Tuesday, April 5, 2011

"Man With the Movie Camera"


Although Vertov presents various prevalent themes in his movie, "Man With the Movie Camera", I found myself constantly circulating around two recurring motifs: 

1. Movement, the inability to ever be completely still, and incessant restlessness seen through the certain motifs. 
2. The idea of blindness; the time spent with eyes closed (blinking or sleeping); the slots in between a film reel. Ultimately, the contemplation of what goes on in those fleeting moments of darkness.

After contemplating how these two things worked with and against one and other, I formed the hypothesis that, because everything in life (down the smallest particles of an atom) is constantly in motion, the only hope for stillness is in what we do not witness, or the moments we spend blinking. 

After the opening theatre scene at the beginning of the film, the viewer is provided with images of people sleeping; women, bums, homeless children, and is then followed by images of manikins and machines. There is obviously a stark juxtaposition between organic beings and inanimate objects that distinguishes the differences and similarities between man and machine. In these beginning scenes all objects are at rest, or turned off. The streets are not busy, and there is an eerie sense of peace or stillness.

At a certain point, Vertov focuses in on a woman sleeping. Images flash between her resting body and a man laying his head down on the tracks of a train that is approaching. How Vertov cuts the images implies that the woman is dreaming of this man, who is obviously putting himself into a dangerous situation. The train, which is arguably one of the most repetitive images seen throughout the film, eventually comes to symbolize the incessant movement from one place to the next. (We see trams/trolley’s cutting across city streets between hundreds of people. We see Vertov edit these images so that the trolleys end up running into one and other infinitely. Almost every time there is a shot of a busy street, a trolley is seen cutting through, transporting individuals from one place to the next.) Therefore, the dream that the woman is having of a man who lays his head down to the impending death of an approaching train can be psychoanalytically interpreted. If the train represents movement and the inability to stop moving, it may be the woman’s subconscious belief that this movement, or drive forward, is going to be her ultimate demise. Yet, she still wakes up in the morning, brushes her hair, gets dressed and ready to go out to progress and move forward.

As the film elapses, images of people working, relaxing, playing sports, ect., are provided for brief moments. He gets the point across that there is movement in leisure. These images are presented with images of wheels turning, Merry-Go-Rounds, and essentially anything that can go in never ending circles. Vertov's representation of life's constant movement ultimately leaves the viewer feeling exhausted and tormented with the idea that a single thing can never be still; things may just go round and round for no reason.  The idea of restlessness seeps out through the images. This is most prevalent in the moments where he films photographs or certain stills.  These moments emphasize the fact that the camera itself is recording, the machine is moving, in order to film still images. So, although we are looking at a still image, it is, in fact, not still.

Yet, he also places a heavy emphasis on the time spent in darkness, creating a sense of wonderment and providing a glimpse into the stillness of a void. In the moments where he films photographs, the viewer can visibly see the blank spaces in between the reel’s stills.
With that recognition, it is difficult to imagine what we are missing in those moments of blackness. We also see those images juxtaposed with the blinking of the filmmakers eye behind the lens.

This brings me back to the initial few scenes, which show people sleeping. They look peaceful and, obviously, at rest. This implies that the only time the movement of the world stops is when our eyes are closed, which, considering how many times we blink a day, is quite often. According to Vertov, the world is always moving and always stopped.  

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Rose Hobart

I found that my interpretation of the Rose Hobart differed from the discussion presented in class. Rather than focusing on the idea of Cornell's obsession for Rose Hobart and this being a "fan" film, I took the film to be an exploration of the female unconsciousness, and focused on a psychoanalytical reaction of the images provided.

The film opens with the image of Rose Hobart sleeping alone behind white sheets. According to Freud, it is through dreaming that we discover subconscious emotions and attitudes; therefore, as the camera slowly moves forward into the room, the viewer is invited into her dream world, or subconscious mind. The setting in which she sleeps is also very comfortable, far away, relaxed, and presents an atmosphere that resembles a fantasy. Additionally, Cornell omits the dialogue, uses a blue tint for effect, and inserts a fun and explorative melody. As a result, the film immediately sets up a fantasy world focused on the female. As suspected, the images  presented thereafter center around power, sexuality, and independence. 
The very next image presented is a burning flame, possibly representing the main character's vitality, soul, inner torment, or sin. The flame seems to draw us further into the darkness of this woman. We witness a few images of Rose before she leans over a balcony and discovers a ball dropping into water. The incredible sexual imagery presented here is obvious. The texture of the water (as viewed through the blue tint) and the action being performed seem symbolic of female sexuality. Additionally, the concentric circles that disperse out resemble an explosion of some sort, adding on to the idea of desire.
After these introspective scenes, the scenes move outward, focusing on Rose's physical appearance. She is often seen standing alone, constantly looking at someone. As viewers, we rarely see the person she is staring at. Either the person is simply not there, or he is unattainable. Either way, it enhances the feeling that she is alone; she is watching but not being a part of something. She seems distanced. But her facial features reveal a fierce and independent quality, conniving, innocent, and at the same time unsure of herself. The emotions evoked toward her are heightened when she hides a gun in her purse, appearing sexy, dangerous, and willing to defend herself. At this point, the viewer senses a sort of anxiety or danger. It seems natural that directly after this we are finally introduced to some of the male characters and discover that she is living in a jungle. 
Various other symbolic images appear before us: an erupting volcano, a person intruding in her bedroom, the solar eclipse, ect. At one point, another female enters the picture and can be seen randomly throughout. As a viewer, it is difficult to tell whether or not the other female is a threat, a companion, or perhaps another love interest? 
What is interesting about the film is that the last few scenes focus on the solar eclipse and the ball dropping into the water. Nothing ever becomes of the gun, and there doesn't seem to be a resolution. The viewer is left with a feeling that Rose has not come to a conclusion, that her sexuality is still rooted deep within her unconscious. Yet she is still invariably a woman, and we are ultimately left feeling as if we have entered into her unconscious and discovered something there.