Monday Film Class: Movement vs Genre

For the next month or so I will focus on a specific area of film studies so that I can delve a little deeper into films instead of attempting to cover huge areas in one post. I will be looking at the Film Noir movement of the 1940s and 1950s. Some may say, "Hold up! Isn't Film Noir a genre?" To this I disagree and to understand why we must first look at the difference between a movement and a genre.

To accompany this post I pulled out some old photos that my husband took back in undergrad. In his photography class he did a Film Noir series and, yes, that is me posing in the photos many years ago. And that cigarette is just a prop.

Let's look at genre first. To simplify a genre is a way of categorizing films; yet if a film is a genre film it usually upholds certain stylistic/narrative/form rules. An easily identifiable genre is the romantic comedy or as some like to call it the romcom (isn't that cute?). To begin with I can think of many romcoms from many different decades (When Harry Met Sally, While You Were Sleeping, How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, Miss Congeniality, etc.). Plot points in all of these films are strikingly similar: a man and a woman are introduced in the beginning, we want them to be together throughout, but, alas, the film keeps them apart until the very end when they realize that they are meant to be together. And we all rejoice when they kiss and breath a collective sigh of relief and a smile as we leave the theater. If this does not happen in the film then said film is not a romantic comedy. It may be a comedy or a perhaps a romance, but it's not a romantic comedy. There are a few other elements such as a big female star in the film (Julia Roberts, Sandra Bullock, Reese Witherspoon, usually the ones who are not great actresses, but big stars) and a somewhat unbelievable or whimsical plot.

Another easily recognizable genre is the western. Westerns have to take place, well, in the West, the American West that is. There is a battle of good vs bad with the good guy winning. The thing about genre films is that all you have to do is watch the film and you know that it belongs to that genre. You don't need to know anything about the director or when it was made or why it was made. The genre film stands alone.

So what is a movement then? Well, a movement is regulated to a specific time in history and is often reacting to an historic event or to a creatively stagnant film industry. While there are common elements in a movement not all the films necessarily adhere to the standards. Often the common elements have to do with the production of the films and not the finished product.

Since I have previously written about the French New Wave let's start with it. This movement really began with an article by Francois Truffaut titled "A Certain Tendency of the French Cinema," basically condoning the French Cinema at the time and throughout history to be fairly bland, boring, uninspired (with a few exceptions). The French New Wave constituted an immense amount of young, new, French filmmakers in the late 50s, early 60s. In a way they sort of woke up the French cinema. These filmmakers abandoned the idea of perfection and grandiose filmmaking. Instead they opted for small cameras, stylistic pieces, location shoots, and personal stories. To me there is real honesty in their films, which is magnified by how they really worked from the gut and took chances, embraced mistakes.

From my previous post there are two films that are synonymous of the New Wave: Breathless and The 400 Blows. If you were to casually watch these two films you would be hard pressed to find similarities that would put them into the same genre. Other than they are both French, take place in Paris, and shot in black and white. These similarities would include many, many films including the films that the French New Wave was rebelling against.  

Breathless is very fast paced and stylistic. The characters are hip, the scene is hip. Danger becomes fun. Godard experiments with cutting and with improvisation. On the other hand, The 400 Blows is more evenly paced and examines a rebellious childhood. It's an incredibly personal film that explores the filmmakers own childhood. So here are two very different films comprising one cinematic movement. An era that moved cinema forward a step or two. To understand how the films are connected and why they are part of the same movement you need some outside information. You need to know about the directors and about what was going on in the world. You need to know about the state of French cinema, etc, etc.

There is no seminal moment that I know of that inspired the romcoms. Other than some executives in an office realizing that a large group of people will pay money to see films were two people who are meant to be together are kept apart for an entire film before finally getting together in the end. Some would say that the screwball comedies of the 30s and 40s were the beginning of the romcoms, but I think there are even early films. Sherlock Jr. for instance is a perfect romcom. So as with westerns the romcom genre may have just appeared out of nowhere and always existed.

Finally, let's look at Film Noir. There is a fairly well agreed upon time period when Film Noirs were made. It's often cited that Noir films began with The Maltese Falcon and ended with Touch of Evil. These films were made in response to two major happenings in the world and Hollywood. In the early 1940s America was dragged into WWII, a place we didn't want to be until of course we were attacked and had to defend our honor. This attack and our subsequent use of the atomic bomb scarred the American psyche and the art being made had to somehow reflect this change. Fred and Ginger needed to be balanced by something a little darker, something unknown. Therefore, noir films tend to examine the seedy underbelly of the world. The characters are far from perfect; they're drifters, murderers, detectives, criminals.

Secondly, the Hollywood production houses, most notoriously Warner Brothers, needed to save a little money. They realized that they could reuse sets if they lit the sets with a lot of shadows using low key lighting. So the style was created due to a specific need. Though, it was also greatly influenced by German Expressionism of the 1920s; in these films areas of light and shadow were often painted onto the sets. Film Noir just used shadows to create intensity on the sets and mask that the same set was being used over and over again.

While there are many characteristics of a Noir film they by no means apply to every Noir film (other than Noir films always being shot in black and white). Color was very expensive at that time and, thus, would have negated the cheap feel of Noir. They may also include some of the following elements: a voice over, a femme fatale (a woman whom brings down the male lead), the main character dying at the end, Humphrey Bogart (not really, but he does seem to show up in a lot of Noir films).

Now, some of you may have heard of the term Neo-Noir. These are films made after the initial Film Noir time period and they are often shot in color. This alone is a fairly significant departure from the original style. Yet, though these later films take a lot from the stylistic/narrative form of Film Noir they are often missing the paranoia and even the melodrama associated with the original movement. While these new films are clearly influenced by the original films they are not similar in the same way every western is clearly a western.

Movements are also continually influencing films, filmmakers, and, even, other movements. For instance Italian Neo-Realism influenced the French New Wave. German Expressionism influenced Film Noir and so on.

Of course in the coming weeks we will look more in depth at Film Noir by actually looking at some films. In the meantime I hope this helps to allow you to think about movement vs genre. If you still think that Film Noir is a genre, I would love to hear your argument. I am always open to a well supported opinion. Also, remember that not all films have to belong to a movement or a genre, plenty of films exist outside of any type of box. So don't try to stick them in one. For instance just because a film has a female lead that does not automatically make it a romcom (for the record I consider romcoms and chick flicks to be the same thing, but that is an entirely new post).

Monday Film Class: The Great Cinema Myth

The first films ever projected were a collection of shorts by the Lumiere Brothers. Edison and the Lumiere's have a long running feud over who actually made the first film. I've heard arguments for both sides and personally I don't think it really matters. I call it a tie; though I do like to give the Lumiere's a slight edge just because it seems as though Edison tended to steal many ideas and inventions.

The Lumiere Brothers camera was amazing in that it was not only the camera, but also the projector. The simplicity of early cameras is amazing to me because you realize that all of the equipment that we burden ourselves with as filmmakers sometimes can get in the way of the idea. All you really need is a box, a lense, the sun, and a strip of celluloid (well, maybe an actor too). 

Legend goes that The Train Arriving at the Station was one of the first films shown the night of the Lumiere's screening and that the audience ran out of the theater screaming. Apparently, they thought the train was coming at them and would run them over. If you watch the film below, the train is not coming right at you, but steaming off at an angle. Audiences back in 1895 would have been extremely dumb to have run out of the theater after watching this film, do you not agree?

Research has shown that the audience did not run out screaming and if they did it was  a stunt to drum up publicity. I think as students it is important to consider this legend because its endurance relies on contemporary audiences looking at audiences of the past as somehow inferior. Simply because a film is old does not make it less important, less artistic, or less worthwhile. Perhaps it makes us feel better to look back at past audiences and think we are so much more intelligent. When in fact we are just interested in different things at different times.

When watching a Lumiere film it is important to still think about all the same elements as with other films. Why did they put the camera where they put it? How does it influence our viewing of the film? Why did they choose this subject? Early films are incredibly short so you can get in a significant amount of viewing in a fairly short time. All the films are in the public domain due to their age and are fairly easy to find on youtube.

Ironically, The Train Arriving at the Station was probably not even played on that first film screening back in 1895.

Monday Film Class: Nicole Holofcener

Last Thursday my sister watched my daughter so that my husband and I could go see the new Nicole Holofcener film, Please Give. After watching the trailer we had considered seeing the film for our anniversary last month, but decided against it because it was only playing in Winston-Salem and I preferred to stay in Greensboro. This week I though I would write about Holofcener both to recommend seeing the film in theater, projected on film of course, and to introduce a filmmaker that you may not be familiar.

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Holofcener is a writer/director whom often makes films revolving around females and the issues facing them. She is does this in a very honest manner without overtly glamorizing women akin to Sex and the City type fare.

Interestingly, Catherine Keener has played a major role in all four of Holofcener’s feature length films. It makes one wonder if the characters Keener plays are surrogates for Holofcener. When a director writes characters that are similar to themselves I often refer to them as the director’s Antoinel Doinel. Doinel is the main character in a series of films by Francois Truffaut that begins with the 400 Blows, which is a semi-autobiographical film about Truffaut’s childhood. As the series progresses and Doinel ages the character becomes more of an amalgamation of the Jean-Pierre Leaud (the actor portraying Doinel) and Truffaut himself. Of course Truffaut is not the only one to have done this nor the first, but it is very successful pairing that extended over many films. Now, I don’t know for sure that Holofcener uses herself as the blueprint for Keener’s characters, but it is something I have always wondered. Though Keener’s characters are not carbon copies of each other they all have a similar make up involving a somewhat neurotic and needy nature.

Today I have had a hard time sitting down at the computer to a write this post and am now in the eleventh hour. All day I have been trying to think about why Holofcener is a relevant director. It is not often that films portray women in the central roles in a film and it is even rarer that films with lead female characters are not romantic comedies (where the women are usually portrayed as searching for or needing a man in their lives).  Holofcener is one of the rare directors making films about women without relying on stereotypes or using female characters to sell designer shoes. She does this by creating very personal films that are far from the normal high concept big budget Hollywood fare. She allows the women to have real flaws and dimension.

Upon leaving the theater I thought Please Give was good, but not as well executed as some of Holofcener’s other films, but now I am not sure, the more I think about the film the more I appreciate it. That’s the thing with her films there is never a pat, easy ending, nothing is force fed. The character’s were all incredibly well written. My husband really loves the grandmother and thought she was a particular stand out. I agree with him, but I was also impressed with Amanda Peet, she plays a bitch very well.

I show Holofcener’s Lovely and Amazing in my Women and Film class and students are often very divided on the film. Often they want a concrete conclusion and feel as though the film just ends. This semester, due to some films being misplaced during a move to a new building, I showed the film much earlier than normal. At first the film had some of the same complaints, but as the semester moved along it became the film that everyone referenced and compared subsequent films.

Monday Film Class: Last Year at Marienbad

I finally watched (or rewatched, the first viewing being in 1996) Last Year at Marienbad. Before I discuss the film itself let me give some background. The director, Alain Resnais, is associated with the French New Wave movement or La Nouvelle Vague. Of course the most prominent members of this movement are Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut. For those making a list of important films to watch you must include The 400 Blows (Truffaut) and Breathless (Godard). They are the truly defining films of this movement and The 400 Blows in particular is one of my favorite films. The French New Wave is truly independent filmmaking at its finest. Beyond that, though, the filmmakers were attempting to wake up cinema audiences. They were not concerned with allowing an audience suspend their disbelief and forget that they were watching a movie. Instead, they wanted the audience to always be aware that they are watching a constructed reality, a piece of art. 
 

        {Godard, Source}                                  {Truffaut, Source}

For instance they often use tracking shots that are way too long and make an audience uncomfortable or using a freeze frame at the end of the film so that all movement ceases and often the main character captured in a defining moment (of course now this technique is often used in a rather banal manner making it rather cliche). This was first used in The 400 Blows as a means to trap the main character and reflect on how he is caged and has nowhere left to go, thus using a cinematic technique to comment directly on a character. Godard used jump cuts (when a piece of the action is missing from a continuous shot making the image appear to jerk or jump) as a way to shorten his film, but it was also a means to constantly remind viewers that they were watching a film and had not been carried away to some other world. They are not a fly on someones wall, but instead a patron sitting in a theater.


The French New Wave is such a wonderful and influential period of filmmaking and I can only begin to touch on it here. Even though now  many of the techniques that they used in their films can be considered somewhat mainstream, the thought behind the technique has often been lost. When you go back and watch these films you can see what they were trying to accomplish more clearly. At times it can be uncomfortable to watch (not violent or sexual, but more 'what in the world is going on?'), but stick with the films and you will be rewarded. 

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Now onto Last Year at Marienbad. Resnais is considered to be in a subset of the French New Wave often referred to as the Left Bank. These filmmakers, which also includes Chris Marker (La Jetee) and Agnes Varda (Cleo From 5 to 7), were the more artsy fringe of the movement. Though the French New Wave as a whole was interested in challenging tradition in cinema the left bank really pushed the envelope. While Godard and Truffaut were film critics taking the leap into filmmaking somewhat as a way to test their theories, the Left Bank contingency was made up more of artists. Their films sometimes even veered into experimental filmmaking.

To use a contemporary comparison trying to make sense of the plot or structure of Last Year at Marienbad is like trying to make sense of the television series Lost; when it comes down to it structural clarity is not necessarily the point. And believe me Lost is a cakewalk compared to Marienbad. Resnais is particularly interested in memory and his most famous films (Night and Fog, Hiroshima Mon Amour, Marienbad) explore the manner in which we store our most heinous memories be they personal or collective. For instance Night and Fog tackles The Holocaust and if land can maintain memory. Resnais brings his camera to concentration camps a decade after they were liberated and juxtaposes the modern footage with archival footage of the camps, thus taking leaps from the present to the past and back again. I first watched this film in 8th grade and the images, the sound of the narrator, were burned into my own memory. The two images that stayed with me most vibrantly was one of bodies being bulldozed (a painful image, but necessary)  and one of the modern grown over fence cutting through a green landscape.

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Last Year at Marienbad looks at tragedy on a more personal level. The main character is trying to either rationalize his role in a rape and possible murder or his complicity in the murder of a woman with which he was/is in love. Depending on your interpretation perhaps there was not even a murder, perhaps the woman escaped with the love of her life at her side. Perhaps everyone is dead, portrayed only as a memory. Often Resnais jumps from one location to another, one moment in time to another during what appears to be one simultaneous conversation/thought. So the past and the present become blurred.


It is easy to write off Marienbad as weird and unfocused because it demands so much from its viewers. This is not an easy, popcorn film. All of the characters walk through the film in a daze, with little emotion to guide the viewer. Plot points and characters, who are never even named, are vague and barely developed. When watching the film you shouldn't try to make sense of it all, but experience it. Whatever you think is happening, is happening in some way,  allow your mind to fill in the spaces. There is not a right or wrong in this film.


This may be a hard film to watch, but it will stay with you as you ponder what it all means. You will benefit from multiple viewings, don't be scared to watch it twice. Sometimes when I watch films like this I get put into this dreamy, half asleep state that allows me to follow the film even better (and sometimes I fall asleep). If you have never watched a French New Wave film (or an experimental film) before I would advise watching some of the more accessible ones first before Last Year at Marienbad. 

If you give the film a chance you can really begin to think about memory and how we alter it to fit our perceptions of ourselves, our lives. Often if our memories were exact interpretations of what really happened perhaps we would not be able to exist in the world. Our actions would be to hard for us to bear. 

Monday Film Class: It's Complicated

Alright so this is more like a year in review post and won't necessarily include films you have to add to your must watch list, though I would recommend it. Last year was a really good year for women filmmakers not even including the obvious. Almost all of the top women film directors released a film: Kathryn Bigelow (Hurt Locker), Jane Campion (Bright Star), Nora Ephron (Julie and Julia), Mira Nair (Amelia), and Nancy Meyers (It's Complicated). Even though there are more and more women directors cropping up these five have been around for awhile and are trailblazers. It's almost overwhelming that they all had films come out last year.

Kathryn Bigelow {Source}

Jane Campion {source}

This weekend I finally watched It's Complicated, and now the only one I haven't seen is Amelia. I'm dragging my feet because I am not a huge Hilary Swank fan something about her really rubs me the wrong way for some reason and more than likely she will be in every scene of the film.

My favorite of all the films is, hands down, Bright Star, it is a beautiful and breathtaking film. It even has Paul Schneider in it who is one of my favorite actors and is also from Asheville, NC, where my husband grew up. It is shocking to me that both Campion and Bigelow were not nominated for best director at the Oscars last year, they both deserved the nominations. I guess film's biggest night is not quite ready enough to give up two seats to women behind the camera. While I can appreciate Hurt Locker, Kathryn Bigelow tends toward films that are a little too intense for me. I also really like a film with a female lead particularly a female who bucks tradition.

 Nancy Meyers {Source}

Thus, bringing me to It's Complicated, which I finally watched this weekend. Since the arrival of the little baby girl into our lives we are not able to make it to the movies as often as we used to go. We're starting to get better about this arranging for a babysitter thing (i.e. my sister or my grandmother), but we're still a little limited. Thank goodness for Netflix. Nothing really substitutes for watching in a theater with the film projected on film (with digital projection I might as well stay at home). Yet, Netflix is a good, yet, distant second. For some reason I don't seem to want to talk about the movie...

Perhaps, because I didn't love it, and I really wanted to love it. My husband really wanted to love it as well, no luck there either. To begin with it felt too long. All the pieces were there they just needed to be rearranged. Meryl Streep was wonderful, but really, when is she not? Notice that she was in two of the above mentioned films, hmmm. Though the scenes with all "the girlfriends" did not ring true to me; they just laughed a lot and were giddy or something. Those scenes were really hard for me to watch. I think that Streep could have done more with the character she was a little one dimensional. She is used to being perfect and gets stomped on and then she breaks the rules and does the stomping. Streep could easily handle more complexity in a character so go ahead and give it to her. There was not enough of Steve Martin he wasn't allowed to really shine. His character was too perfect, too easy. He should have come up earlier it let's Streep off the hook because she ends it with Baldwin before she really starts dating him. The characters need to be allowed to have flaws (besides Baldwin, though somehow his flaw seems not to be a flaw because he is eschewing his young skinny wife for the older ex wife, how noble of him).

Actually, Meyers' last film The Holiday was a little long to me as well, but had a lot of heart and some really wonderful moments.  Some fell flat like Cameron Diaz crying at the end, a little over the top if you ask me. I love when Kate Winslet experiences the Santa Ana winds I almost feel them myself every time I watch the film.

Of course, there is always the chance that my expectations were to high and when I see it again with low expectations I'll appreciate it more. I hate it when I have to say that about a movie with a good movie hopefully expectations wouldn't matter. Though you should still watch it and tell me what you think. Plus, I do love the trailer.

Alright, so next week, Last Year at Marienbad, I promise. Hopefully, I'll be a little more positive. Though, I wasn't all that impressed with the film when I was in undergrad, but now that I've aged a little I thought I'd give it a another go. It just may have been the first French film I ever watched (other than The Red Balloon when I was young).

Monday Film Class: What Remains

To truly be a great filmmaker or even a decent one I believe you really need to know other filmmakers particularly, but not limited to, those that came before you. To amend that perhaps to be an artist you need to study the world that exists beyond you. There are filmmakers that can pick up a book, learn the rules and make a decent film, but those are rarely artists. Now, seeing as this is my mantra, I have been a very bad artist/filmmaker because I am not watching enough films. Yes, Last Year at Marienbad is still in the Netflix sleeve sitting in the same spot. To be fair I did watch another film (it was even French), but I didn't really like it and (gasp) couldn't finish it. I would have forced myself, but my husband wants some new Netflix and we sent it back.

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So this Monday I'm not quite sure what to write about, but all week I have been thinking about the documentary What Remains. Now, Courtney and Tashia the students who inspired me to hold this somewhat abbreviated unfocused psuedo-class have already seen this film, but I think they may need to be reminded of its brilliance.

What Remains has been on my mind because of the documentary proposal I am currently writing. More often than not it seems viewers (or what at times seems more relevant, festivals) want documentaries to be social issue based. They love when a documentary inspires change and a viewer says, "I watched this documentary and it made me want to go out and change the world." Often social issue documentaries are not always well crafted pieces of filmmaking because just getting the shot is more important than getting a well composed beautiful shot; and rightly so. Also, more often than not the filmmakers are not filmmakers and have not studied the craft in a meaningful way before diving in. But, why do these films have to be the dominant form in the documentary field? Sometimes it feels that all other films are subcategories and that documentaries somehow have to change the world or they are a lesser form.

For the moment let's look at films involving musicians. Not the ones that are looking back at a legend's lifetime of work, but those that document the artist in their prime, often performing. More often than not these are given the subcategory: concert film. To me this implies I am just watching an artist perform a concert usually at just one locale. I have no problem with these, I think they are great and are particularly great to play at parties because the television becomes more than a box in the corner and visitors who need to rest or a break from the action have a place to chill out and still be entertained. My issue with this category is that often any film about a musician (that is not historical) becomes a concert film simply because they often (as is needed) include scenes of an artist performing.

A film that gets placed into this subcategory at times is D.A. Pennebaker's Don't Look Back. I consider this film (and it was presented to me in this manner in film school) to be a cornerstone of cinema verite filmmaking. When I show it to my students it shouldn't matter whether or not they like Dylan, more often than not they don't even know who he is, but that they need to pay attention to the form. The ones who can get passed the "ancient, boring, music" (and even some that don't) take a lot away from the film. Even the students interested in narrative filmmaking will reference this film in their pitches and proposals. So often now Don't Look Back seems to be relegated to a concert film (though there is not a full concert or even the appearance of one) or a music documentary. By categorizing it in this way it seems to be less of a documentary, less important, because it is about music.

Though it seems that I have digressed somewhat let's look at how this all ties back to Sally Mann and What Remains. Sally Mann first rose to prominence with a series of photographs documenting her children when they were young. The children were often naked and this caused a stir. Child pornography is obviously a big social issue and so this documentary, on the surface could be sold as such, as is Sally Mann's work. Mann's art is much more than simply a controversy; it is beautiful, poignant, and thought provoking. What Remains is a documentary about an artist, Mann is a part of every scene, every moment. She has moved away from the portraits of her children, they have grown up.

The documentary is beautifully photographed and thoughtfully edited. It ends where it starts with Mann alone in her studio photographing herself. We look in to her eyes as she stares into the lens of her own camera. This documentary will not make you want to change the world, but it is one of the best documentaries I have ever seen. It often has a profound effect on the students who view it and always for different reasons. The same goes for me, depending on what I am doing this film will inspire me for different reasons. Now I am thinking about it because the documentary I want to make is also about artists (dancers, specifically ballerinas) and it feels as though no one will be interested in it because it is not in regards to some awful travesty. Nowadays that seems to be what documentary has become. Case in point; What Remains. Before Stephen Cantor, the film's director, made What Remains he made a short documentary about Sally Mann focused entirely on the child pornography accusations. The short film, Blood Ties, was nominated for an Oscar, and What Remains was not. I think What Remains is brilliant, but Blood Ties not so much. It is a very basic documentary with classic interview set-ups, b-roll, and expert opinion. Sally Mann is a little guarded in it, whereas she is very open and honest in the latter film. If you look at the Oscars in general it always seems to be the topic that is nominated and not the film. A very interesting subject holds up a not so interesting or well done film. I think this has its place in the documentary form, but why must it dominate the documentary form? Why must all other documentaries play second fiddle to a social interest.

No offense, but just because some knucklehead lived next door to a serial killer and he happened to pick up a DV camera and shoot a bunch of shaky DV footage, throws in some fairly well shot interviews with experts, gives that to a professional editor (most often the case) or edits it on the cheapest most common video editing software (selling point for the software company) a great film is very rarely made. This is an example of not a film but an amazing story to print in a festival program. This would never fly in the narrative filmmaking world. Alright, alright, my bitter filmmaker side is revealing itself. A little venting is what a blog is for though (just maybe not film class; that's why this is a pseudo film class).

I just wish there was something controversial about ballerinas, other than eating disorders; I need a Gelsey Kirkland. I don't want the controversy to be the film, I just know the controversial will make people watch it.  Any ideas?

Monday Film Class: Buster and Charlie, Charlie and Buster

I full intended to re-watch and subsequently discuss Last Year at Marienbad, but unfortunately it is still sitting on the television. This week I haven't watched any movies though I have watched almost the entire second season of Party Down with my husband. Hopefully I will be back on track next weekend.

My recommendations for this week go back to the silent era. By watching silent films you can really learn everything you need to know about filmmaking. All of our visual cinematic language was truly created from about 1895-1927. It's often said, and I agree, that sound stunted the growth of cinema as an art form and if silent films extended their heydays by a decade the visual language of film would be exceedingly strong. Silent films are often even harder for students than foreign films. I can attest to this, when I was in college my film history class was a two semester sequence and the entire first semester was 1895-1927. We watched all the films on silent speed with no musical accompaniment. In reality silent films where not silent at all they always had at least a piano player and at times an orchestra. During the semester I thought it was torturous, but once you become accustomed to viewing silent films they are easier to digest and are very enjoyable.

The best place to start to ease your way into the silents is with the comics. Buster Keaton and Charles Chaplin are not only funny, but also superior filmmakers. They are also both extremely different. Buster Keaton does almost unbelievable stunts particularly considering this was before any safety measures. He also uses a lot of trick photography and symmetrical composition. His films are well planned out. Keaton is the master of the deadpan and relies more on the structure of his films than an emotional punch. Often Keaton is challenged by seemingly unbeatable odds; it's not one cop, but hundreds.

Chaplin, on the other hand, packs on emotional wallop. I don't think there is any film made before or after that matches the emotion at the end of The Kid. A while back there was a Bank of America Commercial (or some similar company) that used just the end of the film when Chaplin is racing across the city roofs to rescue his adopted child and I was tearing up. I didn't even have to see little Jackie Coogan. In his work Chaplin relies heavily on his supporting actors and would burn through magazines of film allowing for improvisation. He did not really script out his stories at length. He is most famous for developing the character of the "little tramp." The sweet, lovable, down on his luck clown has become iconic.

Pretty much any film you can pick up directed by one of these masters will be an experience. Be sure that they directed the film and are not simply featured. For Keaton I highly recommend Cops, Sherlock Jr., The General, and Steamboat Bill, Jr. For Chaplin: The Immigrant, The Kid, The Gold Rush, Modern Times and City Lights.  These are not exhaustive lists by any means, but I don't want to overwhelm anyone with silents. In my experience most students are wary of the silents, but Chaplin and Keaton helps to reduce their fears. Often students prefer one or the other and become very defensive of their chosen director. It is always a good class for me when a student who was vehemently opposed to watching silent films at the beginning of the semester sits in class arguing for Buster Keaton's composition and visual impact with another student who prefers the emotion of Chaplin.

Monday Film Class

 The thing about leaving a college is that when you leave there are still three years worth of students who know who you are and want you to stay. We are a small school, which makes it even worse. Those having the toughest time seem to be the juniors, particularly the ones that were my advisees. Two in particular, Courtney and Tashia, are talented filmmakers and want to keep taking classes. Courtney constantly asks me for a list of films for her to watch so that she can continue her studies. So here is a better solution (I hope) than just a list.

Every Monday I will discuss a film that I am currently watching, is a favorite of mine, or one that I believe is a need to watch. At times I may discuss a director instead of a film or maybe even a year (1939 was a particularly good one). There are so many films out there that are worthwhile both historically, artistically, and as legends. I have not even seen everything that I "should" see and, trust me, I've seen a lot of films.

After over a decade of a study in the field I have come to realize that there are two films that if you have not seen them and were to delve into a conversation with a serious cinephile you would be at a lost. Now these two films need to be watched alongside plenty of other films that cover all the decades; keeping in mind that the first film screened in 1895, not 1985. The films from the 1890s are very important and luckily they are short and sweet! But, on to the films for today, this first one should be obvious...

Citizen Kane (Welles 1941)

Surprise! Yes, you need to watch Citizen Kane. In a way it is like telling an art student they should really see the Sistine Chapel. You don't need to be told. Regardless, I'm starting at the beginning here. This is also an unranked look at two films. I am in no way saying I think Citizen Kane is the best film ever (for the record I don't believe that), I'm just saying you need to watch it to understand the scope of cinema. Kane is important for any number of reasons the big one that you will hear over and over again is: deep focus. Welles and his cinematographer, Gregg Toland, were very innovative in using the whole frame to visually tell the story even the background. Watch for the scene when a young Charles plays outside in the snow while his mother makes a deal regarding his life inside their house.

When first watching films it can be hard to understand how a story is told visually and when a story is not being told visually because film is a visual medium. This film should help you to see what can be done visually and why your favorite film last year may not have been nominated for an Oscar. Welles uses every shot in the film to say something about a character or to move the story.

On the Waterfront (Kazan 1954)

I watched On the Waterfront in more classes in college than Citizen Kane and I have undoubtedly shown it more often in classes that I have taught. It couldn't be more different, at least when looking at Hollywood movies, than Citizen Kane. While Kane is an epic visual powerhouse Waterfront is more personal with extensive location shooting. The acting plays the pivotal role in this film and the camera work often plays second fiddle. For instance in the famous white glove sequence where Marlon Brando improvised his actions after Eva Marie Saint dropped her glove. Kazan allowed the camera to continue to roll as Brando began to fiddle with the glove and put it on his hand. The symbolism is strong due to her innocent white glove and the action of him putting it on his hand. His guilt in the involvement of her brother's murder is in question and by taking her glove it can be seen to foreshadow his later actions.

Even though Kazan allowed his actors the freedom to improvise his film still has plenty of visual interest for instance when we see Charlie is revealed in the alley. Another interesting aspect of this film is that it can be read as Elia Kazan's explanation for his testimony at the HUAC trials where he named names. He had held out naming names for awhile and he never gave a clear explanation as to why he suddenly changed his mind and named names. All of the characters in the film can be substituted for various players in the HUAC trials notably with the Brando character representing Kazan.

Notice that both films are in black and white. It's important to not be scared of black and white; it's beautiful. Particularly in films before 1970 when the cinematographers really knew what they were doing when creating images with light and shadows. During my Introduction to Film class at the University of Colorado I overheard two girls planning on skipping out on the film because they couldn't handle all the black and white films they were being forced to watch. They did not understand why they couldn't watch recent movies. Of course, me being the film student snob I was, rolled my eyes and thought to myself, "Why are you even taking this class?" Counting films out just because they are not in color is a huge mistake some of the most amazing films were filmed in black and white. In fact if I were to add a third film to this list it would also be in black and white: Casablanca. Ironically, I believe the film they skipped out on was Last Year at Marienbad, which I just received from Netflix last week.