>> CineFix Host: For this week's list, we want to take a break from ranking things
and spend some time appreciating the beauty and the details.
Pointing out some of the subtle ways films speak to us in this
little moments you might have otherwise missed.
These are five unranked brilliant little moments in great films.
>> [MUSIC]
>> CineFix Host: Cinema is a distinctly active visual media,
where novels have the ability to dedicate pages of their story to the internal and
the complex, cinema is forced to find a way to show it happen.
So one of the things we really wanted to highlight with this list is how
clever film makers have found ways to visualize the un-visual.
How films managed to reach beyond the surface,
how they render the internal external in a clear and understandable way.
And what gave us this idea was a tiny little moment
from Ang Lee's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.
When the green destiny sword is stolen by a masked thief and
the thief is track back to Governor Yu, Shu Lien sets out quietly investigate
the Governor's household, including his suspicious daughter Jen.
Now Shu Lien has already fought the thief and
she already notice the thief's particular martial arts skills.
Then we get this sequence and something important happens.
>> Jen: [FOREIGN]
>> CineFix Host: Without saying a single word, we get to watch Shu Lien
realize that Jen is a gifted martial artist and possibly the thief.
In just a few simple shots, Ang Lee has rendered realization visual.
Now, this doesn't happen in a vacuum.
He's already established Shu Lien's suspicion but
let's unpack this brief moment and how it works.
After establishing the scene, he cuts to a closeup of the brush tip and
what starts as a rather ordinary static shot lingers longer than you might expect.
Devoting extra time to gliding along with the brush stroke.
This extra time cues us to mark the beauty and rhythm of the writing and
pay a little closer attention.
The film cuts to the top of the brush and Jen's hand holding it.
Two long close-ups of different parts of the same object
in succession ,which will be a relatively unusual coincidence in a well-made film.
Of course, it's not a coincidence.
A well placed close-up doesn't just show us an arbitrary detail,
it shows us a specific one.
And in a place where we might not ordinarily expect it,
the close-up insists upon itself.
It asks us to consider why we're watching this close-up,
giving an ordinary object extraordinary importance.
Not only that, but this second shot specifically excludes the brush.
We are focusing on a handle and how it is held, its movement, its precision,
separate from its use as a writing instrument.
With this amount of time dedicated to it, it's hard for
the audience not to start making connections.
Finally to complete the sequence, we cut to a medium close up of Shu Lien
shifting her eyes from the brush to Jen, revealing the previous shot to be a POV.
This extra importance we've given to the brush tip and
the brush handle that wasn't just us.
We can conclude that the importance with which we regarded that object
is the same importance with which Shu Lien did.
And in three simple shots we see that Shu Lien is paying extra
special attention to the way Jen holds her brush.
And with a little inference has realized that Jen knows how to wield a sword.
Of course as an added bonus and if anyone hasn't picked up on it yet,
check out what Shu Lien says next.
>> Shu Lien: [FOREIGN] >> CineFix Host: What
she's really saying here, is I now know you know how to use a sword.
And from the look on Jen's face we're not the only one's who pick up on it.
Now while we're talking realization, Crouching Tigers reminds us
of another one, one that's even more technical and precise.
Because while there's no denying that the wonderful human performances of
Michelle Yeoh and Ziyi Zhang help us along, could a film show us realization in
the mind of a character who has no emotion at all?
And it obviously can,
as seen in the lip-reading scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey.
When Bowman and Poole go into an insulated pod to talk about their concerns over
their artificially intelligent computer system HAL, without it overhearing,
things don't quite go as planned.
>> Dave: You know another thing just occurred to me.
>> Frank: Hm? >> Dave: Well, as far as I know,
no 9,000 computer's ever been disconnected.
>> Frank: No 9,000 computer's ever fouled up before.
>> Dave: That's not what I mean.
>> Frank: Hm?
>> Dave: I'm not so sure what he'd think about it.
>> CineFix Host: First the set up,
the two astronauts talk privately about their concerns about HAL.
And traditionally they would be the focal point of the shot but
the drop dead centered deep focus framing of HAL along with their constant looks
towards him keep us ominously shifting our focus to
him throughout the entire conversation an unblinking and ever present threat.
And then we cut a closeup on HAL, the sound is dead silence, eerie silence, and
there's something odd about this.
At first it seems like we're getting this close-up off of the astronaut's
reference to him.
>> Dave: I'm not so sure what I think about it.
>> CineFix Host: But if we were still operating out of their perspective,
we would expect to still hear their voices in the background,
as if this was their POV.
But we don't, and we soon realize it isn't.
We've shifted perspectives to HAL's point of view,
which immediately signals to us that something else is going on.
And when the shot cuts again, we see what?
HAL is doing something, from his POV,
we see that he's following the entire conversation and no, we can't hear it but
the ultra-tight framing on their mouths tells us he's focusing on their lips.
It's an unusual composition.
It's not how normal people experience a conversation,
either in real life or cinema.
And this traditional breach lets us know that something different is going on,
which allows us to infer that he's reading their lips.
Imagine this shot if it were just a close-up, panning back and
forth between their entire faces, we would read it an entirely different way.
It might seem like HAL was struggling and failing to follow the conversation,
helplessly looking back and forth, but
by singling in on exactly what matters, their lips, we catch the real meaning.
Next we wanna take a look at Inglourious Basterds' pub scene.
When Lieutenant Hicox goes to a German tavern to meet with an undercover Bridget
von Hammersmark, the Gestapo Major Dieter Hellstrom becomes suspicious of his accent
and invites himself over to investigate.
And while Hicox manages to explain away the accent,
something else happens to give him away.
>> Hellstrom: [FOREIGN] >> Hicox: [FOREIGN]
>> Hellstrom: [FOREIGN]
>> Bartender: [FOREIGN]
>> Hellstrom: [FOREIGN]
>> Bridget: [FOREIGN]
>> Hicox: [FOREIGN]
>> CineFix Host: Sometimes it's
helpful to think of every shot as a close-up.
Even the medians, even the two-shots, even the wides.
That's because a director truly in control of his medium, is trying to show you
exactly what he wants you to see at any given moment, nothing more, nothing less.
If you're suppose to pay attention to just one thing, exclude everything else.
If you want to connect two things, put them together in a frame.
If you want to look at a big picture, you put it all in the frame,
and this way a two shot is a close up a relationship and a wide shot is
a close up of an entire room and a close up, is a close up of, well, the close up.
So, how does that play out here?
Well, it primarily hinges on one single shot, this one.
>> CineFix Host: Breaking this moment down into plain
English as we come to understand it, Major Hellstrom notices Lieutenant Hicox's
distinctly English gesture and realizes he is not a German after all.
Instead of breaking it into three different shots,
like Lee and Kubrick, Tarantino goes for it in one.
The shot begins as a closeup of his fingers holding up three, and
then turns into an over the shoulder on Hellstrom as he looks between Hicox's
fingers and his face, bringing the conversation to a dead stop.
Notice how this one shot starts with Hellstrom's dramatic head snap.
His attention shifts rapidly and
obviously, letting us know that something important has happened.
Note also that Tarantino's over the shoulder here provides actual information
about what Hicox's is doing by being wide and in focus enough to read, as opposed to
the over the shoulder earlier in the scene that provides far less information.
This keeps us thinking about the dramatic relationship between the two men
as opposed to just Hellstrom.
We're also cued into the shift in the nature of the scene by the immediate
rhythmic and sonic change.
What was previously a scene of snappy back and forth dialogue.
>> Bartender: [FOREIGN] >> Hellstrom: [FOREIGN]
>> CineFix Host: Turns into one of
silence.
>> CineFix Host: All we can hear are glasses clinking, water pouring, and
a low murmur in the background.
While Tarantino's directing choices here are certainly more efficient than our
previous example's, we're not sure they're clear enough to sufficiently convey
specifically that Major Hellstrom has noticed Hicox's hand gesture to any but
the savviest audience members on a first viewing.
While we certainly notice and abrupt shift, and
understand immediately that the jig is up and Hellstrom is now a dangerous enemy.
And this is probably all that Tarantino was going for,
the how is better explained later in dialog.
>> Lt. Aldo Raine: How'd the shooting start?
>> Bridget: Englishman, gave himself away.
>> Lt. Aldo Raine: How'd he do that?
>> Bridget: He ordered three glasses.
He ordered three glasses, that's the German three.
>> CineFix Host: This verbally pings us and asks us to recall the previous shot,
which we do because attention was drawn to it.
But it wasn't quite enough of a breach of expectation at the time to draw us
into a fully aware realization.
Enough of realizations, what about another supposed unfilmable?
How about a decision?
In The Godfather, Michael has volunteered to kill a rival of his family and
the dirty cop works for him during an apparent truce talk.
Michael has never worked for the family before, nor has he assassinated anyone and
while the plan was for him to go to the bathroom, retrieved the planted gun and
come out shooting, he doesn't.
>> [MUSIC]
>> CineFix Host: After a brilliant moment of indecision we don't have time to unpack
here, but extra credit if you do it in the comments,
Micheal sits down into a simple over the shoulder shot at the table.
But once included shoulder connecting him with Micheal and pointing toward
the dialog between them, soon becomes a clean single as the camera pushes in.
>> Speaker 11: Too bad,
[FOREIGN]
[NOISE].
>> CineFix Host: In keeping with the concept of every shot a closeup,
by excluding the other characters at the table,
the film is signaling to us that they're not important right now.
The plot isn't happening with them, it's just happening with Michael.
And pushing centrally inwards reinforces, intensifies, and
lets us know that this is intentional.
It makes our close up more close up, it asks us to focus more, to exclude more,
to be distracted less.
It invites us to heighten our focus on the subject in exclusion of the environment.
This leads us inwards, and to Pacino's performance.
Here, it's all in the eyes.
Now, I don't know if it's fair to call this performance realistic or not.
It's certainly believable,
no one's questioning whether Pacino is convincing us here.
But does someone making a decision move their eyes like this in real life?
I'm not sure.
It's hard to remember seeing anyone do this, and harder still to do it yourself.
What it is, is expressive.
Watch it without his eyes and see how much of a difference it makes.
>> Speaker 11: [FOREIGN] >> CineFix Host: They signal to us
inner movement, the wheels are turning, he's deciding something.
And it doesn't take much effort for the audience to intuit what.
And finally there's the sound.
>> Speaker 11: [FOREIGN] >> CineFix Host: What if we
extended our concept of close up to more than the image?
What if we do a close up with sound too?
What if we do a sound push in?
As the camera moves closer, Sollozzo's dialogue is quieter, almost further away.
Even if it were in our language, we hardly be able to hear it anymore.
We're no longer paying attention to the words just like Michael is.
And not only are the words not the point,
the fact that the words aren't the point is the point.
Coppola is drawing our attention to Michael's inattention.
And then, there's the subway sound, overwhelming the soundscape of the scene.
A sonic close-up of a pot bubbling over.
The unrealistic loudness and grating nature of the sound both intellectually
signaling a climax to his thought and emotionally pushing us into dis-ease.
Putting it all together, you have a handful of simple signifier's of
film language combining to communicate the complex notion of Michael deciding
to murder two men, all without a single word of expository dialogue.
>> [SOUND] >> CineFix Host: So we lied a little bit
when we said film was just a visual
medium, it's a sonic one too.
Although, people often forget sound in favor of its flashier brother image,
it's often just as important, if not more so.
Consider some of the low budget found footage movies,
like Paranormal Activity or Blair Witch Project.
The visuals are shaky and low-fi, and occasionally incomprehensible.
Shot for thousands, not millions of dollars.
When acquired by studios for wide release,
the same studios pump a couple million more into polishing the film.
But it doesn't go to the picture, no, that money goes to making the sound tolerable.
Given a choice between two films, one with poor picture and good sound, and the other
vice versa, you'll find most gravitating towards the better sounding film.
So for our last little feature at,
we wanna look at how sound can bypass the logical, the intellectual, and as we
hinted at with The Godfather, communicate with us on a visceral and emotional level.
To paraphrase famous sound editor Walter Murch,
while visuals tend to knock on our front door and get our attention,
sounds sneaks in through the back and acts on us without our knowledge.
And one of the most visceral examples of this we can remember, happens in 127
Hours, when after five agonizing days of being trapped under a boulder,
Aron Ralston finally cuts through his arm.
>> [MUSIC]
>> Aron Ralston: [SOUND] Aah!
>> CineFix Host: How does a film communicate intense pain?
Sure, you can show someone else experiencing it and
count on our empathy to fill in the blanks, but
there's a limit to the discomfort that our mere neurons can create.
So first,
watch the moment when Aaron cuts through his arm without sound, visuals only.
>> [MUSIC]
>> CineFix Host: Kind of mediocre, right?
We know he's in pain but we can't fight experience with it.
Now, give it a watch with sound.
>> [MUSIC]
>> Aron Ralston: Aah!
>> CineFix Host: It is much different, isn't it?
You're reaction probably range from mild shock to actual anxiety to significant
physical discomfort, chills, wincing and turning away.
>From a sound,
our bodies are bizarrely hard wired to respond vicerally to different sounds.
>From the anxiety that comes with the inaudible sub base rumble,
to the spine chilling response to nails on a chalkboard,
sounds seem to speak more to our emotions than to our intellects.
While Crouching Tiger's concepts take time for us to understand,
Aron Ralston's pain is instant because sounds don't communicate concept and
symbols so much as they communicate feelings and moods.
Consider 2001's eerie silence, Inglorious Bastards tense clinking,
the Godfather's roaring subway and now 127 Hours jarring electric nerve, shock.
We don't watch them and think to ourselves, hm, this silence is eerie now,
which means something bad is afoot.
Because we don't have to, we intuit it directly,
which when combined with the logical communication of a series of images,
makes up one hell of a cinematic toolkit.
You like this kind of list?
Wanna see more like it?
Any ideas for other lists you'd like us to do?
Seriously, we're running out of ideas here.
Let us know in the comments below and be sure to subscribe for
more Cinefix movie lists.
>> [MUSIC]