Sunday, May 18, 2008

"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.

1 comment:

Benjamin Wright said...

The problem is with most mainstream film criticism, which values story over style. Syndicated film critics are, by and large, trained not in film but in English literature. While I greatly admire A.O. Scott of the New York Times, his reviews tend to lean towards story strength over aesthetic convention/invention. Rick Groen of the Globe and Mail similarly values "theme," "character," and other literary aspects over technical and artistic textures.

Speed Racer has confounded most critics because its story is the least interesting thing about the film. 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.

Only after the dust has settled and we move beyond the hyperbolic assessments of Speed Racer will we be able to see for sure what Speed Racer did that was so innovative or so reductive.

Plus, it's easier to write about story. And it's easier to criticize a film for not developing a character, a scene, or a plot device. How easy is it to criticize a camera angle? a lighting choice? a musical invention?

The flip side to this coin of criticism is the academic critic. You're 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 as crass commercial product or insipid, uninspired Hollywood drivel.

Take your pick.

Now, I'm exaggerating the playing field. There are some amazingly talented and sharp critics out there, like Ebert, Bordwell, Buckland, Edelstein, and the aforementioned Scott.