Sorry for the delay in the post guys, but here we go!

According to Wikipedia’s article on the famed Pandora’s Box, “Pandora had been given a large jar and instruction by Zeus to keep it closed, but she had also been given the gift of curiosity, and ultimately opened it. When she did so, all of the evils, ills, diseases, and burdensome labor that mankind had not known previously, escaped from the jar, but it is said, that at the very bottom of her jar, there lay hope.” Now, such myths, in collaboration with the biblical tale of Eve tempting Adam to partake of the forbidden apple, have characterized women as the downfall of mankind. This concept, in my opinion, has had a significant impact on the media and all forms of art ranging from painting, sculpture, drawing and, in our study, film. What I speak of is the prominence of the femme fatale character in the films we have studied thus far. Whether it is Elsa Bannister from the Lady of Shanghai (1948), Gilda from Gilda (1946), or Laura from Laura (1941), women are shown to stir the emotions of and expose the vulnerabilities in the male leads. Furthermore, our reading of Laura Mulvey demonstrated that women are also display pieces that satisfy our scopophilic urges whether we view them from the perspective of an audience member or look through the eyes of the cast. Film’s paternalistic roots have made it such that women are primarily objectified and, in the instances in which they demonstrate power, they do so out of self-interest and treachery. We have bought so far into the idea that, a “strong woman” is viewed as a woman who behaves like a man.

In the Lady of Shanghai, through her beauty and feminine charm, as well as her ability to portray herself as a damsel in distress, Elsa uses Michael and George as tools to further her own agenda, eventually leading to Michael’s imprisonment. In Gilda, Gilda provokes Johnny to no ends, compromising his position and causing him to act irrationally. You see the rage that arises on his face each time she enters the room and, despite his attempts to be apathetic, he acts out of spite. Though the film has a happy ending, Gilda has an overall negative effect on the male protagonist. In Laura, a calculating and overly logical human being, Walso, is transformed into a possessive and jealous man for love of the fair Laura. Though it can be argued that his own ego is his downfall, even Laura herself seems to feel that she is, at least partially, the source of his demise. In all these films, women have a severely negative impact on the behavior of the male lead, despite their intentions. Their power is apparent only as far as they can exert influence on the male characters, as they are shown to have no direct control of their own. Viewing the films in this light, as is commonly done in film noir, however, would be a mistake. There is greater complexity to the roles, as is discussed by Julie Grossman’s piece, Film Noir’s “Femme Fatales,” Hard-Boiled Women: Moving Beyond Gender Fantasies. She explains how our characterizations of woman limit the ways in which we view them in society and shows us the necessity of reassessing the concept of gender. Women are to be seen as they are as human beings, beyond the constructed ideal that has been imposed upon them.

It was very interesting when, in class, we found it extremely difficult to name strong female characters that did not demonstrate traits we found to be classically male. I believe this is rooted in a tradition of male defined social roles. We must realize that social dynamics are products of the people of their time. There is no male or female trait until we ascribe value to an abstract feature, whether it is sensitivity or apathy, or passiveness or forcefulness. These are just features of human beings that have been accepted as defining one sex or another for so long that we have become accustomed to them. Despite the revolution in thinking brought about by the feminist movement and the civil rights movement, our mainstream film has lagged behind the times. If only the hope found at the bottom of Pandora’s Box could lead to film representing the true HUMAN condition.

I would love to hear all of your thoughts on this issue.

In Martin Scorcese’s 2006 crime film The Departed we are introduced to William Costigan, played by Leonardo DiCaprio, who is an undercover cop working for Frank Costello the Irish Mob boss from Boston, played by Jack Nicholson. Then we also have Colin Sullivan, played by Matt Damon, who acts as Costello’s inside man in the police department. Throughout the film each of these characters elicit fear, anxiety and paranoia. The character that most strongly feels these emotions is DiCaprio’s William Costigan. Costigan is introduced to the dark, demented world that is the Irish mob. Every day he fears for his life, thinking any minute it could be his last. His anxiety and paranoia strengthens so much so he begins going to therapy and taking prescription drugs. He feels that either Costello is going to find him out or that his own police force is going to give up on him and allow him to rot in the depth of the criminal underworld.

As for Sullivan, Damon’s character, his only concern for most of the movie is keeping Costello happy. Costello is a sociopath and at any minute can flip. If Costello demands something Sullivan needs to get it done, no questions asked. There are several times where we see Sullivan struggling to not only keep up his charade with the police, but also keeping up with Costello’s orders. It all leads up to the climax of the film at the construction site where Sullivan finally kills Costello because of Costello’s past as informant…in other words Costello has been known to use his informants, his “rats,” on the inside as scapegoats if he is ever caught by the police.

Costello, as I stated before is a complete sociopath who trusts no one. His only confidant was Frenchie, ironically enough, once Frenchie died Costello soon followed. Costello is a force to be reckoned with, yet by the end of the film we see that he brings on his own demise through his paranoia…he doesn’t allow for anyone to get close enough to him. I can understand that it is hard to trust people, especially in a business like his, however the extent to which his paranoia led him brought on isolation and solitude. He ran the mob with fear, terrorizing his own men to keep them loyal.

The Departed, a remake of the 2002 Chinese film Infernal Affairs, does an amazing job uniting the three themes of fear, anxiety, and paranoia. I actually watched Infernal Affairs a few  year ago (my best friend’s dad loves Chinese and Japanese films, all types) before The Departed and it was really good…it’s no wonder why The Departed has had so much success. It’s on Netflix for DVD rental and I think if you have the time you should really take a look at it. It is a little different from Scorcese’s film but great nonetheless. Scorcese ties in these intricate, complex characters and weaves them together to form this masterpiece.

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P.S. There is a chase scene in The Departed through a Chinatown in Boston that is very reminiscent of the scene at the end of The Lady from Shanghai by Orson Welles.

I realize I’m breaking the general theme of the recent blog posts in revisiting Eraserhead, but I was so completely fascinated by this movie I feel it will be much more interesting for both myself and any of you reading for me to discuss something about which I am really excited. Eraserhead is an excellent example of how film can instill fear, paranoia, and anxiety within viewers. Granted I found myself confused for the majority of the movie, I also found myself thinking about what the movie could have meant and why certain details were used long after it was over. When I realized that the movie that stuck with me the most was also one of the most disturbing movies I have seen to date, I was a little surprised, and found myself wondering why it is that movies that are grotesque and very unconventional are so likely to catch my attention. I’m sure that part of my reaction is due to my general fascination with “weird” things, but also I think movies with elements that have the power to make the audience cringe also have the ability to stick in their minds. It is an interesting experience to face unnatural and “disgusting” images like a deformed, prematurely born baby, a cooked chicken that starts moving its legs while sputtering blood from the gap between them, and a bed full of, well whatever those things were. Personally I found myself cringing, scrunching up my face with a disgusted look, but unable to turn off the film because some part of me was interested to see what other strange things I would encounter.

I considered my reaction further while reading Plantinga’s article “The Rhetoric of Emotion: Disgust and Beyond.” Mainly, this article discusses the complexity of disgust as a reaction to film. Eraserhead has components of all three “types” of disgust (core, animal-reminder, and sociomoral). The presence of these elements, at least in my experience, made watching the movie very uncomfortable. In addition to the presence of disgusting elements, the main character, Henry, filled my viewing experience with anxiety. The extremely paranoid look on his face, his nervous gestures, and his slow, quiet speech made me feel both anxious and fearful about what kind of world he must live in if he behaves in such a way.

Despite my ability to recognize the presence of all of these details, I still am not completely able to pinpoint why this film impacted me so strongly. I think perhaps my reaction could be related to the idea of film as an escape from reality. I would never want to see any of the things Henry saw in his world, and I would certainly never want to know or be like any of the characters in the film, but because there is safety in knowing on some level that it is only a movie, I was able to explore more deeply the realm of the grotesque. There is a certain freedom gained from this and there is something sort of thrilling about the “I don’t want to look, but I can’t look away” experience. Also, this movie gave me an escape from asking, “what does this mean?” While I did wonder about what meaning could have been attached to this film, I found that it was necessary to at least try to abandon my usual need to understand and explain to really appreciate the film as a creative work.

I don’t know what all of you thought while watching the movie, I’m sure everyone had different reactions, but I think my general conclusion is that we find ourselves fascinated by grotesque and disturbing things because we know that this fascination breaks convention. I think one feels a thrilling sense of rebellion that comes from viewing images that many would suggest shouldn’t be seen at all. This, of course, is only my opinion, and I would love to hear more insight on the matter.

Walter O’Neil of “The Strange Love of Martha Ivers” is one of the weakest male characters I have ever encountered. His anxiety is like a dark cloud hovering over the film. I  feel anxious just watching Walter. In fact, Walter acts as a doormat for his father, Martha his wife, and his childhood friend Sam.

 When we first meet Walter he is under his father’s rule. He looks like a scared little boy in the presence of the great heiress Mrs. Ivers. He says whatever his father tells him to say and even takes the credit for finding Mrs. Ivers’ niece Martha after she runs away. In this situation Walter is unable to defy his father because his father is the authority figure. After Martha murders her aunt, Walter agrees to her made-up story because Martha forces him to do so and he sentences an innocent man to death for the murder years later. Sam also treats Walter as a pushover and doesn’t take him seriously.

 Walter’s guilt over Mrs. Ivers’ death consumes him and makes him a weak man. The only thing that Walter has control over is the amount of liquor he drinks. Whenever we see Walter, he has a drink in his hand. He drinks to rid himself of the anxiety. He doesn’t want to think about how he sentenced an innocent man to  death for a crime he did not commit. The only way Walter can carry a conversation is if he has a drink. When Martha tries to talk to him he says, “If there’s to be a discussion, I need a drink.” In Walter’s drunken state, he even falls down the stairs. Walter has to drink so that he can face the world.

 An essential part of Walter’s anxiety had to do with his marriage. He is married to a woman who neither loves nor respects him. He knows that Martha only married him to keep her secret. Even when Walter kisses her, she stands stiff like a statue and does not show any affection. Not once in the film, did I get the feeling that these two actually loved each other. Martha is anxious because she believes that Walter will betray her secret and Walter is anxious because he believes that Martha will leave him. There is no trust at all in this marriage. Martha wants him to let go of her, but he won’t and as a result their marriage cannot survive. Martha and Walter just cannot be together because their relationship is toxic.

 Liquor helps Walter deal with his anxiety, but it doesn’t put an end to it. The only way Walter is fully able to escape his anxiety is by killing Martha and himself. Strangely enough, it is through death that Walter asserts his control over his wife and himself.

Over this past winter intersession, I watched Men of Respect, written and directed by William Reilly in 1990. I should mention that this film is an adaptation of Shakespeare’s MacBeth. Here is a link to the trailer but I could not find a clip that I could put on the blog. Men of Respect Trailer

It is a drama about a man named Mike Battaglia who starts out as low-ranking hit-man and eventually rises in the ranks of the Irish/Italian mafia. I felt that this movie hit the three main topics of this class very accurately. I will discuss them below.

FEAR. The movie’s opening scene is set at a diner where a group of mafia men are sitting around a table in a booth talking to each other in serious tones. The lighting is dark and the diner is filled with clanging sounds of utensils scraping the dishes. Then the movie cuts to the parking lot outside the diner and shows Mike handling a deadly looking shotgun. He storms up the small set of stairs to the diner and, with no expression on his face, points the shotgun at the man in the center and shoots him in the head point blank. Mike goes on to target every other man who was sitting at the table as all hell breaks loose. There’s blood everywhere, splattering all over the walls and the white linen napkins. After the gunshots stop, the camera pans to the casualties all over the diner and Mike is the last one standing. He has a crazed look in his eyes and blood patterns across his white t-shirt. I felt that this scene played on humans’ most primal fear: death. I personally (as I’m sure many other people are) am afraid of death and refuse to think about it even though it is the inevitable. In this movie, the thought of death strikes a feeling of fear in the audience. 

PARANOIA. Now throughout the movie, Mike’s wife, Ruthie takes a “masculine” role in the relationship, pushing him and urging him to do whatever is necessary to become the mafia  king. She uses sex to convince him when he is doubting whether or not to kill Charlie (the don at the time). She says “You do everything. They do nothing.” Ruthie tells Mike that together, they can rise to the top and everyone can look up to them and report to them. However, after Mike kills Charlie, he goes insane with paranoia. He is constantly looking over his shoulder. He hallucinates and sees a good (but dead) friend that he had put a hit on and causes an embarrassing (to say the least) scene at a party where he shouts at the ghost. 

ANXIETY. Because there is this constant threat of someone retaliating against Mike for all the people he has killed to get to the top in such a short amount of time, the tensions in him and Ruthie build. The voices of all the dead people eat away at his sanity. The climax of the movie comes when the other mafia “associates” plot to take down Mike, whom they feel has completely destroyed their sense of order and hierarchy. The associates raid Mike’s building in a flurry of gunshots. Ruthie slits her wrists and dies slumped over the bathtub. Upon discovering her, Mike goes even more insane (if possible). However in the end, Mike dies at the hand of one of the associates. 

So ladies and gentlemen, I hope you have understood (and hopefully enjoyed my application of) the elements of fear, paranoia, and anxiety in the film, Men of Respect.  I bid you all good night.

First of all, I’d like to say that I really enjoyed this movie. I am not a big fan of black and white films and I think that is because I grew up watching color films and never had the motivation to watch black and white films. In this film especially, I noticed that the dark colors added to the sense of fear and paranoia in certain scenes. One scene where the use of lighting adds to the sense of fear for the viewer is the scene where the criminals are looking for the killer in the attic. The killer shuts off the lights so as to not be seen and the viewer has no idea what to expect, instilling a sense of fear within the viewer.

One of my favorite scenes in the movie was the scene in the office building. Being a very big fan of heist movies, this scene looked like it would be a perfect scene in a heist movie such as “Heat.” It had many elements of a heist movie including several criminals, a very devious motive, and it gave the viewers a sense of paranoia. I found it very ironic that I, as the viewer, found myself biting my nails throughout this scene while many of the crooks, who went into the building to capture the killer, did not seem to portray any sense of fear of the situation they were in; after all, they were chasing a killer. They seemed to walk into the building without any worries of being caught by the police. Once inside the building, the crooks freely walked around the building looking for a murderer. In the midst of all the fear and paranoia within that city, the criminals seemed to be focused on their mission to get rid of the killer in an effort to resume their “business.”

-Minhaj

I really enjoyed watching “Double Indemnity.” It captures the theme of film noir, which is darkness and shows the “bad” in people. Film noir means, “black film” and typically there is some kind of corruption, deception and crime. In this story there is definitely a lot of that happening. Mrs. Dietrichson doesn’t love her husband and wants to murder him but only after making sure he has an insurance policy. She uses her beauty and seduces Mr. Neff, since he works at an insurance agency, to get him to help her with the insurance. At first he doesn’t want to get involve, but eventually gives up. I found this kind of funny. He has just met her and is “mad about her.” He even comes up with the plan of the murder, betraying his morals (since at the beginning he opposes the idea) and even the people he works with, especially Keyes whom you could see appreciates Neff. It’s sad, but it’s a reality I guess of that time and even now, that people will go after their self-interest and don’t think about how it will affect others. I am not saying everyone is like this, but it just reinforces what film noir is all about.

One could feel the anxiety and fear that goes on in this film and even paranoia, in the process of planning the murder and after. Neff is very cautious and it’s on the constant lookout for any error. Though he doesn’t get caught, one can feel the intensity of all the events, especially after Keyes is convince it wasn’t an accident and figures out how everything happened. Neff is afraid that the truth will be revealed. He is also afraid of what might happen to Lola, Mr. Dietrichson’s daughter. He cares for her since he gets to know her well. He wants her to be happy. One could say he becomes paranoid, just by the fact that he decides to confess. After killing Mrs. Dietrichson, he could have just gone away. There wasn’t any evidence against him. He also narrates the story in a strong tone and even though he is somewhat composed, there is still a feeling that he has lost it. Overall I liked the movie, but I expected to see more elements of film noir that Schrader talks about, “in film noir, the central character is likely to be standing in the shadow” (219). Yes, there was darkness in some scenes, especially when Neff was hiding in the bushes, but I feel like it could have been more stricken. I say this thinking about “Gilda” and especially a scene in which Mr. Mundson’s profile is shown in complete darkness and covers half of the screen. That really struck me because that’s what I pictured film noir to be like. I think it has a great effect.

The term classic, by definition, implies its longevity and its everlasting mark on culture and society. I agree with this statement, and I thoroughly enjoy a good Austen novel or Hitchcock film. But after watching the handful of assigned, classic movies thus far, I can’t help but strongly feel the generation gap. For example, I really liked D.O.A. , and even as a contemporary viewer with a generation Y-er lack of patience, the movie kept my attention. But there were certain parts where I found myself laughing at the dramatic shots, or the way Paula, Frank’s girlfriend, says “I’m gonna get a permanent to make myself all pretty for you.” Or, my favorite line of the movie, “If I wear a man, I’d  punch your dirty face in,” spoken by Marla Rakubian, the infamous “femme fatale.” (It’s funny how she can be one of the movies villains but can’t punch a man). Yes, after reading Schrader on Film Noir I have a deeper understanding of the style-genre-time period (whatever it may be) and the themes- crime, psychosis, murder, backstabbing, etc. of Film Noir transcend time, but I must admit there is an aspect of movies made over 50 years ago that is unreachable to the modern audience.

I was doing some research on Film Noir online, as I was curious to see what films today can be classified as such, and I came upon a critic that was bold enough as to characterize one of my favorite movies, Memento, as a current Film Noir. For those that don’t know, Memento, directed by Christopher Nolan, is a modern masterpiece about a man with a memory disorder that is on a quest to find his wife’s killer. The genius of the movie lies not in its plot but in its composition- the scenes work backwards, playing on the audiences’ memories. A second or third viewing of the film is not even sufficient to fully grasp its hints and clues splattered throughout. I would give a spoiler to the film but its too good of a movie to ruin : ) So here’s the trailer for those not familiar.

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Even from the trailer, you can see there are aspects of the film that are synonymous with Schrader’s definitions of Noir- the dark scene in the beginning, feelings of psychosis (not knowing where he is, his memory loss), even the running around, trying to find the killer, is very similar to the action in D.O.A.  I think classifying Memento as a modern-day Film Noir is a pretty accurate description, and perhaps one that today’s audiences can relate to more easily.

*I really do love old movies! I was just observing that there are really differences in movies made for a contemporary audience. Just putting that out there.

This movie was truly littered with these themes. The concept alone is a model of them. What’s more frightening and anxiety inducing than suddenly finding out death is near? But, through various techniques, D.O.A. actually amplifies and ratchets up those feelings. From the outset, we’re presented with a flash forward. Of course, you could also look at everything coming after that scene as being a flashback instead. Regardless, I love the device and find it to be enormously effective. It gives every scene this ominous, foreboding feel. Those otherwise mundane scenes preceding his drink being poisoned are allowed to take on more meaning. So it not only sets the tone but puts a bit of a jolt into everything. And as Schrader mentions in the reading, this is one of the elements noir films are known for. The how and why take precedence over the what. Most of the intrigue lies in the journey of Frank ending up at point B, walking into the police station seemingly drained of life reporting his own murder, from point A, preparing to go on vacation and relatively happy.

When he finds out about the poisoning, at first he’s obviously very distraught but it doesn’t take long for him to come to terms and refocus. Discovering who did it and why is really all he has left and because there’s a limited time to do so, he becomes a man on a mission and the movie reflects that well. Just the pacing of everything from this point gives off paranoia and anxiety. We’re taken nonstop from place to place and person to person in an effort to realize the connection between them all and get the truth. It actually reminded me quite a bit of the first half or so of a “Law and Order” episode.

And then there’s Frank’s demeanor. He’s about as paranoid as a sane person can get and who can blame him? Everyone’s a suspect to him and he doesn’t attempt to hide that. When trying to get information from Mr. Halliday, Frank snaps at him after he apologizes that he had to make the trip for no reason. He wants to know how Halliday knows he made a trip. And when he speaks to the secretary, she says something that makes him think she’s being informed about conversations between him and Eugene’s brother. He even questions how Eugene’s wife knows something about what he’s doing.

Getting back to fear and anxiety, the scenes with the gangsters evoked that pretty well also. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was ordered to be killed but the fact that Chester, the lead henchman, was insane. He had a pretty convincing psychotic look in his eye in that car with Frank. And then there’s the scene where their car is tailing the bus he boarded.

Finally, as he concludes his journey, it becomes clear that he really does love Paula and will miss her. “Paula” was his last word. So, increasingly, there’s a fear of losing love as well. This probably could’ve been brought out better than it was but I do think the element is there nonetheless.

First to post….quite daunting….as is the task of figuring out HOW to post when you’ve never blogged before….here it goes nonetheless….

Before this class, I’ve never heard of film noir, nor have I seen any.  So I decided to read the notes about film noir prior to watching DOA.  I was surprised to find that not many of the recurring techniques outlined in the reading were used in DOA.

First off, for a film noir, the movie set was pretty light.  Most of the movie took place during the day as he was doing his detective work.  There was no rain nor any wet streets.  And the movie followed a simple chronological order.

In line with the reading, the movie employed compositional tension rather than violence.  As the main character was (interestingly) solving his own murder, the  tension was definitely felt.    But is that enough to make it a film noir?

As a ps though, what I did find in the movie was a lot of irony.  The man solving his own murder case, standing by “Life” magazine right after the doctors pronounced him dying,…