Snowpiercer – left or right →
Every Frame a Painting strikes again with a great three minute clip dissecting how Snowpiercer uses cinematography to convey a character’s choices and propel the narrative forward.
Every Frame a Painting strikes again with a great three minute clip dissecting how Snowpiercer uses cinematography to convey a character’s choices and propel the narrative forward.
Andrew Deyoung on Inception’s well debated ending (mild, oblique spoilers for that film below):
Lost in these either/or debates (which I find to be pretty dull, see also: The Sopranos) is what I’ve always found to be a far more interesting possibility: that this final shot functions less in the world of the story than it does on the meta-level of the film itself—the shared dream-world created by Nolan and his filmmaking crew and occupied, for a time, by the audience, a dream world that comes to an abrupt end with the cut to credits that immediately follows the wobbling of the top.
In other words, I don’t think that is Dom’s totem. I think it’s ours.
Giant Bomb’s Patrick Klepek writes a fascinating post on the intersection between gaming and film with regard to a game’s aspect ratio:
For the sake of argument, let’s say that’s not true, and Mikami chose 2.35:1 because it’s part of his vision. Given he’s deployed similar aesthetic choices in the past, it’s not unreasonable. The man enjoys blending Hollywood and games. If Mikami wants The Evil Within to be played with this aspect ratio, which frames the game through a particular lens, perhaps players should show that decision respect, despite other options.
Or maybe not! By being interactive, perhaps games invite players to subvert the designer’s will and aspect ratios are merely an act of interpretation. World builders can set up an experience a certain way, but the free will of a player means the creator gives up the right to be upset over what they do with the game, even when it comes to tinkering with technical specifications.
The truth, of course, is probably somewhere in-between.
Nine minutes of packed references from Josh Whedon’s 2012 deconstructed horror film. Horror is admittedly a film genre I tend to avoid, but I had a wonderful time watching this movie years ago in the theater. Available on Netflix now.
(Yes, this post would have been more apt a few days ago, but I stumbled on it over the weekend.)
I thought I’d move past linking to more Gone Girl articles, but here we are; it’s that strong of a film. DP Jeff Cronenweth talks about Fincher’s preferred visual style:
I think that, for the most part, the camera is never in a position that would be a typical shot. There are no shots that are ever taken for granted. There’s a purpose behind everything — without getting crazy; obviously certain situations allow you a lot more freedom than other situations, but it always intrigues me that it’s slightly not normal, or not traditional, rather. The camera tends to stay lower; we’re always looking at people in an observational way that allows you, really, to study them and give them an opportunity to express whatever turmoil’s going on in their heads that then reflects in their performances. The camera has movement but nothing is ever moving for the sake of movement, you know? There’s purpose for everything, as opposed to filling in a void in content or our energy by deciding to make some interesting camera moves. The camera moves have a reason.
I was worried when I saw the feature title; was The Dissolve stooping to cheap listicle work for page hits? Turned out to be a false alarm – the entire Dissolve staff trades off for analysis of how each music snippet works so well within a film’s context. There’s almost always a Youtube clip to accompany each selection as well.
Only disappointment: The Big Lebowski’s “Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In” should have ranked higher.
The Dissolve’s Matt Singer writes a David Fincher essay that’s thankfully not another think piece on misogyny within Gone Girl (there been many excellent pieces, but it feels done to death at this point.) Instead Matt takes a broader look at the director’s entire career:
Perhaps the most compelling rebuke to the idea that Gone Girl isn’t worthy of Fincher, or that he has no authorial stake in the material, is the fact that Flynn’s story—about the exceedingly nasty fallout of an unhappy marriage—lets Fincher finally foreground one of the most persistent background themes in all his work: the inherent incompatibility of men and women, and the inevitability of an unhappy ending in almost every relationship.
Lots of smart examples and analysis throughout.
Considering Gone Girl was just released it’s an apt time to review director David Fincher’s filmography. There’s surely a lot of other good video essays out there, but this recent analysis by Every Frame a Painting is excellent. It’s devoted to a technical breakdown of Fincher’s preferred shot composition, supported by many examples from his entire filmography (with Gone Girl of course, exempted.)
GoodBadFlicks reviews the evolution of the PG-13 rating since it’s introduction in 1984. Most of the focus is on recent years where many otherwise R rated films trim content to ensure a PG-13. Remember, with a PG-13 the desirable teen demographic can watch unrestricted. But in the process, it’s watering down a lot of otherwise great content. To quote the narration:
PG-13 is supposed to be pushing the envelope of PG, not pulling R backwards.
Such an amazing debut from director Kenneth Lonergan. It’s one of my favorite movies from the early 2000s, highlighted by impeccable acting by Mark Ruffalo (who broke through to a wider audience after being noticed here) and Laura Linney.