Citizen Kane and Movie Shots

Ah, yes. Citizen Kane. Often regarded as not only ONE of the best films of all time, but THE best film of all time, this movie was groundbreaking for it's time, often regarded as one of the greatest films to mark the 20th century. Unlike many other films of its time, this was an epic mystery-thriller tale that embodied almost a Great Gatsby-feel of wonder, romance, and timeless entity that marked it as unique for it's time period and defines why it has lasted so well in the modern world of cinema.

For myself, the most defining part of this movie were the shots. Many of the shots were custom-fitted for their scenes, trying to depict some sort of concrete ideology that would be cemented in what the film itself is trying to portray. Take the image to the left. This is a low shot, which typically is supposed to represent power and some idea of force within one character on screen. Almost NO movies in this time-period were able to create any sort of likeness to this symbolization of film and identity, and not only does Kane manage to pull it off, but the end result is gorgeous. By purposely cutting a hole in the floor and filming the scene from the ground up, the same sense of convening power for the man in the room is very, very prevalent and allows for the viewer to see the character in an almost poetic-sort of state of mind.

This same sort of metaphor is furthered in the famous 'Hall of Mirrors' scene to the right. There's a curious use of camera shots here, which combines a full-body depiction of Kane himself surrounded by an infinite number of reflections. The metaphor here is very interesting. In doing the shot this way and placing thousands and thousands of Kanes together next to each other, it furthers the spiritual development that Kane is slowly exposing himself to the world as the darker, truer human being that he is, as well as he is able to see himself in a new light. In doing so, lest he has let us believe for the entire film, Kane is not an invincible man, as the mirror, with its thousands and thousands of reflections, depicts him as weaker, as less significant, and stylistically speaking it drives further the emphasis that Kane is developing as a character.

Now, unfortunately, Citizen Kane's shots are not perfect. The one that stuck out to me was one of the first shots of the movie, where the audience is treated to an extreme close-up of Kane's lips uttering the important phrase 'Rosebud.' Now, this scene is really, really, really, really gross. No one wants to have to look at Kane's facial hair, regardless if the attention is on what he says. As a result, the audience is so distracted by just how disgusting his lips look and takes away from the true essence of what he's trying to say, especially because the 'Rosebud' phrase is the backbone of the movie's entire plot line. Personally, I think the better way to go about this particular part of the movie would be a close up of Kane's face, seeing his eyes stare into the background as the audience tries to understand his last reach of reality before Charles Foster Kane's life comes to an end.

One of the best examples of a close-up carrying the entire message of a movie is the scene of the yacht sinking in Martin Scorsese's masterpiece "The Wolf of Wall Street." As antihero Jordan Belfort comes to the realization that his life may be cut short, he desires to take the most powerful drug he owns in the last few moments of his life. As the camera focuses in on his face, the audience not only sees the desperation of how badly he wants the drugs, but also how his life, his crimes, his wife, his kids, his felonies, how everything is finally falling apart the way it was always supposed to in the end, and as a result, the total paranoia in his eyes is captured, and the sends the most powerful message of the film that inevitability cannot be escaped.

Overall, the most powerful part of Citizen Kane is its shots. While not all of them are perfect, they were revolutionary for the period and the decade, and it will continue to embody the film industry as a landmark for years and years to come.

MYST 5: Flatland

I hate math. Like a lot. So, surprise. I liked this little 2007 animated adventure about math. And by 'adventure,' I mean 'fable,' because this is NOT a movie for kids. Intellectually, and idealistically.

19th century mathematician and professor Edwin Abbot's magnum opus is a very ancient work of mathematical fiction known as 'Flatland.' It describes a beautiful world where there are only two known dimensions: length, and width. Now, the story is told from the perspective of the main protagonist, A. Square, and his journey into the mysterious worlds of the previously unknown 1st, present second, and mythical yet beautiful 3rd dimensions. As well, with it's very impacting animation and symbolization, this movie adaption of the 1800s classic piece of modern mathematical theory also provides the subtlety of a minor religious allegory, giving it a fresh perspective and a whole new identity of meaning.

'Flatland' is a two-dimensional world. Thus, the majority of the movie is shot in two dimensions, which is very different from almost anything else that the cinematic world is used to. Even in the realm of the modern movie, there are very few movies that take other approach from 3 dimensions. Even cartoon movies in the modern cinematic scene are shot within the realms of the 3rd dimension. As a result, this new approach to giving the audience a piece of visual candy is a breath of fresh air, and makes the movie unique in trying something new to define a standard.

As well, the complexity of the story-line is beautiful, if not sound. What's so deliciously satisfying about 'Flatland' is how smart the movie really is. Even to an audience, such as myself, who is not necessarily into the mathematical world, the concept of metaphorical and physical dimensional representation is not only spectacular, but also sophisticated and the movie most of the time does a very elegant job in defining the mathematical complexities of visiting different dimensions, and makes the story much more engaging to a more sophisticated audience.

The other very well-done part of this film is the editing and filmography of Flatland itself. In this two-dimensional world, the polygonal citizens are intricately detailed, and the surrounding environment, while bland at times, can be very enriching and offer a deeper perspective into a world that isn't necessarily deep. As a result, the movie can be very aesthetically pleasing to watch, and while the movie is obviously unknown and most likely underfunded, it nevertheless provides a solid sight for sore eyes, with respect to the presentation of the world of Flatland.

However, there are parts of this movie that, at times, make it almost unbearable to watch.

The 3D animation of Spaceland is absolutely horrible. Granted, the producers and editors are trying to establish the constant theme of polygonal symmetry, and as a result are trying to make Spaceland as simple as they can possibly be. However, the result literally looks like real garbage. Take, for example, the image on the right. This is literally one of the most important characters not only in the book, but also in the movie. The Sphere is the only true connection to the outside world, and symbolizes divine perfection. However, because of the terrible editing and animation, this 'divine perfection' ends up being about as divine as Satan himself. It's almost pathetic how little it seems the animators cared about how fluid the 3-dimensional world should look.

Secondly, some of the voice acting is horrible. Granted, I'll cut this movie some slack because of how little of a budget it had, and some of the voice acting is actually quite good. However, with respect to some of the bratty, chatty, crappy screeches made by some of the female characters, as well as some of the completely overdone English and American fake-outs in Spaceland, the result becomes more badgering to listen to than it does to enjoy, and because of the complex nature of Flatland's story, it becomes very difficult to bear.

Thus, a movie difficult not only to watch but also to listen to is not a good combination at all.

However, the most beautiful thing about 'Flatland' as a movie is it's ability to turn the book 180 degrees on its head. The metaphorical representation in the movie is something that very few movies, if any movies at all, are able to accomplish because they really cannot merge their complex meanings with purposeful, meaningful exigence. 'Flatland,' however, does this beautifully, taking the relativism of chromatic rebellion and mathematical differences and slowly weaving them into a religious allegory parodying the heinous actions taken by monarch across the history of Europe. This parallel in-turn allows Abbot's complex ideals of multidimensional theory to come front and center, and are easily understood by the common viewer in the way that 'Flatland' as a novel is not necessarily understood. And it's this intelligence that this little movie contains that makes it so memorable, despite its numerous shortcomings.

Overall, 'Flatland' is a very, very smart movie. In terms of its editing, its cinematography, its voice-acting, it remains a little sub-par. Trying to balance solid acting with horribly-intertwined dialogue, as well as the frightening 3-dimensional models that turn Spaceland into a child's horrible nightmare, the movie is very smart. It's very refreshing to see a movie that really understands the complex nature of its source material, and it does stay very true to the book, touching upon some of 'Flatland's' most important scenes (the First Arrival of the Sphere, the Lineland Dream, the Hubris of the and Pointlander, the Excursion of B. Square), while maintaining the story and ethos that creates the logical flow of the movie's somewhat-laughable editing.

So, while this isn't the best 'movie,' I was impressed, because this was a movie that really just wanted to make you think. And that's exactly what it did.

I give 'Flatland' a 7/10.

MYST 4: Tim Burton's "Big Eyes"

If you couldn't tell throughout the majority of my blog posts, I'm a total Tim Burton junkie. Hell, 3 of my favorite movies of ALL TIME have been directed by this creative genius who has, in my mind, reinvented the definition of romance, the power of the insane, and the beauty of the madness. I mean, 'The Corpse Bride,' 'Beetlejuice,' 'Edward Scissorhands,' the man has this beautifully twisted imagination that can screw so many different stories so many different ways, and redefines the message of 'elegance.'

However, no director is without his or her faults, and unfortunately for Tim Burton, he's had quite a few stumbles along his path of success. For every 'Corpse Bride,' we've been presented with such garbage as 'Planet of the Apes' and the atrociously horrendous 'Dark Shadows' (if Willy Wonka and the Addams Family had a twisted son diagnosed with psychological insanity, you have part of the idea of what 'Shadows' is). A lot of the times, when Burton steps outside of his realm of comfort, the results can either be one of the greatest spectacles of defining a director breaking type-casting (think "Big Fish"), or a sputtering, disgusting mess (sorry, Burton, but "Apes" was about as bad as they come).

So, imagine my fear going into a biographical drama, that's right, biographical drama directed by Edward Freaking Scissorhands, and not knowing where the direction would go.

However, this movie may not just be the best Tim Burton motion picture in recent years, but may be one of Tim Burton's finest movies, ever.

The story revolves around the controversy of Margaret Keane, portrayed absolutely beautifully by a perfectly-casted Amy Adams, who created the 'Big Eyes' movement, revolving around painting eyes on a face too large to symbolize their metaphor as 'windows to the soul.' Unfortunately, her work is stolen under the guise of her new husband, Walter Keane, and Margaret is forced into the shadows, her work lost in the confusion and glittery reality of the San Francisco world of art.

Right off the bat, this doesn't sound like a Burton film. In fact, there's more of a 'Nicholas Sparks' aspect to the rawness of the emotion felt by the characters. Right off the bat we're introduced to Margaret, who is shown running out of her husband's house in the FIRST SCENE of the movie. Off the bat, because of a mix of long shots and close-ups to signify Margaret's fear as well as her symbolically represented placement in the San Francisco community, the logic of her being so nervous and afraid of seemingly the entire world around her is portrayed beautifully, with Adams never making any sort of mistake in representing Keane's fear.

Now, the most strikingly beautiful concept of the movie is the obvious metaphor of eyes. As a result, the most commonly represented angle and shot throughout the majority of the piece is the close-up, which is documenting the importance and relevance to the character's emotions, whether that be fear or anxiety or excitement. Burton utilizes a wonderful combination of elemental shots that enhance the focus the audience member draws particularly on the eyes, and as a result, it creates a much more moving tone and enhancement to the film itself, particularly in the church scene that doctrines Margaret during a session of confession. By zooming in close-up to her face and focusing in on her eyes, we can see the weakness she feels and notice that she's constantly shifting her gaze, obviously confused and worried for the future. And this happens on a constant, keeping the audience member intensely entranced in what Adam's 'Margaret Keane' has to emotionally offer.

Amy Adams is not the only standout actor here. In fact, the portrayal by Christoph Waltz of 'Walter Keaton' is what gives the biographical drama its more 'Tim Burton' feel. Walter is a much more psychologically engaged character, who centers the universe around himself and wants to always be near the center of attention. Waltz's portrayal is lively, energetic, and when he needs to be, absolutely insane (however, no spoilers!). The actors work beautifully together, feeling love in the moment and hatred in the darkest depths, and because both actors carry such an intense passion for their work or their secrecy, all of the dialogue feels natural, with almost no breaks that give away any sort of awkward position.

While this is nowhere near Tim Burton's usual romp, there are elements that maintain his similar symbolization. For example, the soundtrack, attributed to musical genius and legend Danny Elfman makes sure that the movie runs on-pace with the beauty of the art being presented, and the darker, more mellow tones help to appeal the idea of consciousness and taking in surrounding beauty. None of it feels rushed, or unnatural, or forced, or anything of the sort, but instead really feels as though it's a natural part of the movie that carries it along like a metaphorical wave.

As well, the entire tone of the movie is intense and deep, but not completely the Tim Burton zany and crazy that we've grown so accustomed to over the years. In fact, this almost feels more like an 'Ed Wood' or an 'Edward Scissorhands,' because it's a much more mature movie with a mature storyline and wants to have and present a mature message. Unlike some of his previous romps, this isn't trying to appeal to a mass audience, but instead caters to those who have an appreciation for the complexity of art, and can see the metaphors laden underneath the pieces of the story.

The movie also appeals very well to a feminist ideology and sends a very secretive, but noticeable, political message within it's contextual framework. From the Catholic Priest in support of patriarchy to the demonstrations of rich men taking beautiful women for themselves, the perception of women as objects runs prevalent until Margaret begins to make these sorts of realizations for herself. The subtlety of the message is there, but the power it convenes of supporting the woman in the fight against social indiscretion is not only relevant to modern issue, but it is presented in a fashion more elegant and mature than political movies trying to do the same thing.

Overall, I've got nothing bad to say about this movie. Honestly, I spent the last 30 minutes of this movie looking for any sort of plot hole, any sort of missing piece, any sort of problem, and I couldn't find it. The politics are beautiful, the acting is completely on-point, the message is clear, the cinematography is mature, and against all odds, it really does feel like a Tim Burton film. While these 'big eyes' are the sorts of creatures that Burton would manifest, the maturity and true sophistication of this new Tim Burton tale are what make it a must-see for anyone, fans or enemies of Tim Burton alike.

I give 'Big Eyes' a 10/10.

1930s Custom Film: Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle"

 Up to the 1930s, America was going through a time of political shift. There was a growth in the movement of the individual in the face of the 'man,' where political movements were going away from the stance of small-government and implementation, and with the rise of communism in the East, the draw of socialism was a powerful beast in the land of American identity. The country faces the problems of immigration, mass-population, and worst of all, reform movements within industry that were causing stirs of job growth. As a result, there's a growing restlessness amongst the population, and for so many people, the principles were embodied in the 1906 Socialist Epic "The Jungle." And it's these political themes that would drive an incredible movie in the 1930 movie monopoly.

"The Jungle" is a 1906 novel by Upton Sinclair, about an immigrant named Jurgis, who works at a meatpacking plant and is exposed to the harsh reality of working alongside grime, dirt, gross, disgusting treatments and processing fundamentals that result in the development of disease, e-Coli, and health violations that shocked the American public. As well, 'Jungle' is a social commentary  on the treatment of immigrants in American society, with such indiscretions happening to Jurgis as the rape of his wife, the deaths of his closest friends because of the work they do, and other things like that.

Because of the political nature of the book, the movie tie-in would follow some sort of biopic or epic film. The book itself is long, and the story, like films such as 'Schindler's List' and 'Lincoln,' and would require some sort of studio that focuses on longer films that have some sort of 'epic' quality to them. As a result, I think the best studio that would fit the criteria of the movie that I'm trying to make would be Warner Brothers Studios, because they're mostly known for movies containing grit and raw displays of disgust and reality, which is why they would help to portray the gritty realities and harsh environments of the 'Jungle's' universe.

The two actors that would define Jurgis and his wife would be Humphrey Bogart and Bette Davis. Davis is known for her portrayals of unsophisticated characters who felt against the social norm, and allowed this idea of the feminine ideology to rise up, which would be the perfect fit for the character of Jurgis's wife. On the other hand, Humphrey Bogart carries this really strong 'noir' feel for his movies, which embody the darker sense of reality and don't have any sort of strong tie against usual perceptions of happiness and goodness.

My director would be George Cukor. He's very known for his literary adaptions throughout the time period, and because of how much familiarity he carries throughout the genre and its counterparts, it would be best for someone with his experience to be in-charge of some sort of epic biopic film like this. I would also hire Anne Bauchens for the editor of the movie, because I think her award for 'Cleopatra' would give her the same sort of epic experience editing a movie like 'The Jungle.' As a result, she would be an almost perfect fit.

The movie would be black and white. The movement to color would not help this movie, because the movie is supposed to represent this concept of drab, grey, bleak identity that is forced upon the American nation in the midst of the industrial powerhouse that was the American economy. As well, because the movie is being supplied through smoke, mirrors, and drab natures, the need for color would almost hurt the movie more than it would help them. As a result, to go alongside Bogart's noir path, it would help make the movie more successful.

The Hays Code would hurt my movie a little bit. There's a rape scene, a sex scene, and a socialist riot. While they aren't huge of majorly significant, as a result there would definitely need to be some sort of revisions on the part of the actors, editors, and directors, and while these scenes are crucial in displaying things important to the story, there isn't really anything that totally destroys the movie's plotline and most significant elements as a result.

Overall, this is my idea for the 1930s. I think some sort of biopic representation of 'The Jungle' would symbolize the socialist movement of the 20s and 30s, as well as give insight into a political commentary on immigrant treatment that would most likely stand the test of time.