Explanation of Short Film "Newsreal"

In my Canadian Experimental Film and Video class we were given the option to create an experimental film or video as an end project and provide an accompanying 5-page explanation.

Here is a link to my video "Newsreal"



And here is a variation of my final paper:

Digital technology has been hailed for the popular access that it provides to various forms of art and communication. It is also hailed for its enhancements in narrative storytelling, cartography, space exploration, anatomical record, and military mapping. (Mitchell, 3-10) This praise of the digital medium has also been met with considerable criticism. While this technology allows a new freedom in imagery, it comes with the sacrifice of the indexicality of the image and its ontological properties. The very binary composition of digital imagery, while accommodating layered manipulation, nullifies the ontology of the image. My experimental video Newsreal (2008) reflects on this notion through my wilful manipulation of digital imagery for the purposes of indicating the instable concept of ontology found in the digital image.

To compliment the analysis of this film it would be beneficial to refer to the theories of Lev Manovich. Digital technology has been revered for its advancements in storytelling traditions (with video games for example), yet Manovich insists on condemning the privilege that narrative receives during discussions of digital cinema. Digital technology may provide means of advancement in the story-telling tradition, however it violates certain revered philosophies of photography and conventional cinema. One of the defining principles of conventional cinematic processes is that cinema stresses “the aura of reality ‘captured’ on film.” (Manovich, 299) That is to say that the basic ingredient of traditional cinema is reality, organized and configured for the exposure and “capturing” onto celluloid. The images on the film are impressions of what existed at one time, in one form or another. As Manovich articulates, “Cinema is the art of the index; it is an attempt to make art of a footprint.” (Manovich, 295) Similarly, William Mitchell tastefully describes the photographic image as “fossilized light.” (Mitchell, 24) With the digitization of the image, whether through 3D computer animation or the digitization of live-action footage, the traditional cinematic image not only loses its indexical relationship with reality but also loses its privilege as the only material from which motion-pictures can be produced. The common material of digital imagery what Manovich refers to as the “pixel”, but could more accurately be identified as the binary digit. The reduction of the motion-picture to a series of androgynous digits or pixels increases its plasticity. This plasticity renders the “given truth” of the photographic image obsolete. Without indexicality, an image does not bear an existential bond with its referent, and therefore is no longer reliable as an ontological representation of reality.

The purpose of Newsreal is not to condemn digital imagery for its lack of ontology. The purpose is merely to indicate towards this philosophy and its relationship with digital imagery. The film is comprised of three parts: A war newsreel, an advertisement, and a magic show. The idea was for the film to take the form of the various clips that would have been shown before a theatrical film screening in the 1940s. I chose this period for its distinct aesthetic (for I intended to emulate it) and for the period’s imagery anchoring in indexical representation of reality. Each in its own way, the segments comment on the manipulability of the digital, and how reality becomes only a small factor in the material constructs of the digital image. Generally, I used digital filters to modify the video so that it was sepia toned. Another digital filter makes the video appear as though it was actually being projected on aged film, complete with simulated scratches on the celluloid. Additional projector and phonograph sound-effects further the film-viewing illusion. This use of digital technology immediately attempts to deceive the viewer into thinking that what they’re seeing is photographic, and therefore indexical to reality. In actuality, the raw footage in the video has passed through multiple digitization processes. All footage (whether “real” or computer engineered) was mediated through a Panasonic digital camcorder. In the case of the magic show, which was originally recorded photographically, I recorded the footage from YouTube, which is itself a digital platform.

The first segment in the film is a found-footage video collage imitating a WWII newsreel. I recorded the (digital) audio from a British news reel depicting WWII aerial raids from YouTube. I then proceeded to collect footage of various flight and war simulation video games with my digital camcorder. The games include Star Fox 64 (1997), StarCraft (1998), Body Harvest (1998), Wing Commander (1990), and Axelay (1992). I then replaced the authentic WWII footage with my newly captured, digitally constructed, video game footage, also adding in an orchestrated soundtrack. The effect is a seemingly authentic newsreel consisting entirely of computer-engineered imagery. I was able to digitally manipulate artificially-produced contemporary imagery in a way that seems period authentic, and indexical to reality. This is evidence of what Mitchell calls the mutability of the digital image. What he refers to is the rapid manipulation of digital information through the simplistic alteration of digits. “The mutability of digital data” says Manovich, “impairs the value of cinema recordings as documents of reality.” (Manovich, 307)



The second segment of the video is razor advertisement. The advertisement also stands as a metaphor. While the advertisement is attempting to sell razors, it never shows the actual razor, the razor in action, or even the effects of the razor. So while you are meant to believe that this razor is worthwhile (since we are told it is), you never see why you must believe in its proficiency. The only visual cues that support the razor’s proficiency are found-footage intellectual montages of CGI sequences from Hollywood blockbusters such as The Incredibles (2004) and Star Wars: Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005) which signify the act of shaving. All in all, there is nothing in this segment that is concretely indexical to the razor or its performance. One would not buy a product which they have not seen, and yet audiences accept illusions of CGI as believable representation of reality.



The magic show sequence is not only significant to this thesis in form, but also metaphorically. After all, performed magic can be seen as an illusory play which deceives viewers into believing what they see is real. The announcer emphasizes this by declaring, “If you don’t think seeing is believing, here’s a performer that will prove it!” Similarly, digital imagery creates illusory reality through manipulated presentation. In keeping with the theme of Newsreal, I decided to take a further step and manipulate the actual footage of the magic show. In order to emphasize the lack of ontology in the digital image I superimposed an animated clip of Winston Churchill’s face over-top of the magician’s. Thus, it is Winston Churchill’s magic show, and the digital effects employed force audiences to except it as the given truth of the image. This superimposition of digitally animated imagery over raw footage supports Lev Manovich’s claim that ontological footage becomes only one building element in a layering process when cinematic process becomes digital. Manovich adds that “cinema can no longer be clearly distinguished from animation. It is no longer an indexical media technology but, rather, a subgenre of painting.” (Manovich, 295) In a welcomed coincidental irony during the magic show, the narrator reassures the audience that “these pictures...are continuous and there are no camera tricks.”



As proven by the above examples, Newsreal reflects on this notion that the very binary composition of digital imagery, while accommodating layered manipulation, nullifies the ontology of the image. Through my wilful manipulation of digital imagery Newsreal indicates the instable concept of ontology found in the digital image. Thus, while this digital technology allows a new freedom in imagery, it comes with the sacrifice of the indexicality of the image and its ontological properties.

Bibliography:
- Mitchell, William J. The Reconfigured Eye : Visual Truth in the Post-photographic Era. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1994.
- Manovich, Lev. “Digital Cinema and the History of a Moving Image: Cinema the Art of the Index”, The Language of New Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2001

Meta-Fiction in the Controls of Metal Gear Solid 2

With the semester’s essays completed, I spent a good part of the past week playing through Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty (I’ve heard good things of the series in general and wanted to see for myself). I’ll have to admit that it took me a long time to become even remotely comfortable with games controls (I’ve never been a fan of the PS controller) and even now I’m not entirely sold on them. At points I found that one of the main challenges presented to me were navigating with these controls. In reflection of my previous blog entry, I tried to figure out why I found these controls so difficult and frustrating.



Last time I wrote about how the first-person shooter genre succeeds in putting the player within the subjective perceptual realm of the in-game character. MGS2 is primarily in third-person, however it offers the option of assuming a subjective first-person mode for investigating environments, and shooting from a vantage point behind the character’s gun.

What struck me instantly was the distinction between these two modes. The third-person view distances the player from the character, while the first-person view provides a very subjective look into the character’s experience providing extra ambient effects such as wind, breath and heart-beat noises. Several segments of the game offer the use of an in-game directional microphone that is used in the first-person mode. When using the directional microphone, the player can only hear what the microphone is pointing at, and if the player isn’t careful, they can miss out on important plot points if they do not point the microphone at specific events.

The third-person mode is seen from a fixed or preset camera position. This is unlike many Nintendo brand games that I’m used to (with the free-roving retro-posited, or player- controlled camera). An example of my preference can be seen here in Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess. This game uses a system in which the camera is easily situated behind the character, at the player’s control. The game also has an optional first-person mode for environmental investigation and arrow-shooting. Since the camera is usually situated behind the character Link, the player shares directional continuity with the character. In the same sense as the first-person shooter, the player becomes more immersed in the character’s physical functions.
MGS2 offers no control over camera angles. The camera has fixed positions and movements that are only affected by character movement. Because of this, the player never becomes immersed in the character, instead assuming the position of an omniscient puppet-master. In Zelda, control directions are always relative to the camera position, so you press up to move Link up, and press down to move Link down. In MGS2, you have no control over the camera but the control directions always stay the same, so you may have to press up on the control stick if you want to move Snake or Raiden down. I immediately saw this as negative, however I did not understand the complete implications of this control scheme until I beat the game. I would argue that the control scheme in MGS2 is a means of meta-fiction which meshes well with many of its narrative elements.



While MGS2 is by no means the first video game meta-fiction (most games address the player when teaching game rules and control functions), it effectively utilizes the video game control functions as a means of further expressing certain plot themes. From this point on I will be spoiling crucial plot surprises from the game.

Metal Gear Solid 2 develops a theme in which the main character Raiden must face questions surrounding the basic truths of his existence (offering a parallel between “real world” military training and “VR” training). Throughout the course of the game, Raiden learns that the woman he loves is a spy gathering information on him, that his commanding officer (whom he corresponded with only over transceiver) was only an AI digital representation, and that his entire life was manipulated by an international organization in an attempt in forming him into a perfect soldier. Raiden’s body is also filled with nano-machines that come to betray his sensory perception. In short, Raiden’s entire life has always been under the control of forces outside of his own. It is my belief that the game’s control scheme purposefully distances the player from the in-game character as a means of indicating the player as a controller of Raiden’s life-actions. Several sequences in the game help to back up this theory. For example, Raiden’s commanding officer Colonel Campbell radio’s Raiden shouting "Raiden, turn the game console off rightnow! ... Don't worry, it's a game! It's a game just like usual. You'll ruinyour eyes playing so close to the TV." This reference to the construct of the game suggests the canon’s willingness to include the player as a recognized controller of the in-game character’s events.



So while I found the game’s controls disruptive, I think more immersive controls would have minimized the distance between the player and the character, thus eliminating this meta-fictitious element of the game’s narrative.

"Subjectivity of the First-Person Shooter" By Adam Slight

Lately I have rekindled my passion for N64’s Goldeneye 007, and since the semester is finally winding down I’m able to find more time to play, both the single player missions as well as some riveting multiplayer matches with James Leclaire. I haven’t appreciated Goldeneye 007 this much since 1997 when the game was released (that was more than 10 years ago!). I recall the attention surrounding the game and its close imitation of the 1995 film Goldeneye. I even re-viewed the film recently and notice precise similarities between spatial layouts of sets/levels, replicated gadgets, and close character details (I recall noticing the Alec Trevelyan character in the game wearing a gold ring on his “finger”).

Playing the game this morning (the facility level) I began to apply to Goldeneye 007 some ideas that I have previously explored. As you may or may not know, I have an escalating interest in the application of cinema (and in extension, video games) to various conceptions of “real life experience” a la Andre Bazin’s “Myth of Total Cinema”. In short, I’m close to comfortable stating that I don’t think Total Cinema (cinema as an attempt at an all-encompassing recreation of reality) is a myth at all. Without getting too divergent on this topic, I’d like to skip ahead a little.

The first person shooter genre is in my eyes a very important step on the path to Total Cinema. As the name implies, in the FPS the player is the “first person” to experience what the in-game character experiences. Alternatively, second-person implies a player address, like in text- based adventures (“You find yourself at a fork in the road. Do you turn right, or left?”), while the third-person perspective suggests the player as an omniscient controller of a visibly “other” character.

First-Person

Second-Person

Third-Person

Implicitly, the first-person perspective places the player within the in-game character. As I mentioned in my colloquium presentation on video-game sound experimentation, the first-person shooter allows the player a subjective experience parallel to the in-game character. If one wishes, they may refer to Bordwell and Thompson’s "Film Art" and their discussion on Perceptual and Mental Subjectivity in traditional cinema. Perceptual subjectivity is simple; the film gives “access to what characters see and hear”. A good example of this is the Point of View shot – the shot that first-person shooter permanently assumes. While in cinema, mental subjectivity is the use of stylistic devices to provide insight to what characters think, FPS’ often simply provide perceptual subjectivity to allow players to assume their own desired mental state. Obviously this is not always the case. In Goldeneye 007 for example, coloured bars appear at the sides of the screen upon character injury (a possible visual cue for “panic”). Similarly, N64’s Perfect Dark applies a trippy, blurred slo-mo effect when Joanna Dark gets punched or sedated.

In my colloquium presentation, I focused mostly on sonic subjectivity in the FPS. Using Call of Duty 3, I indicated to several examples where in-game sound is presented to the player using surround sound technology, subjective to the character's own experience. Environmental and diegetic sounds are heard in subjectivity to the direction that the character is facing, in effect to the acoustics and conditions of the setting. The best example I can present is the “ringing ears” effect, when all sounds are deafened by a constant ringing when a grenade explodes near the character.

While I may seem enthusiastic about the FPS’ subjectivity, there are some problems that I considered while playing Goldeneye 007 this morning. There are many limitations that have yet to be overcome by the FPS’ genre. Most of these limitations are based on player perspective. While it is interesting to consider the physical relationship that the player has with the character (the player physically exerts energy and muscle to push controller buttons in order to “physically” move the in-game character through virtual space) this process is still very crude. Here is a list of limitations that I immediately notice:

- The in-game character lacks peripheral vision. This may extend to the wide-screen cinema which arguably imitates a person’s field of vision. I noticed this as I was swiftly moving around a corner in The Facility, and was unable to quickly check a blind-spot for enemies (much like checking a blind-spot while driving)

- A player’s eyes are indefinitely disconnected from the character’s. Instead of forcing a relationship between gamers’ eyes and character eyes, the game creates a contract between gamer and game which encourages the gamer to assume and inspect the character’s presented field of vision. This problem introduces many other problems such as the quality of the gamers’ eyes, the difference between player depth of field and character’s depth of field etc.

- While recent developments in dual-analogue controls have rendered the character’s legs independent of the character’s waist (players can now move in one direction but pivot/point in a separate direction), independence of the character’s neck has yet to be brought into mainstream consideration. The character’s eyes are inherently connected to the direction that he/she is pointing their weapon. I have seen variations of temporary solutions to this, most of which assume a temporary third-person perspective. This unfortunately removes a level of subjectivity from the mix. I have also seen flight simulators which detach the eyes from the weapon, allowing the player to look from side-to-side within the cockpit.


While normally a first-person shooter, Quantum of Solace also uses a third-person cover system in order to detach the character's eyes from his gun

If anyone can think of other problems with the first-person perspective, or examples that overcome some of these problems, please let me know.

Wall-E: Semiotics and Junk...

While I’ve grown up with Pixar since Toy Story hit theaters, it wasn’t until The Incredibles that I began to discover the rich detail, preparation and thought that differentiates Pixar animated films with other subordinate computer animated productions. It was this affection for Pixar that prompted me to see Wall-E as soon as I could when it was released this summer, despite the fact that I had to go see it alone on a Friday night while my little sister was on a date elsewhere in the theater. After seeing it, a repeat viewing was in order.

Since, I have been attempting to organize precisely what it was that I wanted to say about the film. The ideas were present since my first screening, however I could not find the words to articulate them. It wasn’t until I revisited semiotic theory for the purposes of several assignments in an experimental film class that I’m taking did I figure out what it was I wanted to say. Wall-E is gushing with semiotic theory.

For some time in the past I worried, as our world has become more and more dependent on text due to digital technology. Films are stored on DVD or Blu-Ray and can only be seen on its respective player while Books are only readable with knowledge of language. The reason this worries me is due to an irrational expectation of apocalypse. A sentimentality towards culture leads me to fear that it will become inaccessible.

Wall-E uses the events of an apocalypse to explore semiotics precisely in this way. Since Wall-E is an ignorant a post-apocalyptic product, he is able to live in our world out of human context. Wall-E’s obsession with the tape of Hey Dolly! and the inclusion of an Ipod in his pile of trinkets draws attention to the relationship with medium that our culture has. Wall-E separates the signs of our world from their referents—which is a root of the comedy in the film. Wall-E’s ignorance of what a bra is makes the audience laugh. He puts a bra on his eyes! Wall-E!. The film deconstructs the signs of our world to their units of figurative secondary articulation (smallest possible units of no inherent meaning) and re-constructs them differently. For example, a garbage lid becomes a hat for Wall-E.

This process also attempts to make a statement about universality. Despite Wall-E’s ability to view our symbols without referent, some things such as love seem to be iconic or universal. Wall-E is able to recognize through imitation that his feelings for Eve coincide with the feelings felt by the characters in the tape of Hey Dolly! through the act of holding hands.

Stripped of the signs that the audience are accustomed to, the humans in Wall-E add another dimension of de-contextualization. The most striking instance of this is demonstrated by the captain of The Axiom. As he learns to walk (a first for his species for several centuries), the iconic theme of 2001: A Space Odyssey is heard, mirroring the scene when apes learn to use tools. This simple association demonstrates how something that we consider trivial (walking) is monumental for humanity during this time.

I feel I have merely scratched the surface of Wall-E’s semiotic content. I may feel compelled to explore this topic more when the film reaches DVD and I watch it over and over and over.

Barbara Gamble's "Natural Affinities"

For the past year and a half I've had the privilege to work with Ottawa painter Barbara Gamble for her upcoming gallery exhibition Natural Affinities opening October 10th at the Canadian Museum of Nature. The exhibition runs until January 4th and is located on the third floor of the musuem.

Gamble's exhibition concerns itself with the vulnerable botanical species in the surrounding Ottawa area. Her methods include a layering of oil paints with wax on various canvass, metal and wood surfaces. The exhibit also includes a collection of books by 19th Century pioneer Catherine Parr Traill containing a variety of pressed plants.

My contribution to the show is a 40 second video piece focusing on a rare species of orchid found in the Ottawa area. I accompanied Gamble and several biologists to a top secret preservation site and gathered footage of the orchid. The idea of the video is to provide a visual record of the habitat of the orchid and to offer an otherwise unseen angle of the tiny flower.

I encourage anyone who wants to see some amazing paintings (and possibly my video) to check out the Canadian Museum of Nature when they have a chance.

Here is the museum's page on the exhibit: http://nature.ca/exhibits/exs/gamble/index_e.cfm

"The Dark Knight Rebuttal" by Ryan Bradley

Summer 2005. I walk out of a Batman Begins and want to slap Adam Slight in the face. How dare he make fun of the world’s greatest detective and my beloved Batman? Batman Begins reinvented a series that Joel Schumacher ran into the ground. For that alone Christopher Nolan should be applauded not to mention the fact he delivered perhaps the best superhero movie ever.

Summer 2008. I do in fact see the err of my ways and now accept some of the criticisms laid out by Adam. Batman Begins suffered from poor dialogued and some very dry scenes. The movie was not the perfect film that I once thought it to be. Nonetheless, it was still a decent comic book movie and has earned a deserved place in the superhero world along side the greats; Sin City, Spiderman 2, Batman Returns and Iron Man.

Despite my new found skepticism in this re-amped Batman franchise, I still looked forward to this The Dark Knight. Massive viral campaigning and what seemed like hundreds of trailers showing the same scenes in different orders were constantly thrown in my face. It looked amazing and it appeared that Heathy Boi (R.I.P!11!) was going to steal the show. When I saw the movie I was somehow surprised and even offended once again by Adam's review. Here we go again. Its him vs. the rest of the world – the nerds, the common movie goers and the newly found Ledger fans. Is he right? Was this movie garbage? Should people read his review and take the ravings of a madman as fact? Or Is The Dark Knight one of the greatest movies of the year? Does Heath Ledger deliver an Oscar rumored performance? Should you go out and add to the $158.4 million that this movie swept in over the past weekend?

The first attack by Mr. Slight is aimed at the soundtrack and quite frankly he mostly nails this one. The music is perhaps my greatest criticism of the movie as there are only two songs used. The movie is constantly intense and the viewer is always on edge of their seat especially in the second half of the film. Track 2 :“This Part Is Very Exciting” unnecessarily adds to the already nerve racking intensity of the film to a point where it becomes annoying. You feel like you cannot enjoy the movie at many points because that grinding song is continually playing. Track 1: “This Part Is Very Sad” is meant to be a relief from the only other song in the movie. If anything this song may be the reason that we will not see a Brokeback Mountain 2 because a certain star could not take hearing it anymore. It seemed to be played on loop just at a lower level than Track 2 so whenever Batman was not in the picture this is all you hear.

Let us now turn our attention to the acting which I do have some problems with. I could not help but wish that Rachel Dawes and Harvey Dent both got blown to millions of little pieces. I think that I showed more emotion during Princess Diaries 2 after the third time watching it. This lack of emotion was only compounded further by having some of the cheesiest and driest dialogue in what was otherwise a cleverly written movie. Nevertheless, the other characters in the movie were pulled off well while Heath Ledger lead the way. Ledger delivers the Joker in a way that I would never expected. He was tortured and torturing at the same time. Intense and scary as hell. That being said, I do not think that at the end the 5 minute Oscars montage of his mediocre movies that he should be awarded as best actor. Adam is correct - he was great but not worth digging the poor guy up for. Do not forget that we saw Sarah Jessica Parker deliver an amazing performance in this summer’s Sex and The City and she is still in the land of the living.

The final issue with this film is linked to the length, although my view on it differs SLIGHTly from Adam’s. This movie was one of the darkest and most intense movies that I have ever seen in theaters. 2 hours in, I needed a break but it continued for another 30mins. I was trying to take everything in but the length hindered me from doing so. I needed a break, not because of uninspired and bland cinematography but because the movie was so good at keeping me involved in the film. The second half of the movie is in no way like a bad case of diarrhea - unless you get diarrhea whenever you are completed drawn into a movie and never want to take your eyes off the screen. The second half is aesthetically and cinematically inspired and is definitely what could make it the best movie of the year.

The themes and ironies are in evident in this movie but it is in no way as evident and annoying as the repetition of the Fear theme in Batman Begins. All superhero movies have these themes tossed in your face which is necessary to stay true to comic book criteria. Justice and forbidden love are mixed in with the moral ambiguity in manner than it is not repetitive, not easily noticed and not annoying (Unless of course you are the Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World’s End lover Adam Slight).
This movie was excellently executed. Great story, a much better script than Batman Begins, interesting set and costume design, amazing characters and some decent acting – all combine to create a dark and intense movie experience that I have never felt at the movies before. This being said there are some flaws with this film and perhaps it was not exactly the masterpiece that most claim it to be. It was still a great movie and in a year that has not been the best for stellar films The Dark Knight is among the top. It is highly unlikely that you will want your evening back but see it for yourself. Don’t accept this to be a masterpiece until you have thought about it. Ignore the blogs, critics and any chump that tries to tell you that you are an idiot for hating or loving a movie.

"The Dark Knight Review" or "The Friday Night I'll Never Get Back" by Adam Slight

As many have known in the past, when Batman Begins came out I was one of the few people in the world who didn’t like it. For the longest time I fought an exhaustive crusade defending my tastes and position from Batman zealots and radicals. After the dust had settled the trailer for The Dark Knight hit the screens. The funny thing about trailers is that they are designed to make movies very appealing. I thought, “This is nice, The Dark Knight looks a lot better than Batman Begins”. With that thought in mind I decided to revisit Batman Begins with an open mind after all these years in hopes that I could find it in myself to enjoy the movie. Upon reviewing Batman Begins I was able to set aside my previous hatred and enjoy the film as a flawed, but above-average superhero film. I’d put Batman Begins, Spiderman 1&2 and X-2 on the top of the superhero movie food-chain.

So with this new open-mindedness towards the Batman reboot franchise I was growing quite excited for The Dark Knight. The film was treated to astronomical reviews and Heath Ledger’s performance has been heavily decorated for the past few months. I had been assured that this was the movie to see. Last Friday evening I saw The Dark Knight and to put it frankly I wish I could have my Friday evening back.

While I’m normally not a fan of reviews or writing reviews, I feel it is important for me to state why I disliked The Dark Knight so much, as I am up against a world of crazies. I am often accused of having a bias against The Dark Knight, or even a closed mind. If The Dark Knight was really such a masterpiece I think it would be very difficult for me to sustain a closed mind, especially considering the positive expectations I’ve had since the beginning. I tried to like this movie, and trying wasn’t enough.

So here is my review:

The Dark Knight essentially has two songs in the soundtrack: “This Part Is Very Sad” and “This Part is Very Exciting”. The film uses these two songs to instill emotions into the audience, emotions that the film otherwise doesn’t have. A moving soundtrack is a cheap trick that films with no emotional dynamics use to manipulate the audience’s heart-strings. In the case of The Dark Knight, music was used to compensate for the stale, emotionless dialogue being uttered by a predominantly stiff actors. I’m not just saying this. Watch Batman Begins, or re-watch The Dark Knight and actually look for this stuff. Its like being at a funeral for three hours.

One thing I’ll credit the movie for is the set and character design. Aesthetically everything -looked- cool: The Joker’s make-up, Batman’s costume, the towering skyline of Gotham. Unfortunately this rich set-design was wasted with extremely uninspired and bland cinematography. I can honestly say that I can’t remember half of what happened in that movie because so much happened in the same places, and the monotonous dialogue and cinematography gave me nothing memorable to distinguish scenes from each other. Remember, this is the movie whose first hour includes an almost completely unnecessary legal tirade involving a global chase for some accountant guy that really amounts to nothing. After an hour of legal banter in offices I felt like I could pass the bar exam. This hour of office chatter represents a fraction of the copious amounts of filler hot-air packed into this movie. And why do they have this filler in there, when the last hour of the movie is like a bad case of diarrhea: Its all over the place, and it just won’t stop. Ultimately the length of this movie made me feel like it was a long day at work and I just wanted it out of there.

I think the reason why a lot of people didn’t really get bothered by this was Heath Ledger. I’m not going to bash him too much. He was definitely an enjoyable entity in the movie however I’d only say his acting was above average. The thing is, when one or two critics start a chain reaction before long everyone is walking into the movie expecting to see the best performance of the decade. How bad does it look professionally when a critic decides to give a negative review when 90% of the industry is drinking Ledger’s clown piss from a golden chalice? With those kinds of expectations, the late Mr. Ledger has most of the audience eating out of his cold dead hands. He could go up on screen and fart the entire movie and people would love it. I thought he was great, but I don’t think it’s worth digging up his grave to stick an Oscar into his coffin.

Now for the biggest crime of them all: These Batman films simply love to latch onto certain themes and ironies and beat them to a living pulp. Like Batman Begins: OK! We know the theme of this movie is fear! Stop driving it into my skull. The Dark Knight was so obvious about the fact that yes, this movie is about moral ambiguity. We get it thank you. Additionally, The Dark Knight loves to play up the irony card. OMG – the villains are torturing their victims the way they were tortured! How clever! Oh look, its happening again and again and again…this is so dramatic! Repetition is a device this movie thrives on. Is this really the deep writing that critics are all crapping their pants over?

In the end the dramatic scenes were bland and emotionless and far too plentiful and the fighting scenes gave me seizures. This ocean of mediocrity dwarfs the few moments that I thought were actually cool, beautiful and intelligent. Its hard to see past all the clown make-up, but there you’ll see the cold and calculated gears of a movie designed for the sole purpose of tricking the audience into thinking the movie is a masterpiece.

Why do I think this and 99% of the world thinks the opposite? This is a battle I need to fight one inch at a time. If you haven't watched it yet, or plan on watching it again...please try to remember this review!

"Revisiting Sound in Video Games: The Road to Total Cinema?" By Adam Slight

On March 28th of this year I presented an essay at the Carleton University Film Studies Undergraduate Colloquium. Allow me to briefly summarize this essay before I continue:

As technology develops, video games have become more and more cinematic (film-like) to the point where games are almost films that one controls. Arguably, there is little visual difference between a film and modern video game. However as far as sound design goes, I argued that video games have surpassed film.

Using mostly examples from the Nintendo Wii, I demonstrated how the interactivity of the video game medium has allowed greater freedom in sound design experimentation than film. Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess has put the player in control of how the game score plays out depending on how the player performs (slow walking=subtle music, horse riding=epic music, monster fighting=dramatic music; all within the same scoring sequence) and Super Mario Galaxy has demonstrated how music, sound effect and player action can interact to create unique sonic experiences.

I also demonstrated how video games such as Medal of Honor can present realistic, interactive sonic environments. In games such as these, sound is put into the perspective of the character/player immersing the player in a life-like environment. This is reminiscent of André Bazin’s theory of Total Cinema. In this theory, Bazin argues that conventional cinema is only one step in a historical progression in which mankind attempts to build a life-like, all-encompassing recreation of reality (think The Matrix). Video games such as Medal of Honor represent the next step in this progression towards artificial reality.

Lastly, I mentioned how games such as Guitar Hero and Rock Band put the player in control of the video game’s soundtrack. The delivery of the soundtrack depends of the success of the player in playing the video game. I also briefly showcased the Nintendo DS game Elektroplankton. This game was designed with few goals beyond those of free-play of sound experimentation and manipulation.

During the question period proceeding the presentation I was made aware of several interesting arguments against some of my claims. Most arguments were directed towards my use of the word “interactivity” and addressed the actual extent to which interactivity can actually apply to video games. I was told to read Jesper Juul’s Half-Real: Video Games Between Real Rules and Fictional Worlds which discussing many founding theoretical ideas surrounding the emerging field of video game theory as well as game theory in general. I have since read this book and would like to defend and redefine my claim.

As the title of Juul’s book implies, video games can be seen as a system of real rules (in that they actually apply) as well as fictional worlds (the fictional elements that disguise the rules). The real rules come to define the fiction of the game, and the fiction defines the rules. This was brought to my attention during the question period. How can one truly interact with a progressive game such Super Mario Galaxy when the choices and options that the game presents are already pre-designed. When one plays Super Mario Galaxy they are playing within the confines of the rules. As far as sound design goes, the sounds within the game are pre-recorded and pre-set and are emitted when triggered within the game realm. Thus games are not truly interactive, nor can they offer realistic decisions (as action options are severely limited).

I would like to think otherwise. We live within a system of rules. That is the rules of physics define what we can and cannot do. To expand on this, the rules of physics also define the sonic environments that we live in. With this in mind it can be considered that the limited interactivity of video games merely represents simplified real-life physical rules.

The complexities of causal sound in reality could be applied to video games. Digital technology already allows us to convert real sound into digital representation. If real sound can be represented by digits then it is possible to create realistic sound from scratch in a digital realm. If every possible nuanced sound can be represented by digital code, then hypothetically it is possible to create a mathematical system in which different sound can be produced depending on digital variables. That is to say sound in video games can be unique depending on the in-game conditions they are triggered by. No samples would be used, only in-game conditions such as surface textures, environment acoustics, impact velocity and air density. These would all be conditions that would affect the artificial reproduction of the game sounds. This would be pure interactivity.

This could no doubt apply to video game visuals. Digital technology allows accurate visual representation in visual form. Who is to say with stronger graphics capacity a realistic interactive visual environment is not possible. This would no doubt bring us closer to the Total Cinema that Bazin forecasts. This idea of immersion in a video game is discussed in Janet Murray’s Hamlet on the Holodeck and is commonly referred to as virtual reality.

Juul addresses some pitfalls to this model of video game. He uses the example of entering a car in Grand Theft Auto III. In real life there are an infinite number of ways to enter a vehicle, however in GTAIII there is only one way: Press the triangle button on the game controller. If the game required a button combination for each task required to open a car door and enter the vehicle the game would be tedious and boring. Instead the fiction of the game is simplified and stylized for player enjoyment.

So while a Total Cinema approach to video games would be revolutionary, it is possible that it would ruin the game play of the game. So perhaps Total Cinema does not lie in the video game genre, but through the video game platform. Video games themselves should always remain as games, however the technology of video games may hold the key to a lifelike and interactive Total Cinema.

"Narrative vs. Spectacle 2: Son of Narrative vs. Spectacle" By Adam Slight

In regards to my previous article “Narrative vs. Spectacle: Mortal Combat” and Philip Decloux’s commentary “Narrative vs. Spectacle: Ph.D Chim-Chimes in Support of Speed Racer”, I wish to rephrase my stance as it may have been misinterpreted. Having never seen Speed Racer (which I still intend to see as soon as I can), I cannot claim to have a decent impression of its story or convention-bending visuals, nor was it my purpose make such claims. Neither was it my strict purpose to defend Pirates of the Caribbean 3 or any effect-heavy summer blockbusters for that matter. These were merely analogies to express my rhetorical opinion: Why does story/narrative in cinema matter so much? Why does story matter at all?

While subjective taste towards one movie or another could be argued endlessly, I would like to address Decloux’s assertion that cinema stands for “taking you out of your normal, everyday life and infusing it with concentrated suspense, romance, action, adventure, or comedy”. Decloux’s claim stands as an ideal starting block for the expansion of my original point. Decloux’s opinion is that quality cinema consists of a healthy balance of narrative structure and visual spectacle. While I agree that such a balance can result in strong cinema, I would disagree that strong cinema depends upon this formula.

When I suggest that one ignores a film’s narrative in favour of its aesthetic elements, let me not be misread. I am not suggesting one to mindlessly allow the film’s visuals to filter through their brains unchecked. What makes watching cinema different from reading books? A film’s technical and visual elements can be, and are often more-so, thoughtful than the actual narrative. Should we forget the “suspense, romance, action, adventure, or comedy” in a film’s formal elements in favour of narrative structure? A single shot has the potential to have more meaning than an entire 90 minutes worth of narrative.

And must we condemn a sequence just because it comes with a hefty price tag? Money does not create ideas. I think Evil Dead would look a lot like Spiderman if it had a $150 000 000 budget. A multi-million dollar blockbuster requires immense talent to form a polished finished product. The problem is that these talented people and products do not always mix well with each other. It can be rest assured that a multi-million dollar blockbuster such as Pirates 3 will have a talented editor, cinematographer etc. in order to gain trust from financial backers.

I use films such as Pirates 3 and Speed Racer as examples for the obvious gap between visual and narrative. However, this has seemed to restrict our dialogue to the realm the blockbuster. Afterall, “spectacle” does not have to pertain to high budget effect shots. It can merely be associated with the very “attraction” that a viewer has to the visual presentation of the film. This “attraction” has been written of by soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein as well as the previously referenced Tom Gunning. Similar to that of a carnival exhibition, this “attraction” is the fabric of the visual cinematic spectacle.

Frankly, I think that claiming cinema as an escapist medium belittles the power of motion picture. By lingering around mainstream summer blockbusters we have failed to address other aesthetic functions of cinema. As stated in my previous article, the early soviets used cinema’s purely visual characteristics as a means of indentifying the uneducated masses to the soviet cause. Direct Cinema and Cinema Verité provide cinematic means to their subjects to project their agency upon the viewer. The narratives of these films seem to take a backseat to visual language and/or revelation.

Aside from various forms of documentary, animation (traditional or computer generated), avant-garde and experimental film use film spectacle as a primary means of expression, whether narrative is present or not. And often the narrative does not bear the true crux of a film’s “message” but rather the true message lies within the films’ presentation.

One may argue however that without some (even minor) system of narrative to hold it together, a film would be nothing less than a chaos of visuals. I can draw upon two examples of films that use non-narrative forms of structural organization. For the most part Disney’s Fantasia replaces narrative, instead using music to organize the spectacle of the film. Similarly, Berlin: A Symphony of a Great City uses time of day to structure a visual cinematic meditation of Berlin.

Before I spiral deeper and deeper into what is becoming dangerously close to a rant, I think it is important to address that everyone has different expectations from a movie-going experience. This reflects in the many voices of mainstream critics. Benjamin Wright responded to my “Narrative vs. Spectacle: Mortal Combat” with a noteworthy paradox:“Syndicated film critics are, by and large, trained not in film but in English literature… They can only stand in awe of the visual kinetics or reject them entirely because aesthetic criticism has never been a foundational aspect in mainstream film criticism… The flip side to this coin of criticism is the academic critic. Your only shot at informed aesthetic commentary comes from "intellectual" critics, either film students or academic writers…The problem with many in this category is their rejection of commercial filmmaking in general. So even if you're looking for a thoughtful essay on Speed Racer, you won't find one from them, since they've already dismissed it as crass commercial product or insipid, uninspired Hollywood drivel.”

So in summary, mainstream cinema (such as Speed Racer) is narrowly limited to narrative-based criticism, and most who are trained to lend formally-based criticism to mainstream blockbusters are unwilling to do so. It is not to say that scholarly formal analysis of film is more important than mainstream textual criticism. The only issue here is that the narrative, textual side is given a lot more accessibility and therefore comes to be favoured by the public.

Ultimately, I think this public focus on narrative distracts audiences from other enriched aspects of the medium. While I can not disagree that balanced attention towards narrative and technical is very positive, I think that such a balance is also close to non-existent in the mainstream sphere.

When all is said and done, it is difficult to deny the connection that spectacle and narrative share. Spectacle predominantly requires some sort of context and cause to exist (often provided by narrative). Then to conclude, perhaps I would like to state it is not my purpose to deny the validity of narrative but to open a movie-viewing perspective in which narrative lacks importance. If the film still stinks after distancing story from the spectacle, I assume no responsibility.

"Narrative VS. Spectacle: Ph. D chim-chimes in support of Speed Racer" by Philip Decloux

Ph. D (Philip Decloux) wrote this article in the Toronto Film Junkies film blog in response to Adam Slight's "Narrative vs. Spectacle: Mortal Combat":

The critics this summer have been an enigma to me. Before going to see Iron Man, I noticed that it had an unbelievable 93% rating on Rottentomatoes dot com. This, I confidently assured myself, should be the best superhero movie ever made! Look at all of that critical acclaim! I was deluding myself. While every facet of the film was polished to a mirror shine, as I walked out of the theater, I found myself... ambivalent. I started unconsciously nit-picking certainly elements of the film... the shitty, phoned in soundtrack, Terrence Howard's weak voice (and I loved him in "Hustle and Flow"!), Gwyneth Paltrow's uneven performance. Things that, while somewhat detracting from the film shouldn't affect the overall sense of satisfaction I felt from watching it. But the damage was done. Perhaps it was the overwhelmingly positive critical reception... the hyping and promoting on various websites I frequent. Somehow it couldn't possibly meet the bar that had been set.

Now that I've got my original ambivalent reaction out of the way, lets look at one thing that Iron Man got right: for one, it has a very finely tuned balance between it's superhero origin narrative, and a solid sense of spectacle. It doesn't only have one or the other, it has a very crowd-pleasing, critic appeasing blend of these two elements, and that's what has made it a success. Robert Downey Jr. is Tony Stark, and ILM did a real awesome job on the special effects. So really, unless you're a basement dwelling, scum-sucking aintitcoolnews talkbacker, you should be able to realize the success of Iron Man, as it pertains to this balancing act of Narrative and Spectacle.

It's what cinema is all about, it's about taking you out of your normal, everyday life and infusing it with concentrated suspense, romance, action, adventure, or comedy. The best films please you on the visual, purely aesthetic platform of film while engaging your mind with wit, subtext, and other things that intellectuals like to blabber about. This is why Terry Gilliam's "Brazil" is by far my favorite film that I have seen to this date. Real, vibrant cinema is about the ideal marriage of visual entertainment and storytelling. They live off each other, and if one outstrips the other, the whole suffers.

Adam has proposed that critics have panned "Speed Racer" in the same way they derided "Pirates of the Carribean 3: the World's End". He proposed that critics panned POTC3 because the film was a meandering mess, unredeemed by it's well-tuned audio-visual experience. They panned it because the movie did not live up to the promise of the first film, and the fact that it did not improve upon the second film, which was a somewhat bloated, confused CGI-fest. POTC3 didn't have a point. If we're talking about Narrative vs. Spectacle, it's a failure. No matter how impressive your 2 million dollar shot of a pirate ship exploding is, it isn't worth squat if the audience doesn't care about any of the characters or the plot. In the end, it's ridiculous to think that ILM special effects and a Hanz Zimmer score (he's as practiced as James Horner at cannibalizing his past efforts) are redeeming values. These qualities alone make a good popcorn film, but not what I would deem good cinema.

Adam is correct in asserting is that critics have unfairly panned "Speed Racer". I've seen this one twice now, both times in IMAX. Critics hated it because they couldn't get past the ground-breaking visual effects and childish sense of play that make this seem like a real-life anime-cartoon. If Adam gets to see this film (and I dearly wish him and every reader of this blog to see it before it leaves IMAX screens), he'd realise that not only have critics been unfair, but that he is (happily) mistaken in thinking (through the views of misled critics) that Speed Racer is a purely visual spectacle, or lacking "a good story". The Wachowskis have achieved quite a feat, because they made a real family film. There is heart here. There are morals to teach to the youngsters who are going to love the racing segments. I don't know why, but the critics have mistakenly ignored on the great, avant-guarde examples of Narrative-Visual cinematic art ever achieved.

We, as the film-going public, have mis-treated this film. I enjoyed it much more than Iron Man, and tons more than POTC3. If you have any sort of inner child which is not covered with the sickly burlap of cynicism, go and see this film now and realize how wrong the critics have been, and how utterly crazy the Wachowskis were to attempt to make this film.

"Narrative vs. Spectacle: Mortal Combat" By Adam Slight

Although I have yet to see Speed Racer I have noticed a common trend in its reviews. The line is divisive. On one side critics marvel at the film’s style and breaking of visual conventions. On the other side more critics simply long for a “good story”. Sometimes this can be an issue with me. Since when do movies need an in-depth story when it’s strong in its other departments?

We could blame history. Theorist Tom Gunning wrote that since 1906 cinema has increasingly been more focused on story over visual spectacle. It was in 1906 that the number of narrative-oriented films surpassed that of visually-focused film. These visual films had been able to stand on their own merely through display of images moving independently on a screen. At the time this spectacle was enough to keep audiences paying. And I bet most critics love that old stuff. So why not Speed Racer? Why is it that audience would pay for a purely visual spectacle then, but not now?

For that matter let’s use examples that I’m more familiar with. Last summer Pirates of the Caribbean 3: At World’s End hit the screens. While praised for its visuals the film widely flopped with critics due to a series of tedious and confusing plot twists. This makes me wonder when it was that pirate movies picked up the expectation to rival Shakespeare’s Macbeth? Instead of dwelling on where the film lacks, why not emphasize the film’s strengths. This scene in particular struck me as one of the most inventive and unique sequences I had ever seen in a summer blockbuster. It may not have made sense necessarily but it was executed very well. In fact the movie’s cinematography grabbed my attention for most of the film. Aside from the cinematography, the music was also noteworthy. In fact, there are plenty of elements that make up a film and yet story is most widely favoured by audiences.

But I suppose one could argue that as a summer blockbuster Pirates of the Caribbean 3 should have a balance between story and visual as to not isolate audience. This privileging of narrative has plagued technical cinema for decades. Soviet filmmaker Dziga Vertov (1896-1954) dealt with similar criticisms. Vertov felt that by seeing the world through the eye of a camera lens, the masses could achieve a higher understanding of the world they live in resulting in political revolution. Vertov avoided narrative and fiction in his films as they were bourgeois notions. Vertov’s Man With a Movie Camera was meant to mobilize the masses through the stylized representation of Russian workers. Instead, some critics felt that the “flashing of images was exhausting”.

Perhaps it can be argued that films dependent on visual spectacle should be short and sweet. After all, Pirates clocks in at 168 minutes and Man With a Movie Camera (which depends strictly on visuals) clocks in at 80 minutes. With no rest in sight it is understandable how one may have trouble sitting through these films without narrative tension driving them forward.But I’m not letting narrative off that easily.

I’m sure everyone has at least one friend who can not sit through a film without pointing out every plot hole that he or she may find. You may be watching a generally solid film with your disbelief relatively suspended by the plot, yet your friend refuses to submit. It is my own personal theory that these people refuse to allow the suspension of their disbelief in an insecure attempt to appear better or smarter than the logic of the film. Not that I condemn the heckling of a movie. I’m talking about extreme cases here.

What these people fail to grasp is that the film itself relies on such discrepancies and trickery to exist. This not only applies to narrative but also to other formal elements. First off, a film’s narrative can never be completely coherent. As a construction at the hands of a writer, a film’s narrative will always be fundamentally flawed. The audience has an advantage of viewing the events of a film’s narrative at a distance, making it easier to criticize the events and actions of the film. With this in mind, I think it is important to quickly identify what a film is going for and not resist the suspension of disbelief. After all, the visual presentation of a film also relies on audiences to submit to illusion. One easily forgets that the motion that is perceived as cinema relies on the viewer’s eyes to fail in distinguishing all 24 frames that a film presents each second. Do people feel the need to point that out every time they see a movie?

I think that people are conditioned to pay more attention to the story of a film. Not only have we been presented with narrative cinema our entire lives, but the history of narrative surpasses that of cinema by millennia. It isn’t a surprise that film has stepped up to the plate as a vehicle for story and narrative. We see the same thing happening to video games. Games that once relied entirely on game play now adopt narrative structures. For example, this is evident in the Super Smash Bros. which, with every installment, incorporates more and more storytelling elements.

We can’t forget about the purely visual aspect of cinema which originally defined the medium. There is an importance in occasionally distancing story and visual in an attempt to appreciate the spectacle. There is validity in Vertov’s desire to avoid narrative. Our culture’s emphasis on “good story” (which can be considered bourgeois…if you want) eclipses the important social functions of cinema. We more often look at films in hopes of having a good time, when often the function of cinema is the opposite.

Aside from that though, can’t we all agree that it can be fun to just go to a theater, turn our brains off, smile at the pretty lights and maybe forget about those undesirable plot twists.

"Good and Evil in Revenge of the Sith?" by Adam Slight

As I re-watched Episode III with the intention of this article in mind, I had a difficult time stringing together a strong argument that I could make about the film. Subsequently this would become my main criticism for Episode III: Its somewhat of a muddied mess of ups and downs. Lacking previous strength politically, aesthetically and emotionally, Episode III risks coming off too much as a straight effects action flick. It wasn’t until the last 20 minutes that I finally discovered what I could say about this film. After all, everyone knows Episode III is good…its just a matter of figuring out why. Although my thesis isn’t “Episode III is awesome” (I’m saving that for Ryan), I would like to point out an interesting strength that I discovered.

I had my revelation during the final moments of the lava lightsaber duel on Mustafar. Obi-Wan appeals to Anakin yelling “Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil!”, Anakin responds “From my point of view, the Jedi are evil!”. This of course is a running motif for the Jedi, first introduced in Return of the Jedi as a ghostly Obi-Wan utters “From a certain point of view”. He uses this phrase to justify lying to Luke about his father’s death. Initially Obi-Wan led Luke to believe that his father, Anakin, was murdered by Darth Vader. In actuality, Darth Vader was Anakin. According to Obi-Wan, Darth Vader did kill Anakin…from a certain point of view.

“Your father was seduced by the dark side of the Force. He ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader. When that happened, the good man who was your father was destroyed. So what I have told you was true... from a certain point of view.”

Obi-Wan continues:

“Luke, you're going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”

This is a prime example of the subjectivity of truth that we so often forget about. With this in mind, is Anakin really so wrong in proclaiming that in his point of view, the Jedi are evil? Sure, this could be an example of how the emperor twists the mentality of others. Palpatine spent decades building subtle distrust of the Jedi within Anakin’s heart. However, the possibility that we disagree with Anakin as viewers is because we have five previously made Star Wars movies that tell us that the Sith are evil, and that we must identify with the Jedi. So when we hear Anakin shout this, we are prone to hear these words from a Jedi perspective and reject them. When you watch movies like The Godfather or The Good, The Bad and The Ugly, what is it that connects the viewer to these conventionally immoral characters? We know their actions are wrong yet we still cheer for them. This is of course because we identify with them.

Let me illustrate with an example. Within the first 30 minutes of the film we see General Grievous’ flagship hurtling towards the surface of Coruscant. Inside, Anakin, Obi-Wan and Palpatine cling to their seats as Anakin haphazardly attempts to land the flaming wreckage on a landing strip. As the ship strikes the surface it recklessly slides along the pavement, smashing a nearby flight control tower. Finally the ship comes to a halt. We are relieved to see that our heroes are still in one piece.

This is because we can identify with them. We’ve already endured 30 minutes of adventure with them, not to mention 4 hours of additional adventures in Episode I and II. “Good”, we think, “They landed safely”. Yes, but what do you think the families of those who died in the demolished control tower think? I’m sure they may question the justification of recklessly attempting to salvage a flaming piece of junk for the lives of three, instead of blasting it out of the sky and preserving the lives of many within the tower.

Of course there are endless counter-arguments to the technicalities in this example, but it effectively illustrates how our identification with certain characters lead us to assume their ideologies and values.

So this brings us back to the question: Who are evil, the Jedi or the Sith. Well, both, and neither at the same time. First one must consider if the concepts of right and wrong, or good and evil are fallible. What makes the Sith evil and the Jedi good? Both have potentially redeeming qualities, depending on your point of view. While a Catholic nun may consider the Jedi’s vow of chastity, poverty and obedience to be quite comfy, Friedrich Nietzsche writes of an instinctual, passionate Dionysian state that is similar to that of Sith philosophy.

This may not be convincing enough. After all, Palpatine did orchestrate a full scale war, obliterate the Jedi order, and usurp the Galactic Republic to attain complete control of the galaxy. Even if everyone can agree that these acts were immoral or evil, Palpatine did these things to achieve order. These seemingly audacious acts are all a means to an orderly end. As long as nobody opposes the Empire, the galaxy is peaceful. Couldn’t this, from some stretch of the imagination or a certain point of view, seem good. Look at the French Revolution. While the events of the revolution were violent and bloody, history tells us to appreciate the upheaval of the French monarchy, aristocracy and clergy which preceded it.

On the other hand, the Jedi are considered to uphold peace and stability in the Empire. From an early age, they meditate the mysteries of the force and defend those who are weak. But don’t the Jedi also kill? What’s the difference between a Jedi taking one’s life and a Sith taking one’s life? The Jedi kill to defend their ideologies and the Sith kill to defend theirs. Mace Windu must kill Palpatine because he is too dangerous to be kept alive. However, Palpatine is only too dangerous to the Jedi ideology to be kept alive. If neither the Sith nor the Jedi are absolutely moral, then how can this mortal defense of the Jedi ideology be justified?

“But just look at them!” you may proclaim. After all, the Sith do look quite menacing. But why do they look menacing? Do their appearances stir primal fears within our psyches related to predatorial instincts from our past? Or is it more likely that the Sith look evil because of conventions from previous movies. In the classic western films, the good guys wore white hats and the bad guys wore black hats. I think this association with appearance and good/evil pertains to this. Besides, couldn’t we agree that Emperor Palpatine bears a striking resemblance to Pope Benedict?

Clearly there is a paradox present. Essentially the Sith are evil because they oppose the ideologies of the Jedi. Similarly, the Jedi are good because they oppose the ideologies of the Sith. But if you’re a Sith, the Jedi are evil because they oppose you. One assumes the ideology that they identify with, and assigns it the quality of “good”. The ambiguity of a set moral system makes a true “good and evil” impossible.

So perhaps Anakin was wrong, only because his conduct and the conduct of his associates (Palpatine, The Empire) conflict with the common ideologies of most audiences. Most agree that cold murder and totalitarian governments are evil. But just because we agree or disagree doesn’t make it right or wrong. Anakin became a Sith to protect the girl he loved, but ends up killing her. This failure to accomplish his set goals through Sith means could demonstrate the error of his choice.

At the end of the day the ambiguity of good and evil is readily present in Revenge of the Sith. Such distinctions are purely based in the eye of the beholder. Oh wait, the bad guys are named: Sidious, Maul, Tyrannus and Grievous. Nevermind…they are evil. Scratch everything I just said.

"All's Fair in Love and War: Justifying an Attack of the Clones" By Adam Slight

While Ryan and I could debate back and forth about the pod-race sequence like an astromech and a protocol droid, instead I will use my analysis of Attack of the Clones to demonstrate the importance of viewing Star Wars from an stand point of “as is” instead of “what should be”.

Attack of the Clones was attacked by popular critics for being wooden and awkward. By implication these critics are referring to what Star Wars “should be”. I would like to debate that Attack of the Clones, while the most anomalous installment of the six, also has some of the most interesting thematic complexities of the Saga. If the film were any different these complexities would not exist and we’d be left with a weak younger brother of Empire Strikes Back.

I compare Attack of the Clones to Empire Strikes Back because they are both “second acts” of their respective trilogies. The most dominant characteristic of the second act is that it is often the darkest and most ambiguous chapter of the story. The characters falter after a successful first act and they become unsure of themselves. This is most obvious with the Jedi Order in Attack of the Clones. Mace Windu sums it up when he says “We’re keepers of the peace, not soldiers”. It is in Attack of the Clones that the role of the Jedi becomes questioned. How far does a Jedi’s mandate go? And the question can extend to the viewer: What justifies violence?

This struggle is mirrored in Obi Wan’s quest throughout the movie which resembles that of a 1930’s gumshoe detective story. Obi Wan’s quest begins in a familiar diner with a familiar friend named Dex and from here-on, Obi-Wan delves deeper into the unknown. This is the first time the series that the Jedi must face the unfamiliar apart from the Sith. Both Kamino and Geonosis are planets outside of Republic jurisdiction. This reflects not only in the actually unfamiliarity of the planets, but also in the architecture, weaponry and creatures that are seen on these worlds. The hive-like structures, and complex factories on Geonosis inhabited by their bug-like denizens are not only foreign to Star Wars audiences but difficult for any person to relate to as familiar creatures. Their weapons are unfamiliar (are they guns? are they canons?...and what about the seismic charges?). This is also the first time we see Jedi casually killed. Obi Wan and the Jedi are up against a chaos of unknown forces. This brings to bare many questions of conduct and reveals the ambiguity of the Jedi Order.

And just when you thought things were ambiguous enough, let’s not forget about the highly criticized Anakin/Padmé love plot. It’s important to investigate what people disliked about the love plot. Primarily it is scrutinized for feeling unnatural. This is a “should be” instance, implying that it “should be” more natural. I’ll be the first to go on record that the awkward dialogue and unnatural love scenes are instrumental contributions to the film’s thematic framework. Considering most reading this essay have a theoretical interest in Star Wars, it safe to assume that they have lived their share of awkward experiences with the opposite sex. How would you act if you were a member of a sexually repressive order, fell in love with someone, dwelt on it for 10 years and finally had your chance to express your feelings? This almost justifies Anakin’s hate for sand, doesn’t it! (Wink, Wink, Nudge, Nudge). This mutual sexual confusion, and awkward dialogue (and the death of Anakin’s mother not to mention) creates tension in the characters and in audiences that further strengthens the unknown anxiety of the film.

John Williams’ score, while less grand than any other Star Wars score, further propagates the mysterious and anxious tone of the film. The love theme “Across the Stars” is more haunting than romantic as it hints to the unpredictability of their relationship and the psyches of the film’s characters.Ultimately, we can understand that within the context of the film, this anxiety comes to represent the dark side which is slowly veiling the senses of the Jedi and are becoming more and more entrenched in the events of the story. The original pending title of Attack of the Clones was actually Star Wars: Episode II: Rise of the Empire, and to risk sounding hypocritical, I’d say that would be the only “should be” that I will endorse in this essay. Let me explain.

After 90 minutes of “anxiety”, as I’ve been calling it, the viewer begins searching for some kind of catharsis or relief. In the face of such chaos George Lucas demonstrates how tyranny is born. As the viewer becomes more anxious, they are willing to accept any type of salvation. It is at this point that Chancellor Palpatine makes his plea for emergency powers and the adoption of a Republic Army. Just as the audience hopes for some order to repair the chaotic anxiety of the film, the Galactic Senate hopes Palpatine can restore order to the Galaxy – and you have to admit…you know Palpatine is evil, but you wouldn’t mind seeing those clones in action either.

And so, all this time Lucas has been building up tension in the audiences so that they feel the justification of war, autonomy and an army. Lucas demonstrates the effects of charisma on a population by using the very audience as an example. The final battle is the catharsis the audience has yearned for, and yet, we don’t have the Jedi to thank…but instead the army.

In light of the ambiguity that Attack of the Clones displays, the film concludes on a different note. The ambiguous, emotional nature of the Jedi is rectified as we see orderly legions of Clone Troopers departing for battle, off to replace the Jedi. We also see Anakin and Padmé’s chaotic love tamed by the stabilized institution of marriage. And thus The Empire is born. Does this entire scenario sound familiar to anyone?

While I defended Episode I for its “Star Warsness”, I defend Attack of the Clones for its lack thereof. It stands alone as a concise commentary on global politics and global conduct. While I may not be able to defend C-3P0’s conduct, nor the rolling in the grass, I think it is important to consider the films “as is” instead of jumping to “what should be”. You may be surprised what you find from “a certain point of view”.

"RE: Defending Episode I" By Ryan Bradley

Review of “Defending Episode 1”

I do not think that one can state that the releases of the prequels are simply of cash-cowing. In this regard I agree with the claims made be Mr. Slight. These days we are seeing more and more of our beloved movie icons, Rocky Balboa, Rambo, Indiana Jones and the Star Wars prequels, attempting to make one last stand in world of Hollywood; Are these all acts towards money grabs? or is it a simple case of bringing back our childhood heroes and giving them a new aged feel? I believe that if an honest effort has been put in to revitalizing the original then it is not simply a case of mooing for money.

So, did George Lucas try to avoid this and is Adam Slight’s support of Episode 1 justified. George clearly did attempt to add a modern twist to the classic films that have been the root of nerd wet dreams for over 30 years. This attempt grants these prequels the right to a in a galaxy far far away. The question of whether the methodology of the new films was successful utilized has raised much debate in the realm of critics, nerds, movie lovers and scholars. I must say that the defense laid out by Adam is relatively legit with a few degrees of error.

The cinematic experience that Episode 1 provided is nearly up to par with it predecessors as almost every shot in the movie counts. Lucas’ success in this matter has lead me to often catch myself smiling with glee at different points in the movie such as the Darth Maul battle. Criticism for the over use of special effects is completely unjustified. Advancements in the movie industry have made the techniques of the classic trilogy completely obsolete. Had Lucas not tried to spice up this new movie with some new special effects, I’m almost positive that he would have be scrutinized for his lack of film integrity and inability to adapt with the times. The cinematography is combined beautifully with special effects and he does not completely rely on the CGI.

The worlds and characters of the star wars universe are explored and presented with ALMOST no error. The set design the new worlds such as Naboo and old worlds like Tatooine stayed true to the beauty of the old movies as one gets a perfect feel for the atmosphere of the setting of interest. For example, Mos Eisley is still the place where “You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy ones” as seen in every shot in the city like the conversation with Sebula or the inclusion of the Hutts. The characters are also presented in such a manner where it is easy to understand how each is related to one another, the mysteries linking them all and all of their motivating forces behind their actions. Many of the character interactions exemplified in this movie are evident throughout the distinct social history of our real world. This cinematic connection used by Lucas allows the viewer to fall in love with every aspect of the worlds and immediately understand the complex relationships linking them all.

This being said, I cannot fully support Adam’s claim “To condemn Jar Jar for his silliness would be to put one’s self at risk of ethnocentricity”. This is not a matter of ethnicity by any means of the definition. Had Jar Jar been a goofy human, he would have still taken away from the overall cinematic experience. I could write a whole essay on reasons why Jar Jar Binks is the worst thing in any of the six films. “I Spack” “Ooh mooey mooey I love you!” “whatta meesa sayin'?”; four of the 100 lines that Jar Jar Spacks in the movie that makes me want to tear up every time I hear him say something. Least we forgot “How wude!” x 20. Big Boss Nass and Captain Tarpals were strong characters and the gungans clearly are a mighty race. What really bothers me about Jar Jar is that Lucas seemed to forgot that “cute and loveable” characters that supply comic relief yet still have a crucial role in the plot have no place in the star wars universe. Ewoks USED to be the most hated things outside the old republic until this Binks character came along. I can assure you, the fact that I wish Jar Jar’s face got burnt of in a power coupling is in no way for ethnocentric reasons. (My distaste for the ewok race may in fact be, but that’s a whole different story).

A final problem with the movie as well as Adam’s critique is in the podrace scene. I realize that this is a crucial scene in terms of the plot, but its easily 15 minutes too long. I have also watched the Ben Hur clip and do think that the similarities between the two is a clever and I also recognize that the chariot race in Ben Hur is long. However, Ben Hur was an extra 100 minutes long in total, thus it had time to pull something like that off as the viewer clearly was sitting down for an epically long movie. I love star wars and everything that it stands for but the length of this podrace and its lack of connection with the rest of the series makes me almost struggle to keep interest.

Adam accurately defended this movie for all the right reasons despite my two above objections. There are other things that I agree with that I do not need to touch because of the excellent arguments deployed (ie. The dialoged of the movie—“Sand storms are very…. Very…. Dangerous” is not exactly A material but its stays true to the classics). If you did hate the first episode, I also encourage you to fire up your vcr, sit back, mute the Jar Jar scenes and give it at least one more shot. Don’t look for reasons why it’s not as good as the original three. If you must compare, look for similarities between the two and, I promise you, it will not disappoint. I look forward to the next two analyses and the coming discussion revolving around my future claim that Episode 3 is the most star warsy out of the three. We shall cross that Great Pit of Carkoon when we get there.

"Defending Episode I" By Adam Slight

As the Star Wars franchise continues to grow well into its 31st year I seem to sense more and more cynicism towards my beloved saga. While the original trilogy unquestionably introduced dramatic technical innovations to cinema, it’s the new prequels that get the brunt of public criticism for its apparent cash-cow qualities. With a new TV series on the way and a CGI remake of the Emmy-award winning series Star Wars: Clone Wars to hit theaters this summer it is difficult for many to take the Star Wars Universe seriously anymore (if it’s really meant to be all that serious to begin with).

At the forefront of the Star Wars cynic’s arsenal (aside from the mind-numbing 1978 Star Wars Holiday Special) is undoubtedly Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace. While I’ve always proclaimed my unconditional love for the six installments I must admit that even I have kind of shoved Episode I aside. After watching it recently though, I would like to attempt the impossible. It is my hope this evening to defend Star Wars: Episode I.

While George Lucas’ ability to direct has always been questioned (remember, he only directed A New Hope before he did the prequels, and Indiana Jones was co-directed with Spielberg) I would like to express my support for his direction of Episode I. As I watched the film I couldn’t help but distinguish that beautiful 70’s cinematography that made Lucas and his pals (Coppola, Spielberg, Scorcese etc.) so big. I even feel that Spielberg has dropped a lot of these qualities. This punctuated style I find is strong in Phantom Menace, especially in the scenes on Tatooine (and the classic scene transitions). At points I even felt like I was watching a kind of interstellar The Godfather. The podrace, which I also often hear complaints about, is almost a perfect shot-for-shot tribute to the famous chariot race in Ben Hur. So while Lucas is often labeled as a money-grubbing hack, I’d say the cinematography in Episode I harkens more to an auteurist style of the past than that of a special-effects vehicle such as 300 or the later Matrix installments.

Another credit I give Lucas is his ability to flesh out refreshing anthropological worlds and cultures. While I do believe that he gets a lot of help from development teams as far as design goes, I do know that Lucas’ input is heavy and he always has the final say. The cultures in Episode I are the strongest of any in the six films, in my opinion. The five most prominent in the film are the Nubians (Queen Amidala and her crew), The Gungans (Jar Jar and his folk), the “scum and villainy” of Tatooine, the delegates and Jedi of Coruscant, and the Trade Federation baddies. I found that while these were all fantastic and alien, they were all rooted in a mixture of real human cultures. Through this Lucas is able to mesh “the other” and “the familiar” creating other-worldly groups that we are still able to identify with. While the Nubian culture I find resemble a mix between the ancient Greek and that of Venice, the Gungans seem to be a mix of aboriginal Australian and Jamaican. The crime lords of Tatooine are a sort of American-Italian lot and those of Coruscant are a kind of privileged, Evian-drinking, Upper-class. While seemingly semi-stereotypical, the importance is not the resemblance to specific existing cultures but that they are distinct. It is this diversity that helped me to reconcile my differences with Jar Jar Binks. If you’ll notice, the Gungans all have their silly tendancies, not just Jar Jar (The Gungan captain says “It’s ouch time” before the final battle, and their Boss has that wacky loose face-skin). To condemn Jar Jar for his silliness would be to put one’s self at risk of ethnocentricity. I’m not saying you’re a racist if you hate Jar Jar Binks. I’m just saying that one must understand the difference of his culture to understand him. It is also this philosophy that allows me to actually enjoy the Coruscant politics.

I would also like to make the claim that Star Wars: Episode I is the most “Star Warsy” of the prequels. The film was made at a time before the true CGI explosion of the 21st Century. Much of the film is still set, prop and model based. The explosions and destruction were still fundamentally born from reality as were the vehicles and sets. Yoda and a lot of the aliens are still muppets. And while some of the CGI is primitive, this flaw almost makes the film more aesthetically pleasing as too often do we see distracting CGI these days. Speaking of distracting CGI, the big space battles in Episode I still remain conceivable, unlike the opening of Episode III, which is just mind-boggling. Here is a battle from Return of the Jedi, compared to Episode I (not bad) and then Episode III (still cool, just not as "Star Warsy"). As the prequels progressed into Episode II and III Lucas became more dependent on CGI and CGI Artists in directing the action of the film. The end battle in Attack of the Clones follows a completely different style than any installment before it.

One may also note the dialogue of the film. Many complain that it is too clunky. Any such critic obviously has blindly fond memories of the original trilogy. For example, which Star Wars do you think this line from: “But I was going into Tashi station to pick up some power converters!”. That’s right, A New Hope. So as you can see, Episode I follows a prominent Star Wars tradition of barely-speakable dialogue. While we don’t have Harrison Fords talking about bouncing into supernovas, Episode I has a much similar Star Wars flare in its writing. The film’s dialogue (and actor-blocking) seems to take the approach of the epic films of the 50’s. And while John William’s composing has seen better days, Star Wars: Episode I is the only prequel with 100% original music (That’s right, II and III steal complete tracks from Episode I).

There are many more points that I could elaborate on: how Anakin is actually cool and not annoying (from a certain point of view), how Episode I has DARTH MAUL and how the Jedi seem to be in their most perfect Jedi state in this film alone. I just don’t want the point of this testimony to be lost in a sea of fandom. So while you people can continue to bash Episode I, I’d strongly suggest re-watching it with a new outlook and the above things in mind. It could be possible that Episode I is only enjoyable after immersing one’s self into endless pondering over what Star Wars really is, but maybe that’s not a bad thing. You may begin to feel as I do: that The Phantom Menace has aged like a fine wine…or blue milk. Whatever.

Doc Halen/Aspect Ratio

Its been awhile since I've updated but its been hard to find time. Between school and working on inConsequence (as well as newly released Smash Bros. Brawl) its been difficult to sit down and write an entry.

First of all, it hasn't really been officially announced until now, but its an interesting development. I was able to nab some of Doc Halen's time and he agreed to do a little voice over at the beginning of inConsequence. If you're not familiar with Doc, he's one of the esteemed DJ's for Ottawa's classic rock radio station Chez 106. I emailed and asked if anyone would be interested, and 3 days later I had the recording on my computer ready to go. It sounds pretty awesome too!

Also, I figured since there's nothing really new Shmah-related at the moment that I'd just promote a blog by another dude I know. Aspect Ratio is a cinema blog by a TA (Ben Wright) I had last semester. If you're interested in some kind of contemporary theory for cool stuff like Lost, Jurassic Park etc. you might want to check it out.

"Boing!" and the Many Sounds of Video Games

On March 28th I'll be making a presentation as a part of the 2008 Undergraduate Film Studies Colloquium at Carleton University. My presentation is called '"Boing" and the Many Sounds of Video Games'. Its based on an essay I wrote for a Film Soundtrack class semester. Basically I'll be talking about how video modern video games are very similar to film except that video games allow the audience to control the film. This interactivity inspires sound designers and music composers to experiment with their work in ways that give the audience partial control over the soundtrack of the game. Designers and composers also try to find ways that they can incorporate the viewer into the world of the game. In my presentation I'll be drawing on examples from Super Mario Galaxy, Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, the Medal of Honor series and new technology such as the Wiimote, Guitar Hero series, Rockband series and educational incorporative sound tools. I'll also touch on several theorists who have written on similar topics.

The presentation is March 28th, 4-7 pm in room 435 in St. Patrick's building at Carleton University.

I'm presenting with 3 other undergrads:

Chris Schultz: Presenting on fact and fiction in the movie Adaptation
Jenn Huzera: Also presenting on sound design...from the movie Rear Window by Hitchcock
Kira V.: I have yet to talk to her

There is also a Q&A session as well as wine and cheese after the presentation. And then I'll probably go out that night too so you're welcome to join me. If anything it would be worth going to see Super Mario Galaxy and Twilight Princess blasting on the big screen for a few minutes!

Promos? Maybe.

As you may or may not have seen, I just put a promo video up for our upcoming project that I've referred to in the past merely as "that sci fi movie". Its called "In Consequence" now. Anyways, I'll probably be making a bunch of promos kinda showing different aspects of the filmmaking process but I'm not sure yet. I used tags such as "hot chicks" and "hanna montana" on youtube so I'll probably get a bunch of pervs and 13 year old girls watching the video. Bad combo.

Hotel: Dead Mystery

The date was February 17th and my sister Kelly and I were bored out of our minds in a small hotel in Amherst, Nova Scotia. We produced the video Hotel: Dead Mystery (found exclusively on the Shmah Films facebook group page). The video has suspense, mystery, dames and gumshoes. I suggest checking it out.

On Monday Jamie Leclaire and I went to see Ottawa native Lee Demarbre's "The Dead Sleep Easy" (www.thedeadsleepeasy.com). Very cool and stylish movie that to me resembled Robert Rodriguez stuff but with Demarbre's own stylistic tweaks. I'm not sure when its out on DVD or anything but I suggest if you have the chance to watch it (especially if you're from the Ottawa-area) to go give it a shot.

Funeral Bouquets for Me

Hello!

Before I get to the meat of this post I'd like to comment on how relatively boring the Oscar's last night were. I mean Jon Stewart was pretty funny but he didn't really do any special segments aside from the Oscar tribute to binoculars and Oscar tribute to bad dreams...and then there was the pregnant thing...but these pale in comparison to some of the past comedy acts (this of last year's "A Comedian at the Oscars". Aside from that there just wasn't anything really interesting going on. Last year also had that cool presentation of Spielberg/Coppola/Lucas to Martin Scorcese. Either way, I made 25 cents betting on winners against Andrew. I just thought of something. Wouldn't it be sweet to have Conan O'Brien host the Oscar's? He probably did...or probably will some day. I also laughed when they undermined dozens of artists and film pioneers who passed away in the "dead" segment by over dramatizing Heath Ledger's clip at the end...who...like come on...hasn't really made anything THAT good.

I was just posting to promote a little short film by a friend of mine Evan Woods. The link is...here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxpawmJ_1p8. Its called Funeral Bouquets for Me. It has no affiliation with Shmah Films but I thought the movie was cool. He uses old archived footage with footage that he shot and made this concise and cool movie.

OVER AND OUT