This was my first time seeing Poltergeist, and even though I had heard from many people beforehand that it was really frightening and horrifying, most of those people qualified that statement with "or at least it was when I saw it as a kid." Also, I'm not one to usually get scared by horror films (or at least not ghost-story type horror flicks) -- I think the more realistic serial killer-type movies like Se7en or Saw are creepier. So, I went into the film without any real expectations of any kind. While Poltergeist didn't scare me (as I probably could have predicted), I was entertained and enjoyed the film for the most part...at least until the last half hour. After the ghosts started coming back a second time and skeletons started popping up in random places, it just got way too hokey for me and I could no longer take the film seriously. I found myself laughing at many of the things that I think were intended to frighten the audience. I think this over-the-top finale really ruined the film for me, or at least made me like it a lot less than I might have. So, it is with this in mind that I, just on principle, do not want to consider Poltergeist a Steven Spielberg film. The reason I say that is, I'm a huge Spielberg fan, and I always tell my friends that I believe Steven Spielberg has never directed a bad movie. (Yes, I even like Hook, but I refuse to see 1941 because I don't want my statement to be proven wrong!) And while I might not go so far as to say that Poltergeist is bad, I would still prefer not to think of it as part of his canon. Yet, this is an issue that has been up for debate since the film's release.
Was Poltergeist truly directed by Tobe Hooper as the film's credits say, or did Steven Spielberg intervene and act as the dominant creative force as many film critics believe? Warren Buckland's extremely detailed shot-by-shot analysis of Poltergeist against samples of Spielberg and Hooper films ultimately concludes that Hooper did direct Poltergeist, but that Spielberg seems to have had some major control over the film in terms of the post-production process and the shaping of the final cut. While Buckland's analysis does point out some Spielberg trademarks evident in Poltergeist, such as opening with sound over a black screen or shooting a number of scenes from low camera height, I still did not feel like I was watching a Spielberg film and personally did not notice very many Spielbergian traits. For example, one Spielberg techinique that commonly appears in many of his films (including the scene from Jaws that I described a while back) is a long take with a moving camera. As Buckland demonstrates, there is a very small percentage of scenes that involve a moving camera in Poltergeist, when compared to Spielberg's other films, indicating (among other reasons) that Hooper had control of the camera here. Since I have not seen any other Tobe Hooper films (I know it's a shame...The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is on my list of movies to see), I cannot really judge how much Poltergeist feels like a Hooper film, but to me, it just doesn't scream Spielberg, so I'm glad that Buckland's conclusion agrees with me.
One thing I did like about the film was Craig T. Nelson. I think he did a fine job as Steve, and it was fun to watch the future voice of Mr. Incredible as the head of the family in this film as well. Along those lines, this is another aspect of the film that sets Poltergeist apart from typical Spielberg films, at least in terms of theme. Usually, Spielberg's father figures either fail at fulfilling their role as a dad or are incapable of being the masculine father figure they should be or straight-up abandon their families. However, in Poltergeist, Steve does everything he can to help his wife find their missing daughter and bring her back, and the film is more about bringing the family back together than it is watching the family fall apart (as in Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind). Then again, it is partially Steve's fault that all of this mayhem occurs, considering he is indirectly responsible for building their house on top of an old cemetery. Nonetheless, Craig T. Nelson as Steve is still the "man" that Spielberg's men typically aren't. But of course, nobody is as much the "man" as the man himself, Steven Spielberg, who, ghost-director of Poltergeist or not, still has never directed a bad film.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Close Encounters & Spielberg Themes
This was only the second time that I had seen Close Encounters of the Third Kind (and the first was many years ago), so I went into the film nearly with a fresh slate. However, as I watched the film, scenes kept coming back to me and I repeatedly got that "Oh yeah!" feeling right before something was about to happen, which was a very fun experience. A few key moments that I had remembered, which still stick out in my mind after seeing the film again, are the scenes where Richard Dreyfuss's character, Roy, attempts to recreate Devil's Tower using objects around the house -- first with the mashed potatoes at the dinner table and then later with all of the plants, dirt, etc. from outside the house.
It is this second scene that I really wanted to talk about first, because it highlights a common Steven Spielberg theme that we have discussed quite a bit already and continues to reappear in many other future Spielberg films -- the deterioration of the family. As Roy rips plants out his garden and his neighbor's chicken wire out of the ground, proceeding to throw all of these things into the window of his home (along with some dirt that he has shoveled in), the audience begins to see that he is clearly starting to "lose it" because of his obsession with his alien encounter. While we can sympathize with Roy here because we, the audience, know that he really has seen extraterrestrials (since we too saw the UFOs at the beginning of the film), Roy's family does not share this knowledge or this sympathy. As a result, they think that Roy has simply gone totally insane, and his family totally falls apart. It is an interesting question here as to whether Spielberg wants the audience to sympathize with or be angry at Roy's family for not trusting him and supporting him in this obsession, but either way, I think it is pretty clear that we are not supposed to think that it is necessarily Roy's "fault" for what is happening. His wife and kids, though, do see it that way, as shown by another scene where Roy is crying in the bathroom because he can't explain to his wife what's going on. Here, Roy's son Brad yells at him and calls him a "baby" for the way that he behaves. This brings up another common motif that Spielberg usees -- the question of manliness or masculinity. It is interesting to see such themes that we found in Jaws show up again in Close Encounters.
On the other hand, one recurring Spielberg trademark that seems to actually begin with this film is the tremendous use of bright or colored light and how that light interacts with the characters. This is something that shows up again in later Spielberg films, namely his science fiction films (such as E.T.), but Spielberg really seems to be experimenting with it here and playing around with light in a big way, essentially for the first time. A few memorable (and even now iconic) scenes from Close Encounters that demonstrate this are Roy's first encounter with the aliens where the UFOs light up and actually even burn his face, the scene where they young boy opens the door to let in the red light from the spacecraft, and of course the spectacular "light show" at the end when the aliens actually land at Devil's Tower. One thing I wanted to add about this concluding scene at Devil's Tower is that Warren Buckland, in his writing about this film, claims that one trait that dominates Close Encounters more than others is Spielberg's use of off-screen space (as he mastered with the shark in Jaws). However, it is interesting to note that Buckland praises Spielberg for his use of the "hidden" and the "unknown" numerous times in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, yet Buckland does not really criticize Spielberg for then violating that trend and breaking the mystery by then showing us the aliens at the end of the film. (However, at least in the Ultimate Version of the film he refrains from showing the inside of the spaceship.) In any case, Close Encounters of the Third Kind is another one of Steven Spielberg's classic entries, and it continues as well as establishes many of the themes, techniques, and trademarks that we will see over and over again in Spielberg's later films.
It is this second scene that I really wanted to talk about first, because it highlights a common Steven Spielberg theme that we have discussed quite a bit already and continues to reappear in many other future Spielberg films -- the deterioration of the family. As Roy rips plants out his garden and his neighbor's chicken wire out of the ground, proceeding to throw all of these things into the window of his home (along with some dirt that he has shoveled in), the audience begins to see that he is clearly starting to "lose it" because of his obsession with his alien encounter. While we can sympathize with Roy here because we, the audience, know that he really has seen extraterrestrials (since we too saw the UFOs at the beginning of the film), Roy's family does not share this knowledge or this sympathy. As a result, they think that Roy has simply gone totally insane, and his family totally falls apart. It is an interesting question here as to whether Spielberg wants the audience to sympathize with or be angry at Roy's family for not trusting him and supporting him in this obsession, but either way, I think it is pretty clear that we are not supposed to think that it is necessarily Roy's "fault" for what is happening. His wife and kids, though, do see it that way, as shown by another scene where Roy is crying in the bathroom because he can't explain to his wife what's going on. Here, Roy's son Brad yells at him and calls him a "baby" for the way that he behaves. This brings up another common motif that Spielberg usees -- the question of manliness or masculinity. It is interesting to see such themes that we found in Jaws show up again in Close Encounters.
On the other hand, one recurring Spielberg trademark that seems to actually begin with this film is the tremendous use of bright or colored light and how that light interacts with the characters. This is something that shows up again in later Spielberg films, namely his science fiction films (such as E.T.), but Spielberg really seems to be experimenting with it here and playing around with light in a big way, essentially for the first time. A few memorable (and even now iconic) scenes from Close Encounters that demonstrate this are Roy's first encounter with the aliens where the UFOs light up and actually even burn his face, the scene where they young boy opens the door to let in the red light from the spacecraft, and of course the spectacular "light show" at the end when the aliens actually land at Devil's Tower. One thing I wanted to add about this concluding scene at Devil's Tower is that Warren Buckland, in his writing about this film, claims that one trait that dominates Close Encounters more than others is Spielberg's use of off-screen space (as he mastered with the shark in Jaws). However, it is interesting to note that Buckland praises Spielberg for his use of the "hidden" and the "unknown" numerous times in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, yet Buckland does not really criticize Spielberg for then violating that trend and breaking the mystery by then showing us the aliens at the end of the film. (However, at least in the Ultimate Version of the film he refrains from showing the inside of the spaceship.) In any case, Close Encounters of the Third Kind is another one of Steven Spielberg's classic entries, and it continues as well as establishes many of the themes, techniques, and trademarks that we will see over and over again in Spielberg's later films.
Monday, February 9, 2009
On Jaws: The Most Famous Shark in Cinema
Having seen Jaws numerous times over the course of my life, it has been an interesting experience viewing it again in an academic context and taking a closer look at the film from an analytical perspective. Watching Jaws through this academic lens and looking specifically at the techniques Spielberg uses to engage and manipulate the audience and their emotions has allowed me to see beyond the pure entertainment value of the film and appreciate the true skill and craft that has gone into its creation. As Warren Buckland points out, Spielberg, even at this early stage in his career, is already a master of creating effective and dynamic shots that are well-composed and attain what he calls "organic unity."
One scene in particular that I found really interesting (which Buckland mentions as well), is the scene of the second shark attack. I thought it was a clever move of Spielberg to create suspense by teasing the audience and cutting between a variety of different characters: the young boy (Alex), the man with his dog, the older woman on the raft, the young couple, and so on. Here, Spielberg cleverly tricks the audience into believing that each of these people will be the shark's next victim by showing the beach as Chief Brody sees it, as he jumps at each possible hint of danger in the water. What impresses me most about this scene is that although we assume Alex will end up being the one eaten by the shark from the very beginning of the scene (since he is the only character introduced by name and the camera links he and Brody by panning from one to the other), Spielberg is still able to give the audience some doubt before fulfilling these expectations. I thought it was especially inventive of Spielberg to include the shot where we see from Brody's POV looking over the shoulder of an older man who is speaking to him. But like Brody, we do not pay any attention to what this man says because we are really watching the young girl in the water behind him, waiting for the next possible attack. When she screams, we are almost happy that our anticipation has been satisfied at last (as sick as that may be), only to find that she is actually just playing around with her boyfriend. It takes a skilled director like Steven Spielberg to accomplish such a play of emotions here, causing the audience to possibly even be disappointed when the girl has not actually been attacked.
After watching the fim again, it is no wonder that Jaws became the first summer blockbuster and launched us into a new era of 21st century filmmaking. Not only is it an extremely entertaining (and sometimes terrifying) movie, but it is an expertly shot and creatively crafted film thanks to Steven Spielberg. At such an early point in his career, an achievement like Jaws is a sign of Spielberg's natural talent as a director and an indication of his future success and acclaim to come years later.
One scene in particular that I found really interesting (which Buckland mentions as well), is the scene of the second shark attack. I thought it was a clever move of Spielberg to create suspense by teasing the audience and cutting between a variety of different characters: the young boy (Alex), the man with his dog, the older woman on the raft, the young couple, and so on. Here, Spielberg cleverly tricks the audience into believing that each of these people will be the shark's next victim by showing the beach as Chief Brody sees it, as he jumps at each possible hint of danger in the water. What impresses me most about this scene is that although we assume Alex will end up being the one eaten by the shark from the very beginning of the scene (since he is the only character introduced by name and the camera links he and Brody by panning from one to the other), Spielberg is still able to give the audience some doubt before fulfilling these expectations. I thought it was especially inventive of Spielberg to include the shot where we see from Brody's POV looking over the shoulder of an older man who is speaking to him. But like Brody, we do not pay any attention to what this man says because we are really watching the young girl in the water behind him, waiting for the next possible attack. When she screams, we are almost happy that our anticipation has been satisfied at last (as sick as that may be), only to find that she is actually just playing around with her boyfriend. It takes a skilled director like Steven Spielberg to accomplish such a play of emotions here, causing the audience to possibly even be disappointed when the girl has not actually been attacked.
After watching the fim again, it is no wonder that Jaws became the first summer blockbuster and launched us into a new era of 21st century filmmaking. Not only is it an extremely entertaining (and sometimes terrifying) movie, but it is an expertly shot and creatively crafted film thanks to Steven Spielberg. At such an early point in his career, an achievement like Jaws is a sign of Spielberg's natural talent as a director and an indication of his future success and acclaim to come years later.
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