Friday, November 16, 2012
AMBIVALENT - An interview with Edwin Reyna
Check out this interview with Edwin Reyna about his childhood in Scarsdale, NY.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
MISE EN SCENE: Drive (2011) dir. Nicholas Winding Refn
The "elevator scene" from Drive is probably the film's most memorable scene and is certainly the film's key moment. The scene, which occurs about three quarters of the way into the film, literally encapsulates everything the film is about in a tiny elevator with three actors and just over two and a half minutes.
Drive stars Ryan Gosling as the unnamed protagonist of the film. A stuntman by day and a getaway-driver-for-hire by night, Gosling doesn't find much purpose in his life until he meets Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her son, who live next door. A largely unspoken romance between Mulligan and Gosling ensues as he becomes attached both to her and her son. Things become a bit more complicated when Mulligan's husband (Oscar Isaac) returns home from a stay in prison. Not only do Gosling and Mulligan have to put their romance on hold, but Isaac also brings home a debt to some unsavory characters, putting the entire family in danger. Gosling decides to help Isaac pay back his debt in order to protect Mulligan, but soon the situation becomes entirely out of control, and a passive, silent character is forced to bring the demons inside himself out and to the surface in literal form in order to survive and to protect those he loves. Here is the scene (or the most I could find of it):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qz8UBPWhTdU
First consider the setting: a simple elevator. It doesn't look like much, but it is the perfect setting for this scene: This elevator is where Gosling's character first noticed Mulligan's, and many of their more tender (and silent) scenes take place here-- it is the perfect spot for them to say goodbye. The production design may not seem inspired, but it gets the job done: the wood paneling set against metal paneling, the cheap carpet and the gaudy lights suggest a typical Los Angeles elevator in an out-of-the-way apartment complex: the setting of the film. The elevator also represents a small, confined space where confrontation is not only possible, but inevitable and inescapable-- as the characters experience in this scene.
Just prior to this scene, Mulligan and Gosling have a dramatic and tense conversation. Then the elevator door opens and seems to not put that on halt, but prolong it: they are in the presence of a stranger and cannot continue their talk, but perhaps plan to as soon as they exit the elevator. But when inside the elevator, Gosling looks this third character up and down and sees an expensive, tasteless suit typical of a gangster, and a gun in the inside of his blazer (still more typical of a gangster), and knows this must be the man sent to kill him and Mulligan.
At first we hear the sounds of the elevator's descent: the echoing elevator shaft, the low moan of metal against metal-- and then Gosling realizes not only that he is going to have to protect Mulligan, but he will probably never see her again, and the sound abruptly falls out completely as we enter a long-medium shot of the characters in the elevator (focusing heavily on Gosling and Mulligan, with the gangster in the foreground), and Gosling extends an arm to gently push Mulligan away from the gangster, the camera gently moving in on her as well, the lights going up on her face while they go down on Gosling and the gangster and the music swelling to a soft, high-pitched note: we realize we are entering not only Mulligan's point of view, but also a heightened reality-- perhaps something that may not even be really happening, but metaphorically.
Gosling turns to her, and we enter a more isolated close up-- only their corner of the elevator is lit, only their corner of the elevator matters right now (isolation within isolation). We move up from her belly as he touches her there (she lets him-- signifying a deep complicity with his actions as her belly is one of the most vulnerable parts of her body as a mother) to their heads as he leans in to her light to kiss her. The light is very important in this scene: it in fact tells us that, though it may be happening to both of them, it is not Gosling's scene but Mulligan's, it is her perspective we are seeing this from and it is her realization that comes later in the scene that is most important.
We hold on this shot for a long time, longer than is really possible with a gangster in the tiny room: indeed we have been in slow-motion since Gosling extended his arm to protect Mulligan. They are relishing their good bye-- they want to make it last as long as possible because it might be their last. Or perhaps it didn't happen so slowly, or didn't happen at all-- and they only imagined it so.
As Gosling kisses her, he moves his body so that we see the scorpion logo on his back-- a key and overt symbol of the film. The scorpion represents who he must become to protect Mulligan-- evil, brutal and violent. Its appearance in this intimate shot reminds us of who he is and what he is capable of in addition to this sensitive act we see in front of us, and foreshadows what is to come in mere seconds. The way his body is positioned, the gangster in the elevator would have a full view of the scorpion as well-- and perhaps this is Gosling's way of baring his teeth.
They break off, stare into each other's eyes as slowly the music begins to fade out and the slow motion begins to return to normal, yet Gosling shifts forward on his feet, still in the midst of it all as if he doesn't want to leave.
And then suddenly, we are in a medium shot as Gosling turns his head from Mulligan to face the gangster. Everything has returned to normal-- the lights, the speed-- there is no music to be found. Mulligan is now the one in darkness, with her back to the camera, and the two men in the scene are well lit (with Gosling's face in a bit of shadow-- but you can see the ferocity in his eyes). The gangster suddenly and quickly turns and goes for his gun, knowing that the pretense of safety at the beginning of the scene has left the tiny room in wake of the intimate scene that just took place. Gosling moves to the center of the frame to intercept the gangster as Mulligan ducks. Gosling rebounds the gangster off the small confines of the elevator, making the first gritty sounds of the scene (a stark contrast to the expressionistic swell of the music seconds before). As Mulligan moves out of the way, we enter a close up-- this time of Gosling and the gangster, moving their violence to the corner where romance just took place.
Mulligan watches from behind Gosling as he shoves the man to the ground, stunned, and we know that his brutality has kept her safe-- but with her back to the closed doors of the elevator, she is still trapped in the room. Then he kicks the gangster in the face, and seeing a close up of the gangster, bloodied, from a slightly high angle, we know Gosling has won. But moving back to Mulligan, we see her watching the man on the floor, in distress, as Gosling, dark, unfocused, in the foreground, delivers another kick (or rather, a stomp) to the man's face. The heavy sound of the blow lets us know that we have entered overkill.
Then we have a medium shot from over Mulligan's shoulder, focused on the scorpion insignia on Gosling's back as he stomps again, and again, and again. Then a close up of Mulligan's profile as she watches him stomp, realizing who exactly her lover has been this entire time as his figure dances in a reflection off of the metal paneling of the elevator. The heavy stomping sounds do not relent-- indeed they are the only thing we can hear at this point-- they become grotesque as we enter a low angle shot of Gosling stomping, his face contorted with viscousness and effort as we hear something like eggs cracking mixed in with the sound of the stomping and we see-- from a high angle shot of the man's body with Gosling's boot still pounding where his head should be-- this is not protection anymore. This is revenge.
The computer generated blood softens the shock of the image, but somehow makes it more grotesque at the same time-- we are not watching the result of human action.
Finally, Gosling relents, and the door to the elevator opens-- Mulligan immediately backs out. We see a close medium shot of Gosling's back, the scorpion logo, and he turns around. He looks confused, scared, intense, dark-- who he really is. He shares a last look with Mulligan-- looking small in the center of a wide angle shot, outside the elevator, looking ethereal in the light of the elevator offset against the darkness of the parking lot around her (the ugliness of a green screen actually working for a change). The size of Gosling in the frame versus the size of Mulligan indicates that we have now entered Gosling's perspective, and that Mulligan is exiting his story. The elevator doors close on her, and Gosling's scorpion logo now dominates the frame as the scene closes and he is cut off from love and tenderness for the rest of the film.
The "elevator scene" from Drive is probably the film's most memorable scene and is certainly the film's key moment. The scene, which occurs about three quarters of the way into the film, literally encapsulates everything the film is about in a tiny elevator with three actors and just over two and a half minutes.
Drive stars Ryan Gosling as the unnamed protagonist of the film. A stuntman by day and a getaway-driver-for-hire by night, Gosling doesn't find much purpose in his life until he meets Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her son, who live next door. A largely unspoken romance between Mulligan and Gosling ensues as he becomes attached both to her and her son. Things become a bit more complicated when Mulligan's husband (Oscar Isaac) returns home from a stay in prison. Not only do Gosling and Mulligan have to put their romance on hold, but Isaac also brings home a debt to some unsavory characters, putting the entire family in danger. Gosling decides to help Isaac pay back his debt in order to protect Mulligan, but soon the situation becomes entirely out of control, and a passive, silent character is forced to bring the demons inside himself out and to the surface in literal form in order to survive and to protect those he loves. Here is the scene (or the most I could find of it):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qz8UBPWhTdU
First consider the setting: a simple elevator. It doesn't look like much, but it is the perfect setting for this scene: This elevator is where Gosling's character first noticed Mulligan's, and many of their more tender (and silent) scenes take place here-- it is the perfect spot for them to say goodbye. The production design may not seem inspired, but it gets the job done: the wood paneling set against metal paneling, the cheap carpet and the gaudy lights suggest a typical Los Angeles elevator in an out-of-the-way apartment complex: the setting of the film. The elevator also represents a small, confined space where confrontation is not only possible, but inevitable and inescapable-- as the characters experience in this scene.
Just prior to this scene, Mulligan and Gosling have a dramatic and tense conversation. Then the elevator door opens and seems to not put that on halt, but prolong it: they are in the presence of a stranger and cannot continue their talk, but perhaps plan to as soon as they exit the elevator. But when inside the elevator, Gosling looks this third character up and down and sees an expensive, tasteless suit typical of a gangster, and a gun in the inside of his blazer (still more typical of a gangster), and knows this must be the man sent to kill him and Mulligan.
At first we hear the sounds of the elevator's descent: the echoing elevator shaft, the low moan of metal against metal-- and then Gosling realizes not only that he is going to have to protect Mulligan, but he will probably never see her again, and the sound abruptly falls out completely as we enter a long-medium shot of the characters in the elevator (focusing heavily on Gosling and Mulligan, with the gangster in the foreground), and Gosling extends an arm to gently push Mulligan away from the gangster, the camera gently moving in on her as well, the lights going up on her face while they go down on Gosling and the gangster and the music swelling to a soft, high-pitched note: we realize we are entering not only Mulligan's point of view, but also a heightened reality-- perhaps something that may not even be really happening, but metaphorically.
Gosling turns to her, and we enter a more isolated close up-- only their corner of the elevator is lit, only their corner of the elevator matters right now (isolation within isolation). We move up from her belly as he touches her there (she lets him-- signifying a deep complicity with his actions as her belly is one of the most vulnerable parts of her body as a mother) to their heads as he leans in to her light to kiss her. The light is very important in this scene: it in fact tells us that, though it may be happening to both of them, it is not Gosling's scene but Mulligan's, it is her perspective we are seeing this from and it is her realization that comes later in the scene that is most important.
We hold on this shot for a long time, longer than is really possible with a gangster in the tiny room: indeed we have been in slow-motion since Gosling extended his arm to protect Mulligan. They are relishing their good bye-- they want to make it last as long as possible because it might be their last. Or perhaps it didn't happen so slowly, or didn't happen at all-- and they only imagined it so.
As Gosling kisses her, he moves his body so that we see the scorpion logo on his back-- a key and overt symbol of the film. The scorpion represents who he must become to protect Mulligan-- evil, brutal and violent. Its appearance in this intimate shot reminds us of who he is and what he is capable of in addition to this sensitive act we see in front of us, and foreshadows what is to come in mere seconds. The way his body is positioned, the gangster in the elevator would have a full view of the scorpion as well-- and perhaps this is Gosling's way of baring his teeth.
They break off, stare into each other's eyes as slowly the music begins to fade out and the slow motion begins to return to normal, yet Gosling shifts forward on his feet, still in the midst of it all as if he doesn't want to leave.
And then suddenly, we are in a medium shot as Gosling turns his head from Mulligan to face the gangster. Everything has returned to normal-- the lights, the speed-- there is no music to be found. Mulligan is now the one in darkness, with her back to the camera, and the two men in the scene are well lit (with Gosling's face in a bit of shadow-- but you can see the ferocity in his eyes). The gangster suddenly and quickly turns and goes for his gun, knowing that the pretense of safety at the beginning of the scene has left the tiny room in wake of the intimate scene that just took place. Gosling moves to the center of the frame to intercept the gangster as Mulligan ducks. Gosling rebounds the gangster off the small confines of the elevator, making the first gritty sounds of the scene (a stark contrast to the expressionistic swell of the music seconds before). As Mulligan moves out of the way, we enter a close up-- this time of Gosling and the gangster, moving their violence to the corner where romance just took place.
Mulligan watches from behind Gosling as he shoves the man to the ground, stunned, and we know that his brutality has kept her safe-- but with her back to the closed doors of the elevator, she is still trapped in the room. Then he kicks the gangster in the face, and seeing a close up of the gangster, bloodied, from a slightly high angle, we know Gosling has won. But moving back to Mulligan, we see her watching the man on the floor, in distress, as Gosling, dark, unfocused, in the foreground, delivers another kick (or rather, a stomp) to the man's face. The heavy sound of the blow lets us know that we have entered overkill.
Then we have a medium shot from over Mulligan's shoulder, focused on the scorpion insignia on Gosling's back as he stomps again, and again, and again. Then a close up of Mulligan's profile as she watches him stomp, realizing who exactly her lover has been this entire time as his figure dances in a reflection off of the metal paneling of the elevator. The heavy stomping sounds do not relent-- indeed they are the only thing we can hear at this point-- they become grotesque as we enter a low angle shot of Gosling stomping, his face contorted with viscousness and effort as we hear something like eggs cracking mixed in with the sound of the stomping and we see-- from a high angle shot of the man's body with Gosling's boot still pounding where his head should be-- this is not protection anymore. This is revenge.
The computer generated blood softens the shock of the image, but somehow makes it more grotesque at the same time-- we are not watching the result of human action.
Finally, Gosling relents, and the door to the elevator opens-- Mulligan immediately backs out. We see a close medium shot of Gosling's back, the scorpion logo, and he turns around. He looks confused, scared, intense, dark-- who he really is. He shares a last look with Mulligan-- looking small in the center of a wide angle shot, outside the elevator, looking ethereal in the light of the elevator offset against the darkness of the parking lot around her (the ugliness of a green screen actually working for a change). The size of Gosling in the frame versus the size of Mulligan indicates that we have now entered Gosling's perspective, and that Mulligan is exiting his story. The elevator doors close on her, and Gosling's scorpion logo now dominates the frame as the scene closes and he is cut off from love and tenderness for the rest of the film.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
ARTIST'S STATEMENT.
I'm dedicated to narrative fiction in several different media- film, theatre, fine art and prose.
I was born a visual artist but raised a writer, and the two meet for me in film. I believe in text that works hand in hand with visuals to supercharge an actor's performance and communicate lucidly and efficiently the emotional tone in a film. I recognize the all-importance of story, of beauty, of terror and of succinctness in art, and I recognize the all-importance of collaboration, gestation, spontaneity, overcoming challenges and truth in the creative process. I recognize that without any of these necessary ingredients, the work will be missing essential depth(s) and dimension(s).
I want to realize not only the visions in my head, but the visions in the minds of like-minded others. I want each contribution to lift up the other and to create something exceptional and undeniably true to the audiences who watch it. I want to be surprised by my own work, I want to be surprised by the work of my collaborators. I want all possible parts of my skill set and imagination to be engaged in the process.
But most important are the characters. Did I mention the characters?
Conrad
I was born a visual artist but raised a writer, and the two meet for me in film. I believe in text that works hand in hand with visuals to supercharge an actor's performance and communicate lucidly and efficiently the emotional tone in a film. I recognize the all-importance of story, of beauty, of terror and of succinctness in art, and I recognize the all-importance of collaboration, gestation, spontaneity, overcoming challenges and truth in the creative process. I recognize that without any of these necessary ingredients, the work will be missing essential depth(s) and dimension(s).
I want to realize not only the visions in my head, but the visions in the minds of like-minded others. I want each contribution to lift up the other and to create something exceptional and undeniably true to the audiences who watch it. I want to be surprised by my own work, I want to be surprised by the work of my collaborators. I want all possible parts of my skill set and imagination to be engaged in the process.
But most important are the characters. Did I mention the characters?
Conrad
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)