Cuaron’s Developing Style

A while back I responded to one of Georgie’s posts about Cuaron’s style. I said that his films had a thematic connection, but the visuals seemed to be evolving. Watching Children of Men again (I hadn’t seen the whole thing since January), I noticed that there really does seem to be a style developing. It started in Y Tu Mama Tambien, with the handheld camera and the extremely long takes. Harry Potter is a bit of an exception. It’s definitely an important part of his filmography, but there’s a certain extent to which he can put his style into a movie like that. Lengthy handheld shots just wouldn’t work. That is his one film that is not a clear Alfonso Cuaron movie, because the fact that it is a Harry Potter movie, an installment in a massive franchise, in a way takes precedence, since it doesn’t allow full creative control. I think it is with Children of Men that Cuaron really sets in stone the “Alfonso Cuaron” style. It is apparent right at the beginning. The opening credits and title appear in the same font and style as those in Y Tu Mama Tambien. This reminds me of many of Steven Spielberg’s films from the late 70s-early 80s, which all had a very similar style of opening credits. While I haven’t seen Paris, Je T’aime, I’ve heard that Cuaron’s segment consists of one single shot. He currently is listed as the director of two films scheduled to come out in 2009, so I guess we’ll have to wait until then to see how his style develops.

Alejandro González Iñárritu: Where to go from here?

Out of our four directors, my least favorite is definitely Inarritu. While I don’t think he’s worse than the others (he’s actually probably a better director than Rodriguez), I just don’t enjoy his films nearly as much. The main reason is that the others all make primarily genre films, which are what I’m primarily interested in, while Inarritu has made excellent, but extraordinarily depressing dramas, none of which I’ve felt a great urge to rewatch. This is not to say i don’t like his movies. I do, but don’t count on me watching Amores Perros for fun any time soon. His three films have been described by him as a trilogy, and they are all clearly connected. What I want to see is what he’s going to make next. I can’t find any mention of future projects for him, although I think it’s safe to say he won’t be working with Guillermo Arriaga again. Personally, I’d love to see him branch out and try his hand at a genre film (sort of how some people in the discussion on Wednesday were saying they want to see Del Toro make a non-monster movie). The closest he’s come has been his short film “Powder Keg,” which was part of the BMW short film series The Hire, but I want to see him go further, and really try to tackle something different.

Frank Miller’s Moral Code

Just a quick thought I had while discussing the morality of the characters in Sin City in class last week. I was thinking about the characters in all the stuff he’s written (that which i’ve read, of course), and I noticed that none of the “heroes” in his works are really moral, upstanding people. They have their own moral code, but it’s always somewhat skewed, and not something that most people would, in real life, approve of. For example, there’s obviously all the characters in Sin City, who brutally kill without remorse, yet have “good” intentions behind it. In 300, the main characters are pretty much fascists. What’s most interesting is what he’s done with established characters. His classic graphic novel Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (his best work, in my opinion), takes this character who had been around for 50 years and takes him into much darker territory. Batman has always had a very distinct moral code, something Miller drastically changes. Probably the best example of this comes around the halfway point, when Batman is fighting the leader of the mutant gang in a mud pit. Batman has just about won, and we see a sickening KRAKKKKK (yes, I’m looking at the page as I write this) as he pulls a leg upwards. His internal narration reads, “Something tells me to stop with the leg. I don’t listen to it.” Miller has pushed Batman over a line he, normally, would never cross, gleefully crippling and sometimes killing badguys. Miller has a problem with upstanding, “boy scout” characters, as illustrated in the same book with Superman. He is so idealistic and naive that he has become a tool of the government, and who’s ass Batman must kick. In fact, in every Batman comic Miller writes (aside from Batman: Year One, one of the sole exceptions to the point I’m making), Batman beats the crap out of Superman. Even Daredevil, in Miller’s run on the book, gets pushed to the point where he allows Bullseye to drop seemingly to his death, which, considering that this is a Stan Lee-created superhero, is a pretty bold move. Recently Miller has gone a bit overboard with this idea (see any of his Batman comics from the past 7 years for example). He’s currently directing a film adaptation of the Will Eisner comic, The Spirit, which is much more light-hearted than anything Miller has done. It will be interesting to see if he alters the character to fit his vision of the world, or if he manages to change his own style to suit the character.

Band of Outsiders

I thought of this while watching Y Tu Mama Tambien, but had forgotten about it until now. In some ways it reminded me of Jean-Luc Godard’s Band of Outsiders. Both films are about two men and one woman (although in this one the men are older than the woman), which use a particular genre in interesting ways, Y Tu Mama Tambien being a road movie, while Band of Outsiders is a crime movie. The greatest similarity is the use of narration. Both films feature an omniscient narrator who gives information about the character’s inner thoughts. The way this is done is similar, but not identical. I don’t have Band of Outsiders with me to watch for reference, but I believe that in the famous dance scene, the music drops out when the narration comes in, but the rest of the diegetic sounds remain, while in Y Tu Mama Tambien, all sound drops out. I don’t know how many of these similarities were intentional, but I’d be surprised if Godard’s film wasn’t some sort of influence on Cuaron.

Emmanuelle Lubezki

Along with Janusz Kaminski and Roger Deakins, I think Emmanuelle Lubezki is one of the best directors of photography working in the industry today. I could go on for a long time about how brilliant he is, and how his use of natural light blows my mind with every movie I see by him, but what caught my eye with Y Tu Mama Tambien was the camera work itself. Both this and Children of Men use the same idea with the camera, in which scenes are shot handheld in extremely long takes. This gives the scenes an extremely realistic feel, because instead of cutting all the time, the scenes unfold naturally before our eyes. What’s most interesting about this is the handheld aspect. As we discussed in class, there are many times where the camera moves around the scene, looking at something going on in the next room, or focusing on details in the set. There are many films with a mobile camera such as this, except they almost always use a steadicam or a dolly, giving the camera extremely smooth movements. By making it handheld, the camera shakes a bit as it moves around. This draws attention to the fact that it is indeed a camera being held by a person, instead of an omniscient eye. This is extremely apparent in Children of Men during the astounding 8-minute shot near the climax (which is pretty much the most amazing piece of filmmaking I’ve seen in years), in which some blood splatters on the lens of the camera. It is almost as if the camera is itself another character (or it embodies the director, himself becoming a character), unseen by the other characters but observing everything that goes on and choosing what to look at.

Del Toro’s Style

Despite still not having seen Mimic or the Devil’s Backbone, I’m a pretty big fan of Guillermo Del Toro. While I was watching Cronos, I found it interesting seeing prominent aspects of his style already emerging. This really began with the credits, which, while not really a stylistic thing, showed how far back he’s been collaborating with the same people. Guillermo Navarro, his DP who won an Oscar for Pan’s Labyrinth, was working with him thirteen years earlier. Interestingly, he also worked with Rodriguez on Desperado and Spy Kids. Of course, this also marked Del Toro’s first collaboration with Ron Perlman, who would appear again in Blade II, as well as in the title role in Hellboy (and it’s sequel, currently filming). Now, as far as the actual style goes, one of the first things that jumped out to me was in some nighttime shots of the city, there would be heavy shadows, but the light would have a strong yellow hue. This was extremely apparent in both Blade II and Hellboy, in which every single nighttime city scene was bathed in strong yellows. Another thing I found interesting was that when Jesus peeled off his skin, he bore a strong resemblance to the Reapers in Blade II, which are, of course, mutated super vampires. Of course, one huge aspect that can’t be overlooked is the large amount of sharp objects piercing skin. The scene in which the man at the funeral home is sewing up Jesus’ lip echoes the scene in Pan’s Labyrinth in which (SPOILER ALERT!!!!!) Captain Vidal sews up his face. Del Toro also appears to have a fascination with insects. The gold item that grants immortality in Cronos is made to look like a scarab. His follow-up film, Mimic, is about giant insects. The giant mouths of the Reapers in Blade II, at least in my opinion, are reminiscent of insects. Finally, insects appear frequently in Pan’s Labyrinth, especially toward the beginning of the film.

Robert Rodriguez

I read Rodriguez’s book, Rebel Without a Crew, in June of 2005. Since then, it has been probably the greatest influence on my filmmaking. I’ve been making movies since about 2002, and this past summer I made my second feature-length film. Whenever I make a movie, I stick with the main piece of advice that Rodriguez gives in the 10-Minute Film School section at the back of the book: “Refuse to spend money. Find creative ways to avoid spending anything.” While I paraphrased a bit, the main point is still there. It’s easier for me than it was for him, because I have the luxury of using digital video, a much cheaper format that Rodriguez has embraced.  This summer I even tried to get a wheelchair to use as a dolly, like he did, but when I couldn’t get ahold of one for less than $150, I scrapped the idea, deciding to go handheld instead. Like Rodriguez, I turn my limitations into an aesthetic. I’ve noticed that I seem to operate in a similar way to him during production. We were discussing in class the other day how he seems to need to control every aspect of the production. Im the same exact way. I write, direct, produce, edit, film, and do the sound all by myself. Perhaps like him I’m a bit of a control freak, but that’s the great thing about cinema. You create a whole world where everything that happens, you can control. I imagine that’s a big part of the appeal to Rdoriguez and myself. Looking back on this book now, it’s clear that of all directors working today, he’s the one that has inspired me the most.

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