By that, of course, I mean the John Carpenter film. Seattle-based Parallax View has begun performing, under the editorship of Sean Axmaker, an invaluable service to film scholarship: publishing the entire back catalog of Movietone News on the web. That great publication, edited through the 1970s and into the 1980s by Richard T. Jameson before he topped the masthead of Film Comment for the duration of the 1990s, was proclaimed "The best publication on film in the English language" by Molly Haskell.
All of which brings us back to the Days of the Dead in which we are currently living (and dying), and Jameson's review of the anamorphically photographed 1978 Carpenter movie that redefined the holiday, and horror filmmaking, for the next generation. RTJ plunges straight into the heart of the matter in his opening paragraphs (originally published in the February 1979 issue of MTN:
A thing that bugs me about the vast majority of contemporary films is, they rarely give the feeling anyone cared much about framing them. The movement away from studio (i.e., factory) filmmaking has had a lot to do with this. Advancements in film speed, equipment mobility, and other such factors that ought to have been unqualifiedly liberating have had the counterproductive effect of encouraging slovenliness rather than responsible flexibility. A movie can get made anywhere now, one place is as good (i.e., workable) as another--and somehow that extends to frame-space as a "place" too. Throw in careless labwork (we waved byebye to real Technicolor several years ago) and you've got smeary colors and big, fuzzy grain to help reduce definition, and definitiveness of vision. It's hard to maintain faith that a given movie had to look the way it does, because it could just as well have looked, well, a little different.
People won't be talking about this as they leave their naborhood moviehouse,¹ but one reason John Carpenter's "Halloween" is so successful a marrow-freezer is that Carpenter appears to have set out to reinstate scrupulous, meaningful framing all by himself. In fact, except for its shamelessly (and irresistibly) zingy music score (by the director), "Halloween" achieves its considerable power almost entirely through visual means. There's not a lot of scenario--make that screenplay--to deal with; indeed, the least satisfying thing about "Halloween" is its attempt to arrive at some scriptoral accounting for its ultraweird dispenser of mayhem, an "Omen"-era, cosmic-evil reading--"He" really can't be stopped--that rings too familiar. At the same time, the nonending ending "Halloween" reaches has a validity missing from more flagrantly copout conclusions where the filmmakers more or less simultaneously ran out of running time and ideas of what to do next. For Carpenter's direction has undercut the idea of a world with any secure breathing-room, let alone a sanctum for salvation.
(Read the rest here.) Those who wonder about my concern with the seemingly perverse notion that framing matters (and cutting, and blocking...) look no further than RTJ's incisive observation about films 30 years ago: "It's hard to maintain faith that a given movie had to look the way it does, because it could just as well have looked, well, a little different." In other words, most movies -- even way back then -- conveyed a certain indifference in the way they were composed and assembled. The general situation, I'm saddened to report, has not improved.
¹ The Pittsburghian RTN explains: "The error was deliberate, the legacy of a format I'd see every weekend of my youth in the arts-and-entertainment section of the Sunday edition of the Pittsburgh Press; listings for all the non-downtown and non-art showplaces were gathered under the heading NABORHOOD THEATERS (appearing on a marquee that suggested a drive-in screen, or vice versa). I didn't expect many MTN readers to have grown up with the same association, yet I liked the popcult/populist air of it, and trusted that the "misspelling" was so egregious that it would be recognized as some kind of fond joke, even if the reader wasn't quite sure what the joke was."
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Wow, that one line you picked out has guaranteed I'll be spending an inordinate amount of time reading all available back issues of Movietone. I'd never even heard of it 'til now.
On the subject, though, I just wrote a post yesterday, actually, arguing that Superman Returns is one of the best blockbusters of the decade in large part because it seems to be one of the few in which the frame (and cutting, and camera movement, and so on) matters at all, let alone to the extent that it does to Bryan Singer. To see film form so regularly disposed of in summer blockbusters, the one type of film with a seemingly endless supply of money these days, is depressing.
But maybe it is, as Jameson said, because of the similarly limitless options that money affords you. But, if nothing else, it cuts the wheat from the chaff in a way the studio system couldn't have - those with real vision will use technological advancement to more accurately convey that, and those with nothing won't give a damn, and it'll show.
Still have yet to see Halloween. I'm just beginning to get into horror movies, and this definitely confirms that I really have to see it (I'd also say Carpenter's form is on damn good display in The Thing).
Again, thanks for the heads-up on Movietone.
For me, Halloween would have been far scarier if there was perhaps a little more characterisation.
I'm sure at the time it would have played me like a piano, but I can't think of a film that I feel has lost it's original affect as much as this due to the influence it's had on a genre.
It's the reason for me why Psycho still remains terrifying, and Halloween merely a good exercise in direction.
I don't think being well-shot is enough to elevate an otherwise disasterously awful film like Superman Returns to the status of "best of the decade". The film was poorly acted, poorly paced, had a story that bordered on incomprehensible, was self-serious and pretentious and failed in almost every way that a blockbuster superhero movie ought to succeed, except that, as you say, it was nicely framed.
I also hadn't heard of Movietone, but I will have to check it out. Thanks Jim!
I thought the freakiest moment of Halloween...when the victim ran to a neighbor's house for help and they shut their porch light off...came from the story and not the framing, but who's to say it wasn't actually the framing that made it effective?
This essay details why I continue to watch everything M. Night Shyamalan does, even though his scripts have produced diminishing returns (to say the least). Very few mainstream directors, particularly in the horror/thriller genres, care about how each shot is composed as much as he does.
And along these lines I finally got to see "Still Walking" last night. My God, every shot in that film was perfect and could not have serviced the story any better. It should be required viewing for everyone who makes or is interested in movies these days.
Jim, thanks for shining a spotlight on Richard Jameson. His tenure at Film Comment was arguably that periodical's best decade, and he has always been a personal hero of mine.
JE: Mine, too! RTJ and Kathleen Murphy were college film professors of mine, and for many years now I have considered them family.
...Except that Superman Returns was visually one of the ugliest films in recent memory AND featured a terrible screenplay and sloppy, thoughtless editing. The action sequences were poorly filmed, as if intentionally shot and edited in a way to make them incomprehensible. The film constantly shows us things that have no bearing on the situation and continually employs "stylistic" touches that are unnecessary and confusing. Take, for example, the "bullet-in-eye" sequence. What the hell is that? Who cares? Why is it even in "super" slow motion? Wouldn't it be much more interesting and exciting in real time? (Assuming that it's necessary or meaningful in some way to show once again that Superman cannot be harmed by bullets.)
Notice that immediately afterwords, the scene abruptly ends. So what happened? Did Superman care one way or the other that someone tried to shoot him in the face? Did he take the guy to the police? Fly away? Melt him with heat vision? Throw him into outer space? We don't know because the film assumes, incorrectly, that the viewer will "fill in the blanks" and infer Superman's course of action.
The entire movie is like that--full of incorrect assumptions about what the viewer needs to know and what the viewer should and should not see at a particular time. For me, there isn't a single moment in the film that "works." Every single scene is filmed in a perfunctory, unnecessarily stylish way that fails to convey the most basic information to the viewer.
Sorry; I realize Jim's post had nothing to do with Superman Returns, but that film infuriates me.
Maybe it's just me, but I get a little confused by these framing discussions. It seems to be just subjective that a scene is not framed correctly, but the way the reviewer talks, it sounds as if there is a definitive right way to frame and a wrong way to frame and that current movies do it wrong. I suppose I could notice a movie when something is framed really badly (cutting off part of the action, people cut out of the shot, off center, ect...), but all other choices would seem to be just that,... choices. Is this something you have to have a masters in Movie appreciation to recognize or is there a good book someone could recommend so that I could get a better grasp on the framing issue. I would like to learn more about this as I seem to be missing it in movies I've watched over the last 30 years.
Rob,
Watch Kubrick. Lots and lots of Kubrick. John Ford, too. (There are many other examples and I'm sure someone else will throw out a few.) You could also study photography and classical painting.
Of course there's no ultimate "right" way to shoot something, but there ARE more and less effective ways. The director makes a choice and some are better at it than others. It's called having an eye. Pedestrian visuals lead to pedestrian films. Some shots are cliche - you immediately register that you've seen them a million times. Sometimes they just fall flat -- you know that what you just saw should have been more thrilling than it was because the director put the camera in the wrong place.
At worst, you say "What the hell just happened? Somebody stabbed somebody, I think. Yeah, that guy's dead now, I guess the other guy won." See Quantum of Solace.
Too much showoffy cuteness can also get in the way. Watch someone like Renny Harlin sweating and struggling to have "style" and you'll see what I mean. Spinning sky cam! Extreme closeup! Dutch angle! Are we excited? It's called desperation and it's the exact opposite of the elegance of a Hitchcock or Carpenter. (And yet, I accept it when a Dario Argento or DePalma does it -- because he has an eye and remains in control. Maybe you have to have Italian blood.)
The current style seems to be: shoot if from every conceivable angle, shake the camera and edit at random every half-second. I suspect these films are going to look very dated when this goes out of fashion. Look at the use of fast-motion, zooms and freeze-frames in the Sixties. Generally, the trendier the film, the more dated it becomes.
Cory,
Not to go out of my way to defend SR, but how else would you show a bullet making impact? You can't see bullets at normal speed.
JE: Kubrick's movies (and his aesthetic heirs, the Coens) are often ABOUT the framing, how you see and don't see through the frame. "Barry Lyndon" is the prime example (framing with zoom lens), but so is "The Shining" (framing with steadicam).
JE's comment brings to mind an anecdote about an early screening of Rosemary's Baby. (Stop me if you've heard it.) Ruth Gordon is in Rosemary's bedroom, framed in a doorway as she relays some crucial, sinister information over the phone. She's sitting on the bed and we can only see her legs from the other room.
As the story goes, the entire audience leaned over in their seats in an attempt to see Gordon's face beyond the door frame, to try to read her intentions. They were so concerned for Rosemary that being left in the dark along with her drove them nuts -- and Polanski knew this.
I dare say "Eyes Wide Shut" is Kubrick's visual and framing masterpiece, moreso than even "2001". I've found Cruise and Kidman's lack of acting a distraction, so I tried an interesting experiment of turning down the sound and putting on classical music (Vivaldi works great for this!). Only then can I focus on the direction and framing and realize the genius and detail Kubrick instilled in this film.
Of course, I've also watched the battle scenes of "Braveheart" while listening to drum duets of Phil Collins and Chester Thompson . . .
as for "Halloween", the technique that could possibly best describe the framing and editing that very effectively creates the elements of dread and horror are Carpenter's use of "lingering" . . . staying longer in a shot than that with which we are more comfortable, presenting Michael Myers in the background or side of a frame to allow the viewer to SEE him, but not make him present in the center of the scene until violence occurs. I remember watching that movie in our family room, which had a sliding glass door and full length windows that lead to an outside patio . . . oh God the atmosphere of WAITING to see Michael Myers appear in that doorway still bothers me!
What would happen if Carpenter's film had been made today by a modern filmmaker, and they had decided to do the opening shot in the same killer-perspective manner as Carpenter did? The camera would be moving all over the place, shaky-cam style, in an effort at some sort of "realistic" portrayal of a killer's motions. Can you imagine the director of the "Bourne" movies at work on this? The audience would be having motion sickness by the time that opening scene ended. One of the effective aspects of "Halloween" is how the camera moves constantly but largely smoothly, courtesy of the brand-new Panaglide (Steadicam) technology utilized by cinematographer Dean Cundey. When rougher motion is presented, it is kept at a rational level, rather than looking like the camera operator was overcaffeinated.
The effectiveness, and brilliance, of this film are strongly dependent on how that motion is achieved. Study the scene with the Annie character in the foreground on the phone with her boyfriend and the glass door behind her. How many horror films since "Halloween" have had a sequence as interesting as that?
I watch this film on October 31st every year (now in a pretty Blu-Ray picture); still my favorite horror film, and still the only film to give me nightmares.
JE: Anybody remember what Rob Zombie did in his 2007 "Halloween" reboot? I didn't see it.
Jim,
I saw the 2007 Halloween in the theaters when it came out. Today, only 3 things stick with me: First, Michael's family has become typical abusive trailer trash in an attempt to explain something that should not be explained. Second, there's a nice 5 minute sequence where young Michael kills for the first time which is genuinely chilling and disturbing, in particular
SPOILER: If I remember right (it has been 2 years), young Michael is wearing his clown mask on top of his head (not over his face), and Zombie shoots from an overhead angle so you get a creepy view of the clown mask and the murder. /SPOILER
Third, when Myers is an adult, they turned him into Juggernaut from the X-Men comics. During the film's climax, I leaned over and told my friends, "if he bursts through one more wall, I'm leaving. This is getting ridiculous."
I think Zombie was the wrong person to direct Halloween--he wants to *show* everying. The original was more about subtlety and implications -- Michael standing in the shadows waiting. There's nothing in the '07 Halloween to match that painfully long sequence Carpenter inflicts upon us where Laurie walks across the street to check on her friends--and I say this with affection because without ever showing Michael, we're very well aware that Laurie gets closer with every step. The best explanation Carpenter gave us for Michael's motive is the mad ravings of a doctor whose sanity we question. Ultimately, we don't know anything about Michael nor should we.
That's the magic in Carpenter's Halloween. We don't really know what he is, where he is, or why he does what he does ... but we know he's nearby somewhere.
Jay,
I can honestly say that, John Carpenter's Halloween is the one of the best in the horror genre. I am actually doing a presentation in film class of John Carpenter's masterpiece. Yes, Rob Zombie was wrong for remaking Halloween.
Michael Myers, like I told my friends, should be and kept inside Moustapha Akkard's productions. Am I right? Those who want a slow, terrorizing and creepy walk, should relay on the guys who made Myers more than a man in a mask.
Therefore, I think we both know whose version is better. For those who think Rob Zombie's version is better, his Halloween focuses more on what ocurred and what happened on the scariest night in the horror movie genre.
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