Indie film news, reviews, commentary, interviews, podcasts and more, updated throughout the week.
The Mundane Fantastic
By Matt Zoller Seitz
on 09/15/2009
"Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" shaky cam, Paramount/DreamWorks, 2009
In this summer's most spectacular features -- from CGI-driven live-action movies to 3-D animated fare -- the real star has been the camera. It's as lively, confident and versatile as any lead actor, taking any opportunity to get into character for a particular shot or sequence, doing whatever it needs to do to sell a moment. Much of the epic run time of "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" is shot with a wobbly handheld camera, following its heroes through a series of burning, crumbling, exploding landscapes as giant robots scramble along in the background or duke it out like boxers; the action is framed and shot to suggest that we're seeing a documentary event -- a catastrophic or miraculous occurrence that just happened to be captured for posterity. Ditto "G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra." When the cybernetically enhanced soldiers soar through the air, the camera shakes, and the backgrounds (and sometimes the combatants) blur out. In certain shots, the camera seems to be struggling to keep the participants in frame.
One can chalk this tendency up to the "Bourne"-era craze for jittery handheld camerawork, or merely to clever, purposeful filmmaking -- to directors, cinematographers, editors and special effects technicians going the extra kilometer to add believability. But with cinema in the final stages of its digital evolution -- the production process evolving from one that used to be entirely analog, with component pieces (film, tape) that one could literally hold in one's hand, to a digital process wherein almost every stage is created electronically, and the bits don't physically exist in quite the same way -- it's worth asking where this craving for "believability" comes from and how it's being expressed via the camera. I think it has to do with the subliminal knowledge (on the part of filmmakers more so than the viewers) that reality is imperfect, and that to make a moment seem real, one must present it somewhat imprecisely, to counteract the meticulous, slightly inhuman slickness of CGI.
The alien apartheid parable "District 9" has more than a touch of this approach, not just in its opening section (a "documentary" recap of the story thus far, complete with shaky helicopter shots of the alien ghetto), but in the action-packed third act. An assault on a corporate lab, the doomed flight of a prawn drop ship and a protracted showdown between human mercenaries and a robot-armor-suited adversary are less reminiscent of "Alien Nation" (the movie's unacknowledged predecessor) than the D-Day sequence in "Saving Private Ryan." The camera whipsaws between combatants, often arriving a split-second after a shanty crumbles or a head explodes. Even quiet, iconic moments are dirtied-up: when the persecuted hero stands on a ridge overlooking Johannesburg, desperately trying to make a cell phone call while the alien mothership looms in the sky behind him, the shot is handheld, the composition good enough for government work. Grubby equals real. [Click the images to see them larger.]
Another striking example of this aesthetic can be seen in an early shot from the big-screen reboot of "Star Trek": an image of a gigantic Romulan ship passing over the camera, an homage to the famous, much-imitated opening shot of "Star Wars." The camera is vibrating a bit, as if reacting to the sheer, mind-boggling immensity of the behemoth moving so close to it, and there's a flare on the lens, further selling the idea that we're seeing a photographic record of something that really happened. There are gratuitous lens flares throughout "Star Trek," of course, but their presence in the outer space sequences seems more than an instance of visual consistency. The interior sequences, after all, involve actual performers, sets and lights positioned to shine right into the camera (and there was, in fact, a camera). The space scenes are purely digital creations. There are no miniature ships, and no light.
Then there's the crowning touch in that shot of the Romulan ship: the flare reveals a patch of dirt in one corner of the lens. Because the entire image was created in a computer, the shot takes the word "gritty" to a surreal new level. The ensuing Romulan/Federation space battle is similarly down-and-dirty, taking its cues from SyFy's "Battlestar Galactica," the first TV space opera shot like a documentary. That series' handheld images of human interaction are complemented by space battles that might as well be shot by panicked Colonial Signal Corps cameramen who refocus, pan and zoom from moment to moment, expending so much energy just keeping the damned ships in frame that they can't afford to worry about whether the compositions are pretty.
Compare the current crop of special effects-driven spectacles to ones made in earlier eras, and the grubbing-up of entertainment becomes more apparent. Analog-era special effects were more visually sedate; they knew they were special and didn't feel as much of a need to seem "real." From the matte paintings of "Citizen Kane," Cecil B. DeMille's "The Ten Commandments" and the original "Star Wars" trilogy to Ray Harryhausen's stop-motion creatures and monster-suited Toho performers romping through scale models of Tokyo, the images took their cues from painting and theater, prizing composition and texture over restless energy, occasionally adding a bit of movement for the sake of a visual punch but more often just sitting still and letting us have a good, long look at the splendors unfolding onscreen.
MORE >- 1
- 2
- 3
- next>
Matt, this consideration of what the real difference is between digitally created effects and the old-school Harryhausen/Rick Baker/miniatures and models approach has been on my mind a lot lately. Why is it that Rob Bottin's werewolf transformation in THE HOWLING, or Baker's in AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON, seem to be if not as fresh as they were in 1981, then still believable, whereas almost every frame of something like VAN HELSING or G.I. JOE makes you roll your eyes in disbelief (the rejection of the "realistic" images you're seeing)? It's exactly what you suggest-- the tactility of the image or the effect, and that the camera, while not necessarily stationary, wasn't trying to give you whiplash while the effect was happening. You say that "Accidentally or on purpose, the new fantasy films... (make) the fantastic mundane," and this couldn't be more spot on. Each and every new development, each one more rigorous than the last, to sell the believability of things we know to be outrageous and impossible in physical space, work now to throw me as far out of the movie as possible. Conversely, any sequence from a Harryhausen movie has a much more likely chance to engage me on a human level in the story, even as I consider the effort and talent it took to produce the sequence. The attempt by animation (2-D drawn and 3-D computer-generated) to replicate photographic "tells" seems to me a different game-- the filmmakers aren't expecting to sell us on the reality of what's being presented so much as that it was somehow captured by mechanical means familiar to us. That we've been presented these images in UP and MONSTERS VS. ALIENS that superficially resemble celluloid photography adds, for me, to the idea of being transported by a fantastical story into a world that clearly is not our own, where anything can happen and has, ever since Steamboat Willi took his first cruise.
This is a very perceptive essay, and one of my favorites of the year. Thanks so much for articulating it so well, as you always do.
The fine folks over at 'The House Next Door' have highlighted this article - here's what I commented over there:
I think a big part of the problem re: special effects being 'special' is what has happened in parallel with the rise of CGI - the collapse of film grammar and filmic storytelling.
So T2 is effective because the effects are used sparingly - CGI being so expensive at that time - and as such need to be placed at important points in the narrative for maximum effect. The problem with effects in pics like Transformers is that they are continuous and therefore have no effect; with CGI less really is more.
In District 9 though I would argue that there are not supposed to be any effects - the presentation of the aliens is not supposed to wow you - it is supposed to seem mundane - so in this case the CGI works superbly - much better than in any other recent film, (that the viewer is aware of having CGI in it - of course most films now have tons of digital work for colour correction, facial smoothing, (as in the Julia Roberts closeups in Duplicity, etc.), that the viewer is not supposed to notice).
joel
"The ensuing Romulan/Federation space battle is similarly down-and-dirty, taking its cues from SyFy's "Battlestar Galactica," the first TV space opera shot like a documentary."
I have immense respect for your work, Matt, but here you're pretty wrong. Battlestar Gallactica borrowed much of its space battle visuals from Joss Whedon's Firefly, and for good reason, because the technical wizards behind Firefly brought their experience from that short-lived series to Battlestar and took it to the next level. And if you want to get completely chronological, even Whedon admits that ILM beat Firefly to human eyes with documentary-style visual effects in Star Wars Ep II: Attack of the Clones. Lucas can't take credit for the closing Clone War battle scenes though: those were conceived and rendered by a bunch of animators. Lucas had nothing much to do with it.
Anyway, great article minus the glaring ommission. Thanks!
First of all, Jett Loe highlighted this article, via his twitter (and his website/podcast his amazing!). Secondly, Joel beat me to the Firefly thing (although, I hadn't thought of the SW:AotC thing) predating BSG for the shaky cam. Thirdly, @Dennis Cozzalio, the main examples you brought up of VAN HELSING and GI JOE: THE RISE OF COBRA having lackluster CGI. I wanted to point out that the filmmaker behind both of these movies (along with the newer THE MUMMY movies and even DEEP RISING) Stephen Sommers, I think intentionally makes his computer imagery look "off" or bad, even. I think that he's such a fan of Harryhausen, and enjoys the aesthetic of his effects looking fake; in the vein of how there's really no way that you could confuse those Skeleton warriors of the Titans (in The Clash of movie) as being real. That's my opinion, but I kind of have to believe there's a reason - besides just not being skilled - that his movies continue to have that look.
Now, as to the real meat and potatoes. I have to admit, that when I go into a movie theater - or even pop a DVD into my player and watch on my TV - I hand myself over to the screen. I accept that what I'm seeing is meant to be another world, possibly much like mine, but in the same way that aforementioned CHILDREN OF MEN, or even Tarantino's (sorry, to bring it up) INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS, they aren't the same world I live in. Therefore, I have to admit that when I see movies like STAR TREK, TRANSFORMERS, JURASSIC PARK or many other movies that spend hundreds and hundreds of millions of dollars to make their CGI look pristine, I buy it. And for the most part all of those movies hold up to scrutiny and in the case of JP, to time. That's not to say there aren't the same kinds of movies that spend the same amount of money and their effects aren't up to par (X-MEN ORIGINS: WOLVERINE). But, for the most part, I don't have much of an issue accepting seeing well done CGI on-screen as being fantastic and exciting. (I actually loved - and consider it my favorite part - TERMINATOR: SALVATION, for it's all CGI Arnold stand-in. He looked fantastic, and I have to admit to wishing they'd just use that process to make new Arnold movies, with the real guy dubbing in the voice. **Can you see it?!**
As for animation, I think that what's being commented on, is how the animators/production companies are just trying to create and utilize relatable film language, where - as was mentioned - "there is no there there." One movie within the past couple of years that got pointed out as trying to break the format of using cuts and whatever, and use the limitless potential of (CGI) animation was KUNG FU PANDA, which used camera work and long shots that was odd to see, because of what we're used to. (It may even be the descendent of the now dated "bullet time") Then there's the opposite direction, with PIXAR, where in WALL-E, they actually brought in famed/celebrated Cinematographer, Roger Deakins, to help make the movie look MORE cinematic and set in the real world - mostly on earth, seemingly.
Lastly, I don't know if it's just a luddite-like perceptions that give people these (not un-founded, or wrong) opinions of CGI, or shaky-cam, or quick-cutting; but these are now all parts of the film language, just the same as tracking shots, the focus zoom, and fade out. Right or wrong, who's to say that if Hitchcock had the opportunity to use CGI he wouldn't have? Is something better because it's a matte painting or a miniature, as opposed to created digitally on the computer? It takes the same amount of artistry, and probably even longer to do, only there's no physical materials used (well, beside the point, that usually maquettes are still created, to help the animators gauge their renders). As for unbelievability, who is to know what a 50 foot tall, talking robot; or a 10 foot tall green superhero; or even a Romulan ship appearing from a wormhole would look like? I honestly can't say that I'd expect them to look much different than presented in the recent films we've seen them in.
Ok, and finally, finally, there was a comment made about TRANSFORMERS 2 when it came out, that went something like, "if someone from the 1950's somehow time-traveled to today and saw Transformers 2, they wouldn't say, 'wow, those are great special effects,' they'd say, 'wow, you guys have 50 foot tall talking robots'."
(Sorry for the rant.)
Great essay, Matt. It seems this is an issue that has been on everyone's mind a lot lately, and you articulated your thoughts on it really, really well.
(Small note: I do have to agree with Joel, who pointed out that "Firefly" was the first Sci-Fi TV show to use documentary-style camera work for digital shots of outer-space. I remember watching FF and being quite taken with the style, the floating, re-focusing camera, the silent vacuum of space, and when I saw the techniques used on BSG, thinking that Firefly had been a clear influence.)
This post actually got me thinking about music-making, and how the two mediums are engaged in similar struggles with the merging of analog and digital technologies. I wrote up some thoughts as sort of a response to this essay, if anyone's interested:
http://murfinsandburglars.com/2009/09/21/the-fantastic-mundane/
Thanks for the comments, everybody.
Re: "Firefly," you're right, I did forget about that one, and it did get to the party earlier than "BSG."
