Haren's Cinematic Modernism Blog

Toccata For Toy Trains

2009-06-13T07:28:00.000-07:00

The short film, Toccata for Toy Trains (1957) by Charles and Ray Eames is an interesting inclusion in this unit, as it explores the developing relationship between cinema and modernity. Particularly, as with the works of Dupont, Ruttman and Rand, I found the Eames’ concise philosophical and distinctive approach to creative film-making intriguing, as it values modernist “design” and the “object” ahead of any form of complex or extensive narrative structures. Therefore in this entry I will be focussing on the application of such principles in this short feature.

At the centre of their imaginative films, the Eames’ sought to exemplify the shape of modernist design by focusing on the complex nature of materials and objects. Rather than generating substance out of in-depth characterisation or intricate plots, the Eames’ presentation centres almost exclusively on the aesthetic and visually stimulating shape of films. This adherence to “purest cinema” is exemplified in Toccata for Toy Trains when the narrator states that “(there) is nothing self conscious about the use of materials – what is wood is wood, what is tin is tin and what is cast is beautifully cast.” In this way, the Eames’ films sought to explore the multiple dimensions of the “found object” itself in a creative and refreshing environment. Particularly with items like toys, the Eames’ thereby encouraged “rethinking” (Kirkham) about their construction and the scientific skills involved in their making. As such, contrary to the constricting ideological essence of other films, I find the Eames’ specific and methodological approach to film-making extremely appealing as it endeavours to take something basic and deconstruct its dynamic qualities.

Indeed in this short film by using “real toys, not scale models” the objects possess a sense of integrity. Thus, like in Ruttman’s composition, the Eames’ principles of modern design are aptly conveyed in the detailed representation of the trains that pass through a lively and bustling city and into the wide and expansive rural fields. Through the rich use of colour and shading, this film also captures the various expressions on the faces of individual figurines. Various visual techniques are also utilised to convey the multifaceted nature of such design and objects. Throughout the film, the titled camera angles and extreme close up shots distort the representation of scale, whilst the alternative lenses also disrupt concepts of consistency, proportion and distance. Whilst initially such techniques were disorientating, they were nevertheless effective in concentrating my focus on the detail of the objects. Thus rather than provide extended overview shots or wide angle reflections, which would highlight the limitations and boundaries of this artificial setting, the Eames’ maintained a tighter and more immediate design to illustrate the simplicity of decorative modernism.

As such, Toccata for Toy Trains is useful in symbolising the diverse nature of modern cinema. Unlike productions like The Fountainhead that occasionally constrict the viewer due to their overpowering ideological message and preoccupation with context, the Eames’ films celebrate creativity and artistic purity and thereby enable the audience to be dazzled simply by the creative representation of ordinary objects.

Therefore, like the differing approaches of Dupont, Ruttmann and Vidor the distinctive philosophical substance of Eames’ films symbolises the diverse nature of modern cinema which seems to be an ever evolving, flexible and fluid medium of entertainment.

The Fountainhead

2009-06-13T07:21:00.000-07:00

Rand’s The Fountainhead is an intriguing demonstration of how an author’s political and social persuasion can greatly shape a text’s literary content and thematic concerns. On an ideological level, I found The Fountainhead to be the most challenging text to engage with, due to its unique presentation of the human condition. Therefore in this entry I will be examining and responding to Rand’s philosophy on independence, ambition and society and the means by which such issues permeate her account and in particularly form her characterisation of Howard Roark.

The theoretical doctrine motivating Rand’s narrative is a fervent belief in the capacity and supremacy of individuality – that contrasts with the “totalitarian” qualities of collectivism which subjugates the person to the states “common good.” Thus Rand’s development of objectivism is central to The Fountainhead as it encourages the harmonious integration of man’s conscious convictions and his desires. As Branden notes, objectivism thereby “teaches man how he alone can determine the content of his cravings and emotions.” In this way Rand, who encountered first hand the experience of Soviet Communism, advocates for the independence of man, who must operate with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life.

In The Fountainhead Roark embodies such virtues in his determined pursuit for artistic integrity as he maintains his own ideas despite the more lucrative and accepted customs of architecture. As Rand outlined, she formed Roark as an illustration of “what man should be.” Indeed in King Victor’s adaptation, low to medium angles reflect Roark as a strong willed icon who continually stands by his uncompromising philosophical defence of artistic virtue in the face of growing conformity. As such, Rand conveys Roark’s personal qualities of creativity, intelligence and originality as the underlying features characterising artistic modernism.

Moreover, Roark’s gritty assertion that no “superior” or elevated forces impede or intrude in his work is also emblematic of Rand’s unwavering belief that society and government should only be “a traffic policeman in the intercourse of men with one another.” Subsequently Rand equates the “free mind” with the “free market”, as Roark continual rejects corporate advice and instructions.

Rand’s objectivism thereby promotes the concept of rational self interest, as values are determined by man’s own sensory perception of reality. Indeed when told he is selfish, Roark claims, “It’s true I live for the judgement of my own mind and for my own sake.” Rather than being motivated by external functions – like humanitarianism or profit, Rand thereby presents an alternative construct of the “self” – as an individual must remain true to their ideals.

Thus in The Fountainhead Roark’s characterisation personifies Rand’s description of the Active Man whose imagination and will power makes him the “producer and creator (of) every type of good work”. This contrasts with the depiction of the Passive Man who dreads independence and “expects to be taken care of by others.” In the narrative, Rand attributes such characteristics to “parasites” like Keating and Toohey who fear innovative thought and initiative.

Whilst I recognise that some may admire Roark’s persistent moral courage, I personally am quite critical of his stubbornness and self righteous obsession. Admittedly considering the current context of the global financial crisis, I could not help but view Roark’s mentality as emblematic of the selfish Wall Street entrepreneurs who for years endorsed the Keynesian view of supply side economics and passionately advocated for the government and regulatory forces to stay out of the market. Subsequently I disagree with Rand’s distinction between Active and Passive men, as she fails to take into account the fact that some people are rendered passive due to socioeconomic features and a lack of opportunity, for not all individuals possess architectural degrees from prestigious American institutions – and are therefore reliant on others for survival.

In this way, similar to means by which Rand’s ideology shaped the construction of this text, my own liberal political perception impacted my reading of the text. Indeed such a dichotomy effectively reveals the importance of literature and film in moulding values and stimulating social debate.

Ruttmann's Berlin: Symphony of a Great City

2009-04-10T19:02:00.000-07:00

Ruttmann’s Berlin: Symphony of a Great City exemplifies the ability of film to captivate an audience on an entirely visual platform. Conveying a kaleidoscopic view of a day in the animated metropolis, this film provides a valuable vivid account of life in Weimar Berlin. Like this unit’s other unique films, I thoroughly admired Ruttmann’s creativity as contrary to the stylised superficiality of establishment cinema, he collated a variety of genuine images that illustrated daily reality.

Thereby recognising the necessity for representational imagery to express his concepts, Ruttmann’s film utilises techniques like fragmentation and abstraction to produce a creative treatment of actuality. Thus Ruttmann experimented with Vertov’s concept of the documentary-genre as the “eye on society”, as the energy of his rhythmic collage and the clarity of mimetic photography were integrated to convey the substance of this unconventional chronicle.

Ruttmann’s composition also expanded my knowledge of the “city symphony” genre. Whilst I initially dismissed such films as artificial exercises in patriotism, it is evident that they articulate so much more. Particularly in Berlin the film delves into modernist fixations with technological progress and social diversity. This is echoed by Aufderheide who in Documentary film comments – “The term city symphony unites the brash industrial enterprise of the modern city with the classical musical form that demonstrates the capacity to co-ordinate individual expressions into the whole.”

Hence with this original methodology, at times I found it challenging to comprehend the intensity of multiple images. As Ruttmann alters from rural long shots to immediate close-ups of the urban environment, the turbulent juxtaposition of irregular perspectives was overwhelming. However such an approach was effective in conveying the structural features characterising Berlin in 1927 – a cosmopolitan and evolving socio-economic capital of Europe.

Yet despite Berlin’s substance vocal criticism has been expressed, particularly by Siegfried Kracauer who condemns the film as shallow because it values the city’s aesthetics at the expense of its “human element”. Thus Ruttmann is attacked for not fulfilling the ideological duties of film, as he fails to publish any social message or critique. In reprimanding Ruttmann for shirking his civic responsibilities a central issue emerges: Is film’s primary role that of commenting on societal patterns – ahead of focusing on the artistic component?

Firstly it is crucial to recognise that whilst Ruttmann may avoid any direct statement, he does nonetheless capture the diverse socio-political dimensions of Berlin, as demonstrated in the poignant transitions from a wealthy diner to starving children. Yet it appears that his priority was to independently convey the rich aesthetic qualities of the city. As the title suggests, Ruttmann was not after a psychological review of Berlin or a narrow portrait of class configuration. Instead he sought to present the dynamism of all the movement and shapes characterising the city and thereby utilise accurate representational imagery to create visual poetry. Rather than merely record the lifestyles of individuals, Ruttmann offers a vibrant expression of the active city as he examines the interaction of these differentiated parts which unify to compose Berlin. Thus rather than being a socio-cultural ideologist, Ruttmann was a progressive visual artist, as captured in his declaration: “I had the idea of … creating a symphonic film out of the millions of energies that comprise the life of a big city.”

By valuing aesthetic purity ahead of a philosophical agenda, Berlin encapsulates the viewer to absorb the cinematic experience. In adopting a more detached role, Ruttmann allows the audience to draw their own conclusions as context does not obscure creation. Subsequently academics like Ellis and McLane assert that Berlin has “more value as a document than those documentary films made with more explicit social biases,” as essentially it offers a broad illustration about the city of Berlin.

Thus in regards to the issue of the role of film, I appreciate compositions like Berlin which do not immediately contextualise their substance as it enables me to become consumed by the creativity of the work’s visual dimensions.

Dupont's Piccadilly

2009-04-10T18:54:00.000-07:00

Of the films examined in this course, I have found DuPont’s Piccadilly to be the most interesting presentation of cinema both because of its fascinating use of visual techniques and the way by which it provokes debate regarding the role of film in representing prevalent societal values.

I was immediately taken by the unique international slant this film possesses. Contrary to other Hollywood presentations of this era, Piccadilly brings together actresses of Chinese-American and Polish-American heritage as well as leading men of Chinese and British background. Such casting is accompanied by a predominately German crew, as exemplified by the ethnicity of the director and cinematographer Alfred Junge. In this way, the film fuses contrasting forms in DuPont’s social realism and the aesthetically conservative British film genre. Indeed it is from this platform that Piccadilly is able to directly approach sensitive issues like race-relations, as captured for instance when a white woman is expelled for dancing with a black man – hence reflecting the forbidden character of the film’s primary relationship.

Piccadilly also exposed me to the acting talents of Anna May Wong. From the outset she overshadows the scenes not only through her remarkably flamboyant sexuality but also through her delicate acting style. She seems to display the unconstrained ambition of the traditional femme fatale, whilst revealing a sort of child like vulnerability. This is captured as she elegantly dances in the scullery. Here elements of misenscene and central framing emphasise Shosho’s natural beauty, as her sly facial expression is accompanied by her free-flowing and uninhibited dancing. Such genuine complexity is juxtaposed with the transparency of Mabel, who appears heavily reliant on extravagant costuming and rigid dance movements. Thus it appears that despite the repetition and limitations of the roles given to this Asian actress (conniving villain or helpless victim) Wong expanded her characters. Therefore in Piccadilly whilst the audience recognises her insatiable cunning desire for fame, through Wong’s performance they nevertheless sympathise and relate to Shosho’s basic fear of spending the rest of her life in obscurity.

An examination of Wong’s role in Piccadilly and her broader acting career also reveals the value of cinema in gauging contemporary societal perceptions. Whilst the inherent racism in the film industry has been often documented, (with an MGM executive once describing Wong as “too Chinese to play a Chinese”) Wong vocally criticised the establishment for undermining the ability of Asian actors by constantly calling for stylised Oriental displays. In an interview she even questioned “Why is the screen Chinese always the villain? We are not like that.” Wong’s frustration triggers discussion of key issues: To what extent was the portrayal of Asian characters as one dimensional and racially inferior emblematic of Western perceptions of the East? Is such a film like Piccadilly an accurate depiction of existing social relations?

In my view, whilst I recognise the validity of cinema as a means to represent the world and its functions, I think that it is important to remember that in film often social, class and gender relations are exaggerated for artistic and entertainment purposes. Thus whilst characters like Shosho and Jimmy may have been presented as emotionally unstable and erratic, perhaps such features were the means by which this fictional film sought to produce its dramatic basis. Nevertheless I can appreciate views by Wong’s biographers, Hodges and Chan, who observed that often the fate of her character, particularly in Piccadilly, may have been pre-determined by the impossibility of a happy ending for an interracial couple in Western cinema at that time. Indeed it is crucial to recognise that never was she shown kissing her white co-stars on screen. This issue provides an interesting scope for debate, particularly with modern cinema. For instance to what extent do films like The Kingdom (2007) accurately represent Arab-American relations or perceptions of the Middle East?

Thus I think that Piccadilly is a crucial piece of cinematic history as it evokes ideas about the diverse functions of film as both a creative art form and a social podium.

Attempting my first blog

2009-03-16T04:12:00.000-07:00

Hey guys,

My name is Haren and this is my first entry. I'm actually pretty stoked to have come this far as I absolutely struggled for the last week or so to set up this blog. Anyways, my initial perceptions of this course have been promising and I look forward to engaging in some critical cinematic analysis in the coming weeks. As seems appropriate, I have listed below the five most recent films I've seen at the cinemas. I apologise in advance for my poor choices, though in my defence, there is often very little on at Broadway at midday on a Wednesday as my friends and I evade the torture of a law lecture in Carslaw for the welcoming atmosphere of Hoyts cinemas.

1. The Spirit (One of the worst films I've ever seen!)
2. Underworld - Rise of the Lycans (No, honestly this was much worse)
3. Gran Torino (Really good film - though Eastwood's racist taunts were out of control!)
4. Slumdog Millionaire (Impressive film, but I turned up really late for it and it took a while to figure out what was happening)
5. Curious Case of Benjamin Button (Great movie- was robbed at the Oscar's)