHING in a picture has a meaning. It's not too far removed from students of literature who believe that every word in a great novel is chosen with deliberation and purpose. As such, we spend a lot of time wondering why we hear street cars in the background, and why this character was wearing red in this scene and blue in that one. See if this analogy works, it's like walking through, say a forest and stopping at every oak, elm, and birch and asking them why they chose to grow at that particular spot.
Here's the real problem. In literature it is concievable that every word was thought out. In film, there are techniques that can be emphasized (note the mood the next time a screen is predominantly warm (red/orange) or cool (blue/green)). But the simple problem of filmmaking is that unintentional stuff sometimes works its way in. An example I always think of is in the 1931 version of Frankenstein that involves the monster being killed in a windmill. Why a windmill? Because the director saw a windmill in the logo at a bakery he frequented and thought it would look good. That's it. What's so deep about that. (This also leads to the oft-heard phrase: Sometimes a windmill is just a windmill).
It's just frustrating that sometimes the cinephiles get so wrapped up in their awe at technical prowess that they ignore the fact that the film didn't have a good story, or perhaps more importantly wasn't enjoyable to the casual viewer. Now, understand that I believe that the viewer should have to work on some level to enjoy the film (i.e. it shouldn't all be spelled out for them), but what's the point to a complete mind-fuck that no one understands? Exhibit A (acutally B, Frankenstein was A): Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The movie messes with you on so many levels, but you don't walk away wondering what just happened. It's a ride.
So here you go, here's my simple litmus test. Her name is Kim. See, I've kind of made it a point to not bore Kim with all the inane nonsense that I learn in class. She doesn't care about diegesis and misc-en-scene, et al. So, when I watch a movie with Kim, I gauge her reaction to it. Admittedly, I think she's a smart girl and probably not indicative of the masses, but she does represent an intelligent reader. If she doesn't get it - or if the supposedly impressive technicalities don't affect her, I know that it just doesn't work. (My fall back is Dad, he's pretty good in these regards too, but partly because he's even farther removed from what I'm working on than Kim is). See, if I have to sit there and translate what's on the screen for Kim, then it's not worth the effort. I don't care what the cinephile says.
On an amusing side note: check out this link from my favorite news site
Bloggers use web sites as therapy - Who knew?
Here's the real problem. In literature it is concievable that every word was thought out. In film, there are techniques that can be emphasized (note the mood the next time a screen is predominantly warm (red/orange) or cool (blue/green)). But the simple problem of filmmaking is that unintentional stuff sometimes works its way in. An example I always think of is in the 1931 version of Frankenstein that involves the monster being killed in a windmill. Why a windmill? Because the director saw a windmill in the logo at a bakery he frequented and thought it would look good. That's it. What's so deep about that. (This also leads to the oft-heard phrase: Sometimes a windmill is just a windmill).
It's just frustrating that sometimes the cinephiles get so wrapped up in their awe at technical prowess that they ignore the fact that the film didn't have a good story, or perhaps more importantly wasn't enjoyable to the casual viewer. Now, understand that I believe that the viewer should have to work on some level to enjoy the film (i.e. it shouldn't all be spelled out for them), but what's the point to a complete mind-fuck that no one understands? Exhibit A (acutally B, Frankenstein was A): Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The movie messes with you on so many levels, but you don't walk away wondering what just happened. It's a ride.
So here you go, here's my simple litmus test. Her name is Kim. See, I've kind of made it a point to not bore Kim with all the inane nonsense that I learn in class. She doesn't care about diegesis and misc-en-scene, et al. So, when I watch a movie with Kim, I gauge her reaction to it. Admittedly, I think she's a smart girl and probably not indicative of the masses, but she does represent an intelligent reader. If she doesn't get it - or if the supposedly impressive technicalities don't affect her, I know that it just doesn't work. (My fall back is Dad, he's pretty good in these regards too, but partly because he's even farther removed from what I'm working on than Kim is). See, if I have to sit there and translate what's on the screen for Kim, then it's not worth the effort. I don't care what the cinephile says.
On an amusing side note: check out this link from my favorite news site
Bloggers use web sites as therapy - Who knew?
10.05.2005
Did Rumsfeld go here?
So, I'm wandering about the UI library's stacks as I tend to do from time to time. I happened to be in the section regarding technical aspects of filmmaking (editing, camera operation, boring technical crap like that). Anywho, on my way out I glance at the books to my left and found a wealth of military strategy and general warmongering texts. No, I did not find "How to build your own army for $40 a day." The weird part is when I turned and looked at the stack opposite. It was all about oil, how it affects economies, the importance of it, etc. Frankly, it was a little unnerving.
