Recently, I have
begun to study the intricacies of how to make a film. Every tiny,
(seemingly) insignificant detail takes an extraordinary amount of
time and energy on the part of the entire crew to make a seamless
final product.
From becoming fluent
in screen language, to accurately describe and discuss the process;
to production management, and all of its paper work; to deciding
exactly how to cover a scene be it with mid shots, closeups, long
shots etc; to pre, during and post-production sound mixing; not to
mention the incredible importance of, and unbelievable nightmare that
is lighting each and every scene. But one of the most intricate
aspects, that can have the greatest effect, is that of the shot
framing and composition that makes up the mise-en-scene – that
being everything that appears before the camera, or everything that
one sees within a particular shot/scene as a viewer.
The analysis of cinematic mise-en-scene is always the first step for new cinema studies students, as it is the most immediately recognisable aspect of film viewing. Mise-en-scene was always an aspect of a film that, as an uneducated viewer, I did not pay great attention to. Like any cinephile, I could appreciate the look of a film, but could not put into words exactly why. This is where framing and composition make the most difference, but can often be the least noticeable at the same time. Skilled cinematography can sometimes allow us to return to the blissful ignorance of that uneducated phase, in which we know we are enjoying a scene but are too immersed in the experience to analyse why. This can work effectively on the opposite end of the spectrum, whereby the mise-en-scene is, instead, arranged in such a way to illicit a fearful or uneasy response from a viewer who is otherwise too engaged to analyse why.
The analysis of cinematic mise-en-scene is always the first step for new cinema studies students, as it is the most immediately recognisable aspect of film viewing. Mise-en-scene was always an aspect of a film that, as an uneducated viewer, I did not pay great attention to. Like any cinephile, I could appreciate the look of a film, but could not put into words exactly why. This is where framing and composition make the most difference, but can often be the least noticeable at the same time. Skilled cinematography can sometimes allow us to return to the blissful ignorance of that uneducated phase, in which we know we are enjoying a scene but are too immersed in the experience to analyse why. This can work effectively on the opposite end of the spectrum, whereby the mise-en-scene is, instead, arranged in such a way to illicit a fearful or uneasy response from a viewer who is otherwise too engaged to analyse why.
Alfred Hitchcock, a
master of suspenseful filmmaking, believed in simplified filmic
techniques to get his point across. His films were rife with
character closeups, as he felt this was the most effective way to
fully convey the emotions of a character. In Psycho (1960), we
find one of Hitchcock's most internally dynamic characters in Norman
Bates, played by the inimitable Anthony Perkins. Psycho is
arguably one of Hitchcock's greatest film achievements for many
reasons (the performance from Perkins being one of them). Most
notably because it begins in the same fashion as any run-of-the-mill
thriller, though its main character, Marion Crane (played by Janet
Leigh) is murdered fifty minutes in. This is the point at which the
audience sits up and realises that this is no ordinary thriller. Just
before the murder, the character of Bates is introduced and a
significant scene takes place that instills a sense of discomfort in
the viewer.
After Marion pulls
into the Bates Motel, getting ready to stay the night before heading
onto Fairvale the next morning, Bates offers to bring her a dinner of
sandwiches and milk and they sit together in the parlour behind the
motel office, talking as Marion eats. Hitchcock chooses several
different angles from which to film Perkins, leaving Leigh with just
the one. After their initial menial talk, Perkins is being shot from
slightly below at a low angle, fitting one of Bates' taxidermy owls,
fixed into a sinister predatory position, into the left of the shot.
At this point, the viewer begins to feel tension.
And this is where
the importance of framing and composition come into play. As Marion
suggests that Bates put his 'mother' (whom we later find out was dead
all along) into the care of a facility, Hitchcock changes his
coverage of Perkins' closeup. We see his face from a semi-side on
position, a tighter version of his closeup from the beginning of the
scene. When setting up a closeup in which a character's gaze is
directed out of shot, it is important to situate them to the side of
a frame, leaving visual space for their gaze to fill, so that when a
cut is made to the object – in this case, Marion – the transition
looks fluid (in which instance, pinpoint precision and a skill for
shot choreography is also needed during the editing process).
Hitchcock begins the shot in this way, positioning Bates at the right
of the frame, looking towards the left where we know Marion is. But
then, Bates centres himself as the subject of his talk turns to
psychology. Marion flinches because Bates has sat up in his chair,
but the viewer cannot quite put their finger on exactly why this shot
is making them feel uneasy now. Bates' centring is compositionally
not quite right. His gaze does not have enough room in the
frame anymore. Bates moves around several times throughout the shot,
but continues to go back to that centring, creating a firm, but
inexplicable feeling of unease that has the viewer feeling suspect
towards Bates. The simultaneous dialogue gives us clues as to
possible reasons why this particular character is not to be trusted
(most notably the preoccupation with his mother) and Hitchcock's
framing and keen eye for shot dynamics confirms the suspicion in our
minds.
In this scene from
Psycho, Hitchcock teaches aspiring filmmakers and viewers
alike how small aspects of filmmaking make all of the difference, and
how Hitchcock's simplified techniques can be so effective. With this
simple cinematic gesture, Hitchcock is able to tell us so much about
Perkins' character and how we, as viewers, are supposed to feel about
him.
ROMANY
REFERENCES
Psycho,
1960 [DVD] Alfred Hitchcock, Universal, Australia.

No comments:
Post a Comment