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The Magical Mechanics of Film | Hugo

Martin Scorsese’s 2011 film Hugo is a fantastical homage to the glory days of early cinema. Filled with swirling imagery, camera movements, and amazing formalist performances by the cast, the film is a spectacular vision with a great point. Due to its large budget, the film flopped, but not in the art department, if you know what I mean.

The first time I watched Hugo was when I was twelve, right when it came out. I remember seeing it in 3D, which already overwhelmed me, and crying 10 times. Every time Hugo cried so would I, probably because I would empathize with his childhood wants and needs. Like me, he loved movies, and I wanted this kid to have a happily ever after no what the cost. I love how the movie talks about the mixture of machinery and beauty. A lot of time, we don’t think about how movies are actually just the use of intricate machinery recording something in the real world, pieced together to make something beautiful. There’s an emphasis on this complicated machinery within the film, and an emphasis on the relation between man and machine, as almost “characterized” with the automaton.  Throughout the film, each character’s heart needs to be unlocked, George’s, Hugo’s, and even the inspector’s. It’s Isabelle who unlocks Hugo’s heart, and Hugo who unlocks George’s. It’s spectacular.

Besides the luxury of intricate machinery, the world of Hugo is fantastical and dream-like. Much like when I was talking about La La Land, the story has a fairy-tale feel yet is still grounded in reality. Even though smothered in heavy formalism, we never see the genre escape the confines of Magical Realism.

I like the idea of this genre too. “Magical Realism”. Doesn’t that just sound like an oxymoron? How can anything be magical but also real? What I like about this paradox is that Scorsese uses the very genre of the film to communicate the essence of films themselves. Many times films are described as magical, however aren’t they based in reality? At their most simple form, movies really are just recordings of what’s happening in the real world. Except, the term “movie magic” didn’t just show up out of nowhere. Thus, movies themselves are literally magical snippets of reality.

I could talk about Hugo all day. It’s Parisian setting, and the hundreds of symbols and motifs within the film (the train, the automaton, the mechanical mouse, magicians, the man in the moon, and even colors). But, that would take too long. What I recommend instead is to go and watch the movie right now. There isn’t anything like watching a beautiful movie that makes a point of appreciating the beauty of movies.

It really is a gem for film nerds.

-Elsa

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Cameron’s Very Needed Day Off | Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

Many of you have probably seen the 1986 hit-comedy that is Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. It’s one of my favorite movies, not just because of the dancing, the over-zealous principal, and the jealous sister, but for other reasons as well. You’re probably thinking right now, Oh, well, if Elsa’s talking about this then it probably has some sort of cinematic significance. And you’re right again, fake audience! Not just because it’s a classic who’s popularity has lived on to this very day, but because of it’s, well, cinematic-ness (don’t worry I’m cringing at this intro too).

At the beginning of this year, my English teacher was asking us to think of some characters from movies and TV shows that were interesting or a sort of “contradiction”. I don’t remember how the actual conversation came up, but at some point we had stopped analyzing our favorite and most interesting characters and had begun a detailed discussion about films in general. Ferris Bueller’s little gem had come up, and my teacher said, “I have this like, weird theory about Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. It’s like, in the movie, Ferris is the embodiment of what Cameron desires to be. Seriously, re-watch the film and tell me I’m wrong”. Needless to say, our small minds were blown by this ingenious statement. (Just to let you know, after telling my older sister about this theory some months later, she laughed and said her (different) English teacher had said the exact same thing like four years ago).

Whoever came up with it initially, I still think the theory is not only rad but also supported.  Who (or should I say what) is Ferris Bueller? He’s charismatic, confident, lovable. His parents love him, and so does his girlfriend. He get’s away with it all. What about Cameron? He’s stodgy, insecure, anxious. His parents are tough and could straight up “kill him”. He does not have a girlfriend. What are we describing here, friends? Oh, that’s right. Foils, yo.

So, we’ve established that Cameron and Ferris are foils. So what? How does this show us anything? Well, it really just opens up the possibility that Ferris could be a projection. Before we go into that, we have to take a good look at the man himself, the true protagonist of the film: Cameron.

We can see his identity crisis at one very specific scene in the film. If you’re reading this, you probably know which one I’m talking about. At the Chicago Art Institute, he’s staring quite intently at a painting. It zooms into Cameron’s eyes, and as the camera switches, it also zooms into the painting, until the canvas with the art becomes nothing more than splotches of color, as does Cameron himself. The inter-cutting in this scene demonstrates Cameron’s lack of identity. He’s staring into space until it becomes nothing. The close-up in his eyes also show that this is, in fact, about him, and his “nothingness”.

Cameron, an anxious, insecure dude who hasn’t figured it out yet. Pretty teenager-y and Holden Caulfield-esk, amirite? Yes. So why is Ferris different? A-ha. You know. Cause he’s a projection of what Cameron wants to become. Do you see it now?

So, OK. We get what you’re saying Elsa, but what does this mean in the film? Or like, in life? Oh, I’m glad you asked, fake audience. Luckily, Cameron doesn’t remain the same throughout the entire film. Like most main-stream protagonists, or anti-heros, if you prefer, he changes. He develops. Woopie. Besides Ferris, a primarily stagnant character, who actual progresses? Cameron. He’s the one who ends up symbolically “crashing” his past self by pushing the car out of the (lemme just say gorgeous) glass garage. His parents will murder him. But does he really care anymore? Nope.

I hope you enjoyed this mini-spiel. If you still don’t believe me go back and re-watch the movie and see for yourself that I’m right.

Also sorry for all of the rhetorical questions in this one.

-Elsa

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The Reality of a Dream | La La Land

If you’re anything like my friends, you’ll probably roll your eyes when I tell you that today I’m going to be writing about the truly amazing, miraculous, and infinitesimally beautiful film that is Damien Chazelle’s recent classic La La Land. Pssh, you’re probably thinking, you just liked it cause of Ryan Gosling. Ha. He looks like my brother. No. But honestly, La La Land is truly a grand film that lives up to its ad campaign, it really will “speak to anyone who dreams”.

I honestly don’t know where to start with this film. I was recently interviewed by a newspaper, asking why I loved the film so much. Due to the utter joy and excitement that the film pushed through my veins at the time, I breathlessly stumbled over my words as I squealed out a response. I wish they would ask me now, after I’ve had time to reflect and analyze my own feelings on the film.

The whole idea of being in “la la land” is so interesting considering the dual meaning of the film’s title. Not only is it LA’s nickname, but it denotes the feeling of the city itself. The city is chock-full of people trying to make it big, live in a dream, and it’s almost as if they are living in a world of luxury and grand illusion. Chazelle highlights this in the film too- the bright colors, the dancing, and swirling, long takes all heighten this feeling of fantasy. But isn’t it great?

The nostalgia in the film is also brilliant. My friend actually thought the film took place in the 1960s (it doesn’t just in case you were wondering). Chazelle’s homage to the classics is evident throughout the entire film: through the 50’s style costumes, the lamppost swinging, the retro cars, Ingrid Bergman’s face on the wall, and more scattered in chewable pieces throughout the film’s glory. It’s a love letter to the past, and a song of praise to the era of musicals and glamour.

The role of music is so profound within the film. Even though I know that Gosling and Stone aren’t professional singers, their untrained voices add to the rawness and reality of the emotions they’re portraying. Jazz too, it all speaks to a world of emotion and belief that Mia and Sebastian want to be a part of some day. I find it interesting that a movie so content on focusing on illusion or “la la land” can grasp such real, grounded emotions in their characters.

Both Mia and Sebastian have dreams. One in film, one in jazz. At the beginning, Sebastian is prideful and focused, whereas Mia is distracted and naive. It’s no wonder that Emma Stone won Best Actress, the character development of Mia she portrayed was so subtle yet so profound. She goes from being a woman with the girlish dream of becoming an actress, to maturing and writing her own role and securing her own future. This is seen through the costume design as well. At the beginning of the film, Mia wears brightly colored dresses, in blue, green, yellow, and pink, but as she matures so do her costumes. She still wears colors, yet more muted, with collared shirts and sweaters and multiple 40’s inspired dresses.

But it isn’t just Mia who helps herself find her dream. Sebastian plays a huge role in helping Mia achieve her dreams too. In fact, even when they both get distracted, they each help each other realize their mission and ultimately achieve their own goals. Even though they split, their relationship ultimately helps them each mature and reach their individual goals, finding what they want in the end: fame and a jazz club. And that’s why the ending is so good, it isn’t just another romantic comedy that chicks go to, no, it isn’t about romance. Their relationship wasn’t the goal. That wasn’t the point. It was to achieve their dreams, and their relationship was merely the catalyst for those dreams, each one challenging and encouraging the other to actually get what they wanted in life.

For being a film so set on fantasy and dreaming, the irony comes out in its reality. The movie’s story is realistic, but merely told in a fantastical manner. The true, 1950’s Hollywood ending would’ve been what we see in the dream-sequence at the end, but that’s just it: a dream. Instead, the reality of the situation is that they achieved their personal dreams, but didn’t end up together. They were in fact, pieces of the journey to get to the grounded place in their goals that they are now. That’s the irony of it, that a movie so based on dreams could ultimately be about reality (ha, sound like another movie we know?)

Really, go see it like, right now. I highly recommend the sing-a-long version myself.

-Elsa

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Locked Away in Dreams | Inception

I’ve recently seen Inception for probably the seventh time. You’d think that by at least the third time I’d be less intrigued by its maze of a story, but, unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) you’d be wrong. Each time I rewatch it, I discover something new, something intriguing, or just get wrapped up in the emotions and characters as I normally do.

So let’s talk about Inception. There’s something I inherently love about Christopher Nolan’s films. I love how on the outside, they seem like they are going to be one thing, about one concept, but really, after you watch it, you end up leaving with a greater story, usually about the human psyche, that stays with you for much longer than the original concept ever would have on its own. For example, Interstellar may seem like a film about defeating the concept of time, but in reality, its about love and what humans will go through if they care about someone. In The Prestige, it may seem like it’s about magic and allusion, and it is, but stripped down it’s really about the destructive power of human ambition. Neat, right? Inception is exactly the same way.

Looking at it from the outside, Inception seems like a movie about dreams (no way, really?). Anyone could’ve told you that. Probably someone who’s never seen it before. But, what really makes it stick in your mind, I mean, besides the friggin awesome spinning hallway scene, is the underlying message underneath all the pazazz. We get to the deeper meaning: guilt, and overcoming your past.

Christopher Nolan does an excellent job hiding this within the nuance of his film making, so, just like the psychological problem at hand, it slips into the viewer’s mind subconsciously, as if it were an idea being planted in the deepest of dreams. Mostly he incorporates the use of motifs, fragments of images and sounds that reappear over and over again, too subtle for any passive viewer to realize. The image of his children, always leaned over, playing in the sand, appears multiple times, as does Mal’s remark,”Remember when you asked me to marry you? You said we would grow old together.” Not only do these “de ja vu”-like motifs blur the line between dream and reality, but their repetitive nature also reflect the feeling of guilt, always there in the back of your mind.

Ah, but Mal herself is whole other story. She is a more poignant representation of Cobb’s guilt. His subconscious’ representation of his past wife, back from the dead, reappears just to mess everything up, like real guilt. Mal uses her grip on Cobb to exercise her control, and through that, Nolan comments on the controlling nature of regret. In a sense, he seems to assert, Guilt is its own character, and its personality controls everything in its path.

I also find it funny how good ol’ Chris plays with this idea of regret. The entire score is just drawn out sections of the song No Regrets by  Edith Piaf, and I kinda think the title says it all. The song they wake up to is literally telling them to “have no regrets”, so when Cobb wakes up from his dreams, the place where Mal reigns, he is essentially waking up from his guilt, and taking on the message of the song itself.

In a way, the entire film could be considered a journey film. We travel with Cobb and his team not into someone else’s psyche, but perhaps Cobb’s own troubled subconscious. In a way, we follow Ariadne as she, like her namesake (google it), helps Cobb leave the maze of his regret for good. The deeper we go in there, the farther we get to his underlying, mega-sense of regret, until he finally faces his demons. But, 2 hrs and 28 minutes later, we wake up to the song, 2 minutes and 28 seconds long, in the credits of the film, telling us to leave our own regret and live in reality, just like Cobb eventually does.

This film really gets to me. I love how Nolan portrays the message of moving on from your past, hidden behind the illusion of a dream. And to be honest, there is so much more to say about this film. I could honestly write a book about it. However, it must end sometime. So, tell me, are you dreaming?