Don't Breathe Review

Viewing Don’t Breathe by Fede Alvarez was an intense experience. My partner and I suffered tension and anxiety, with strong grips almost the entire time. It’s been a while since I’ve been engaged in this way at the theater. It reminded me how I felt when my parents took me to see War of the Worlds (2005). Growing up it was a rarity to be taken to movies outside the PG rating, and to see films above that rating was well researched before going – violence/action and sci-fi were pretty much a good-to-go. Don’t Breathe doesn’t have giant alien machines destroying the world and capturing anyone in their path, but it is about an hour’s worth of the trapped-in-the-house sequence of that film, with great immersive tension; you feel as if you’re inside the house with the characters. When they hide or quickly dodge, the very good and clever filmmaking allows the viewer to feel as if they are also hiding and dodging with them while not from the use of the handheld or shaky cam style.

Funny Only When It Ends: Silicon Valley, “Binding Arbitration” (S2: E9)

In Roger Ebert’s review of This Is Spinal Tap, he explains how the Stonehenge gag is funny. The audience knows the size of the Stonehenge prior to the band. We then laugh to their reaction of the very undersized object. The order of the shots brings about this desired effect. Now, in the most recent episode of Silicon Valley, “Binding Arbitration”, the primary gag ends only when the credits roll. While this gag isn’t exact as the one in Spinal Tap—i.e in how it’s presented by the editing—I was still reminded of it. The episode felt, in the same spirit, patient with its humor. No concern for quick and cheap laughs, but clever.

Based on the incredible and inspiring true story . . . so what?

Charles: What if you interviewed your mom about what her dreams were about, and then you hired actors to act them out? . . .  that might show your thesis more clearly. 

Amy: I mean it might, but then it wouldn't be a documentary. 

Charles: How would it not be a documentary? It's still about your mother. 

-her (2013)

What's unique about film and Terrence Malick's Response

Film has built this reputation of outputting visual stories tagged with an emphasis on recorded performances. Novels and comics are the inspirations of the many popular films, as people, understandably, want to see their imaginations realized on the silver screen. But when we consider the distinguishing mark of film from other art mediums, unfortunately it is neither screenplays/stories nor acting. Storytelling permeates itself through many mediums, while the art of acting was birthed long before film in theatre.

Nöel Carroll notes that early philosophers did not view film as an art, but a mere recording device for the true art of acting. The way a vinyl record is not art, but the music recorded on it, likewise with film, a series of moving photographs is not art but the performance it displays. It wasn’t until noticing film’s specific technical devices that have allowed people to argue for film as an art form. Cuts and splices, dissolves, superimposition, and close-ups are a few examples that give film its artistic intention. They’re what distinguish film, from the haunting that is theatre. And unlike theatre, these devices take away from actors.

Terrence Malick, the subject at hand, leaves to literature what belongs to literature and leaves to theatre what belongs to theatre, and makes explicit what is unique about film: He conveys ideas with careful consideration in his cinematic language. This can be seen by how he manipulates film techniques, takes importance away from actors and the script, and how he utilizes lyrical narration to enhance the pictures. Good writing and good acting are art forms in their own right, but as far as film’s place in art they’re the cherry on top. Nevertheless, so it goes with the flock and some critics, the normality of movie-going has taken shape in acting and storytelling, without which a film has no legs to walk.

The Babadook Review

The Babadook (the debut feature written and directed by Jennifer Kent) is a great film. It uses an overarching metaphor and hyperbole to communicate the true horror: the devastating loss of a loved one, and the possibly more devastating state of having to cope with the event. The metaphor and hyperbole identify a demonic/monstrous/evil and oppressive spirit (the Babadook).

The Knick, the 180-degree rule and forms of continuity

In a recent episode of The Knick, “Working Late a lot,” there is a scene where Dr. Levi Zinberg (Michael Nathanson) is giving a presentation on a new medical device. While there are shots of Dr. Zinberg, there aren’t as many as there typically would be of a speaking character. The focus is on Dr. John Thackery (Clive Owen), essentially moving his head from Dr. Zinberg, to Zinberg’s presentation board, to the audience, as he sits away from the majority. Immediately, this sequence stood out to me, as it should have for many viewers. The sequence takes importance away from Dr. Zinberg and gives it to Dr. Thackery (which is right, and I will say why shortly), but this isn’t the only reason why such a sequence stands out. While there might be more, like the amount of fast cuts (about 2 seconds each) in the sequence, I will draw attention to only one, i.e. the breaking of the sacred 180-degree rule.