Five Minutes in Taxi Driver

(8:44-13:44)

The new Travis interrupting the cycle.

These are the five most valuable minutes in Taxi Driver, in my opinion. This is the segment in which Travis Bickle contemplates his loneliness and the "long, continuous chain" that is his daily life. Suddenly, there is a change. His rumination leads him to consult a traveling arms dealer and begin to strengthen his body through exercise and abstinence. These are key to the overarching narrative of Travis's desire to rid New York City (and the world, by extension) of all of its dirt and filth. Indeed, they are two significant factors in his eventual attempt to do so.

Scorsese's partner-in-crime, so to speak.

This part of the film relates to Martin Scorsese's work in a multitude of ways. Scorsese's work often incorporates elements of this scene such as guns and crime. Additionally, in several of his films, protagonists struggle throughout in order to change themselves, be it for better or for worse. Finally, for Taxi Driver, Scorsese employed an actor with whom he has worked many times since: Robert De Niro. With Taxi Driver as their second collaboration, the pair established a precedent as they have worked together six times since (eight times total).

 As stated, this segment is absolutely essential to the film's overall plot. Travis's ironic loneliness is explicitly stated for the first time; it has followed him his whole life. This, in conjunction with the repetitive monotony of his taxi-driving life lead to his evolution. He purchases the guns that will later save himself and Iris, and begins cleansing his body through a strict workout regimen and ceasing the use of "destroyers of [his] body."

The American Anti-Hero

The American anti-hero "reshaped American cinema." The rise of the anti-hero occurred for four reasons, each indicating that "American culture is not really influenced by its cinema. American cinema though, in some ways, is a reflection of the culture."


Firstly, after World War II, America had essentially become a new country: "the era of the Sergeant York's and Mr. Smith's was washed away by the bloody surf at Normandy and the shockwave of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima. America had lost its innocence for good and needed new kinds of heroes to lead the way." Just as the country itself had evolved, so too did its peoples' ideals and desires.


Additionally, as the people began to rebel more and more against social norms, they wanted their influences to rebel just as much. America's youth "began to become disenchanted and cynical with the very idea of being good, especially when faced with overbearing authority figures. This all leads to a revolution of the father figure, thus altering heroic concepts all together." 


Furthermore, audiences began to crave more realistic protagonists. Whereas earlier films had focused on characters solving large-scale problems, films of the Anti-Hero Golden Age concerned characters with smaller sights: solving their own issues, with less emphasis on valor. Anti-heroes "gave back to the audience a sense of something tangible
lost or gained" and would "come to represent America's growing uneasiness and skepticism about true courage and heroism." Although many such protagonists failed in the end, their refusal to go down without a fight struck a chord with audiences.


Lastly, anti-heroes came to represent the true American spirit, good or bad. Pioneers of the anti-hero understood that "people in general do wrong, but understanding how someone we like can do wrong reflects our own misgivings and failures to do the right thing." Anti-heroes, in their reflection of the average American, delved deeply into the true meaning of being an American.

Intensified Continuity

     In this article by David Bordwell, the film theorist and historian details the four central reasons as to why he believes film continuity has intensified over the last forty years.
     First, he explains that "movies are being cut faster now," in terms of average shot length (ASL). The  ASL of Hollywood feature films decreased from eight to eleven seconds from the thirties to sixties to six to eight in the mid- to late-sixties, and continued steadily to three to six seconds in 1999 and 2000. Additionally, the shot types have changed, as dialogue shots are more brief and establishing shots have become less common.
     Secondly, developments of lenses led to changes in typical lens length. From the 1930s on, wide angle lenses became more prevalent as it "provide[s] expansive establishing shots, medium shots with strong foreground/background interplay, and grotesque close-ups." Longer lenses were "available to frame close-ups, medium shots, over-the-shoulder shots, and even establishing shots." 
     The third cause for intensified continuity was the capability for more tightly framed dialogue scenes. Whereas from the 1930s to 1960s directors favored two-shots ending at knee or thigh level, post-60s films began to employ "'singles': medium shots or close-ups showing only one player." This allowed for further emphasis on certain lines or emotions; thus, actors now are "principally faces." 
     Fourth and finally, Bordwell explains the effect of a more mobile camera. Along with the advent of sound in films, "camera movement became a mainstay of popular cinema," in techniques such as tracking, crane shots, and circling/spiraling shots.

Soviet Montage and Formalism x Andre Bazin and Realism

Soviet Montage and Formalism

     Vsevolod Pudovkin's "constructive editing" argued that each shot should be of new significance to the story. This should be done, he believed, not by the shot itself but in its placement. For example, he perceived D.W. Griffith's use of close-ups as meaningless; his close-ups, however, were carefully placed along with other specific details in montage so as to express his messages. Essentially, in formalism the most important part of filmmaking is not the material, but how it is utilized.

     Similarly to his student Pudovkin's idea of constructive editing, Lev Kuleshov believed that cinematic messages stem from smaller details placed together. This is reflected in the Kuleshov effect: emotional meaning (and the viewer's formation of it) are reliant on the filmmaker's juxtaposition of the shots as opposed to the actor's performance. He performed an experiment with amateur actors to reinforce this belief. A proponent of this concept is Alfred Hitchcock; for example, in Rear Window, protagonist LB Jeffries spies on his courtyard neighbors; the shots are placed so as to imply specific emotions.

     Sergei Eisenstein believed that life was constantly in a state of change and to this end applied it to his filmmaking. In editing, he used incomplete shots that held significance to the overall film as opposed to themselves-Eisensteinian montage. This technique is applied in Battleship Potemkin's "Odessa Step Sequence" in that the cuts are out of continuity and not necessarily related; instead, there are shots and reaction shots of several characters, allowing for a greater sense of the general attitude of the characters.

Andre Bazin and Realism

     Andre Bazin's dislike of classical and formalistic films was due to their uses of editing. In Bazin's opinion, editing a scene rendered it ineffective because it was unrealistic in that its meanings were determined as opposed to ambiguous. Furthermore, he thought that formalists, in creating the meanings of/for their scenes, were manipulating the audience and thus preventing them from formulating their own meanings.

     In filmmaking, realists strive mainly for allowing the audience to interpret their work in their own ways. This is accomplished by intentional ambiguity and not emphasizing any specific aspects of their film.

     The techniques the filmmakers use to achieve the above rely heavily on cinematography and NOT editing, or doing so as little as possible. Said cinematography includes long shots, wide screen, lengthy takes, deep focus, panning, craning, or tilting rather than cutting. These allow the audience to make observations and make based opinions instead of being guided to the filmmakers's desired reactions.

"Arrival of a Train" x "Damsel in Distress"

The great differences in these short films are reflective of the evolution of the medium over time.

In the camera work of "Arrival of a Train," there is little in terms of shot composition or angle. The only subjects are the train and its passengers, shot at a somewhat nondescript angle. There is zero movement. It is a single-shot film, also known as a sequence shot. The cinematography of "Damsel in Distress" is much more significant. As with "Arrival of a Train," each shot is composed of its main subject; however, due to development in techniques there are varying shots. The brevity of each shot also adds to the film's suspense.

In "Arrival," there is no editing given that it is composed of a single, lengthy shot. Therefore, its editing can be classified as realism. "Damsel" is cut to continuity and cause-and-effect relationships are displayed, such as that between the damsel and the dog. As stated, each shot is cut quickly to add tension--an example of classical cutting. "Damsel's" editing is a part of classicism.

There is little narrative in "Arrival;" a train arrives at a station and some passengers exit while others board. The film is devoid of suspense, message, or (one could argue) a story. In "Damsel," the narrative is clear: a woman, trapped by a villain on a railroad track and with a train approaching, calls for her dog to summon help. Again, this clarity is due to advancements in filmmaking, specifically the capabilities for shot variety and editing.

Short Film Commentary - Retrospect

Rationale

My first IB Film production, “Retrospect,” was created by XTCStudios, consisting of Charles Mak, Shaheed Allie, Xeryus Collins, and myself. The treatment we used was Charles’s; essentially, a teen comes to terms with the death of his best friend. I feel we chose this treatment because of its simplicity, at least relative to the other proposed plots. Furthermore, attempting a drama for our first IB project (as opposed to an easier genre) allowed for a worthy first test of our skills. Lastly, one of our objectives could be easily accomplished with this idea: incorporating time, which we did using flashbacks.

Commentary
The first thing we did upon having our treatment and pitch greenlit was establish roles for production. Given my year of experience editing, I was assigned the job of editor. However, I feel that despite being named roles, all four of us impacted every decision in such a way that we could each be reasoned as having a different role. I, for example, in addition to editing our final piece, acted as a general consultant to Charles, the director; for some shots, handled the camera in place of our cinematographer, Shaheed; and collaborated directly with Xeryus in sound design. I also had a substantial role in writing our script.
But enough on that. As the editor, I was obviously in charge of editing, implying that my responsibilities lay solely in post-production. However, this is incorrect, as I have learned that the editor must always remain vigilant. During pre-production and while shooting, I had to ensure that every concept expressed could actually be attainable. Occasionally, one of my teammates would perk up with an idea, but I would be forced to reject it given that it was quite unlikely. For example, Charles voiced his desire to utilize a rack focus; I informed him that the equipment we had available would make this notably difficult, not to mention the fact that none of us had any experience or knowledge of how to do so. Contrarily, while I didn’t believe we could succeed in using the basketball rolling as a transition into a flashback, I was surprised to find that making said transition was actually rather easy and ended up one of the high points of my work.

Run Lola Run Presentation Critique- Writing

My group--Jen Lewis, Edgar Tejeda, and myself-- discussed Run Lola Run's writing. My slides analyze the characters' speech and motifs, symbols, and metaphors; they are the second through fifth slides.

My first slide explains the use of dialogue in the film. It's used sparingly, and as such that which is present is informative and easy to understand--for example, the homeless man's first words are, "The bag!" Other problems are revealed through actions and cinematography; Manni's reaction to realizing that he has left the bag on the train, and the cutting between this and the bag show his new problem. These in conjunction contribute to the realism of the film, in that they reflect daily life more than, say, a lengthy internal monologue would.

My final three slides each depict a motif, symbol, or metaphor that I observed. The first was the 100,000 marks, which symbolized Lola and Manni's problem and solution--their problem is recovering 100,000 marks in order to save Manni's life, while the solution is to do just that. The metaphor I identified was the soccer game. It is a metaphor for the entire movie in that none of the three scenarios are the "true" one--they are all theory. This, by extension, also foreshadows the multiple endings as each is entirely theoretical. Lastly, I stated that spirals are a prominent visual motif throughout Run Lola Run. Unlike circles, which return to the exact same point endlessly, spirals are unwound, meaning that they return to similar points until they end. This is akin to the characters' actions throughout the three scenarios in that they each act similarly, but not exactly the same, until each scenario ends. The spiral in other ways than literally: the roulette ball spinning around the wheel until it comes to rest in a slot, or in the cinematography as the camera panning around the telephone booth until stopping in front of Manni and the blind woman.

"The Package" Treatment

There is a lone traveler, a teenage boy, trotting down the empty road. Carrying nothing but a package, he is calm but wary. He is already behind schedule--he should have reached the checkpoint an hour ago. The man was going to have his head for this.

The traveler stops dead in his tracks. He does a slow, deliberate check of his surroundings. The eyes--he feels them. He knows they are there, but he doesn't know where "there" is. He clutches the small box in his hand, standing still as stone. His eyes dart back and forth, waiting.

A nearby bush rattles ever-so-slightly, and not by force of the wind. He sees it.

The boy, without a moment's hesitation, darts down the road. Looking back, he counts two of them. He lowers his head and ventures on.

Suddenly, in the distance a great mass looms. Another squad of the enemy. The boy veers off course into an abandoned building. He takes refuge behind a rusty machine.

The boy checks the time--the contents of the package would expire in just five minutes. He needs to get out; exiting the locker, he leaves through the back door and meets a godsend--an elevator. He gets in and pushes the only button. Emerging from his musty confines, he cannot resist a cough. The enemies hear him; he runs.

The checkpoint is in sight! He is going to do it--he will succeed!

The shouts of his pursuers do not fade; they get louder. Maybe he isn't going to succeed. The boy feels a sharp pain in his ribs, followed by the feeling of weightlessness one gets from being airborne. The enemy is tackling him. He passes out.

The boy wakes up to the smirking faces of his best friends. They taunt him on his loss. He hands over the ball they pretend is a package, and in return they pick him up from the floor and dust him off. Laughing, the boys walk off into the distance.

Character in Time: The Shark Kid

The boy, clad in naught but his underwear, feels the frigid morning breeze on every inch of bare skin. He waits at the edge of the deck in eager anticipation. When he senses the subtle stirs of the shark six feet under, he dives in.

As the shark flails around impatiently near the bottom, the boy awaits his chance. Slowly but surely, it approaches. The boy swiftly grasps its tail; it does not resist. It knows the boy.

Although the two are nearly the same size, the shark has no difficulty zooming through the clear ocean. Its stamina seems infinite.

The same rush that the boy feels every morning arrives--the pure bliss that accompanies your one true passion. This is what he was born to do. This is what he would die doing.

Suddenly, he is assaulted by a flurry of memories. His first meeting with the shark years ago, his first ride with the shark, the first time he nearly drowned. Thoughts flow through his mind like the two in the water.

The boy awakens abruptly, the hours in the dream taking place in just a few real-life minutes. He begins to sob. Why must his imagination tease him so? Why did he have such marvelous, phantasmagorical dreams while he lived such a boring life? The boy weeps openly; his parents in the next room simply ignore him. They are used to this.

"Who's Gonna Save My Soul?"

The short film I'm analyzing is "Who's Gonna Save My Soul?" directed by Chris Milk. While the film takes its name from a Gnarls Barkley song and exists mainly to promote said song, it is not necessarily a music video; however, the song can be heard prominently throughout. It depicts a break-up that is difficult for one party but not the other.

That is indeed his heart on the plate.

The entirety of this film takes place inside of a diner, and nearly every single shot is of either the protagonist, his girlfriend, or his (literal and metaphorical) heart. Thus, the viewer's focus goes directly to and lies entirely on the these three characters and their plight. The lack of any setting aside from the diner ensures that the plot is of the utmost importance. Additionally, even after the protagonist cuts his heart out, the viewer's focus continues to lie on the two speaking characters, as per the rule of thirds. Their faces lie on two of the intersections (key areas of interest).

For the most part, the camera sits just a short distance from the subjects and never goes further. However, at times, the subject is much closer (i.e. over-the-shoulder shots). The angle, similarly, is constant throughout- neutral, and either from the side or front of the subject. One unique shot, however, is the opening point-of-view. Whereas these usually portray the emotion of other characters, this POV shows our protagonist's emotion as his hands block the two from eye contact.

The third and fourth people to appear are the waitress
and the patron at the counter, respectively.

Again, there is little to no notable detail aside from the characters. The cinematographer's clear intention was for the focus to remain on the subjects and plot more than anything else. Until the heart becomes sentient, the presence of other people is rarely even acknowledged--a grand total of three humans appear before that shot.

Lastly, the lighting and color. The film uses a "mid-key" lighting scheme. While there are shadows that indicate a more somber tone, sunlight contrasts this in order to lighten the mood. There is a color scheme that may or may not be intentional: the Caucasian man, wearing a light yellow dress shirt, versus the African-American woman, dressed in a gray shirt.