Scott: Nights of Catan

Four college students sit in a circle on the floor around a board game called Catan.  A talking CPR practice torso occupies one spot around the board. Their movements are slow and mechanical, each taking his or her turn without a beat.  Pet rats are crawling up and down shoulders unnoticed. This group has mastered casual conversation to the point where the line between facetiousness and sincerity is blurred.

MARIA:  (in her usual weasely voice) So, I have an announcement to make.

BEN:  You’re pregnant.

FLO:  You rolled a seven and you’re steeling my wheat.

MARIA:  I’m in love.

As expected, no reaction.

HALLI:  Who’s the lucky boy?

MARIA:  Actually it’s a lucky girl and it is me.  I am actually in love with my own self.

HALLI:  In actuality?

MARIA:  Yes.

FLO: Well… how can you be sure it’s true love?

CUT TO close up of MARIA entranced by the reflection of her eyes in the bathroom mirror as she brushes her teeth. Her hand drops, she moves in, closes her eyes and kisses, leaving toothpaste smudges on the glass.

CUT BACK TO Group.

MARIA: I can just feel it inside of me.

FLO: What color is it?

MARIA: (tries to feel real hard) Mauve.

FLO nods her head as if giving her approval.

This whole time all four have not let their eyes off the game nor stopped placing pieces and flipping cards methodically.

BEN: (as he takes a rat from his shoulder and places it on the CPR dummy) So Jesse was trying to convince me that cloudy days are actually hotter because the clouds trap in heat waves.

FLO: (overlapping with HALLI) That’s true, ya know.

HALLI: (overlapping with FLO) Oh, sorry, you can’t put Voldomort on the dummy, he doesn’t like the texture.

MARIA: He has a name, you know.

HALLI: Sorry, you can’t put Voldomort on Ichabod. They’re not even from the same fictitious realm.

BEN: He likes it and besides…I just won!

MARIA: (taking a urinating Voldomort off of Ichabod) And we have pee!

Shot of the newly soiled Ichabod (the CPR dummy).

CUT TO MARIA in the office of a kids camp director giving a demonstration of the CPR dummy. She speaks with a much more mature-sounding voice, accompanied by expressive eyebrow movements and snort-laden laughter. Unbeknownst to the director, a middle-aged gentle-looking woman, the slightest fluctuation in MARIA’s enthusiasm, normally common in saleswomen, represents a conscious effort to satirize the role is now forced to play.

MARIA: And of course this guy is completely water-proof. Or girl, excuse me.

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Scott: Daniels Depicted

Sorry about this.  Academic papers can even drain the life out of people as rich and creamy as the Daniels we so adore.  But here it is.

Daniels Depicted

 

Although Daniel Smith and Daniel Johnston never worked together, their artistic bodies of work bare a striking resemblance.  Neither of them formally trained in music or art, both Daniels’ work may be described as having a raw, homemade quality well outside the mainstream.  These similar styles, however, are portrayed in quite different ways in the documentaries Danielson: a Family Movie and The Devil and Daniel Johnston, directed by J.L. Aronson and Jeff Feuerzeig respectively.  While Aronson’s style seeks to mirror that of the artist being documented, Feuerzeig’s style does not.  By comparing these differing interpretations of similar subjects, we can gain a better understanding of the subjective nature of seeing one artist through the eyes of another.

First, a brief introduction of our Daniels: 

Encouraged by his parents from a young age, Daniel Smith grew up producing a wide variety of art, from three-dimensional quilt-cars to abstract paintings to psychedelic rock music.  Following his conversion to Christianity in college, Smith started performing under the moniker Danielson, expressing his newly-discovered identity as a son of God.  To achieve a more full sound, Smith enlisted the help of his four siblings, the youngest of whom was only twelve at the time.  When asked to play bass for the new project Daniel’s best friend Chris responded “But I don’t play bass,” to which Daniel replied “That’s okay.”  And thus the Danielson Famile was born; an experimental gospel band with limited musical skills, a lead singer who sounded like a dying cat, and a big heart (which they wore in patch-form on their sleeves).  Estranged from the Christian music scene because of their unique style often labeled eccentric, the band found a niche in the indie rock community.  As each member got married, the “famile” grew to nine members, promptly assimilating each new spouse into the entourage.  The arrival of children led to the diffusion of the band leaving its founding member to continue his solo career.  Smith now tours as “Brother Daniel”, performing in a homemade tree costume and making records in his parents’ basement.

Equally intriguing is the life of singer/songwriter/painter Daniel Johnston.  Raised in a devout Christian home, religion also plays an unlikely role in much of Johnston’s creations.  Although admittedly not skilled at playing any instrument or singing, Johnston got by on pure originality.  Dramatically affected by a teenage romance and a drug-induced mental breakdown, Johnston’s music is described by his fans as oozing with raw emotion.  His later work marks a major deviation in content as his mental illness sparks an obsession with the Devil whom Johnston suspects of conspiring against him.  A recent partial recovery sees him back on tour to an increasingly adoring fan base in art exhibits and concert venues across the globe.                        

The first shot is very important in establishing the tone of a film.  Danielson:  a Family Movie begins with a quite real-looking view of earth from space.  As we move in closer, the pixels of the image become more noticeable.  All illusion of reality is interrupted when sloppily-drawn cartoon clouds cross the screen followed by a closer aerial view, obviously taken from Google Earth.  Not only does this point to the out-of-this world nature of Smith’s art, but the shoddy, seemingly homemade execution of this concept immediately puts the audience in a world where the common conceptions of artistic beauty are challenged.

The opening shot of The Devil and Daniel Johnston shows a home video Johnston made with a Super 8 camera in 1985 in which he greets the camera, introducing himself as “the ghost of Daniel Johnston” and promising to reveal information about “the other world.”  Presumably mere jest to the young Johnston, the ominous music that follows indicates the prophetic implications of his statement just as a quote smoothly appears on the black screen:  “I believe in God and I believe in the devil.  There is certainly a devil and he knows my name.”  Although the quality of the home video can be compared to the raw nature of Johnston’s art (most of his recordings were done on cassette tapes in his living room), its immediate juxtaposition with the film’s orchestrated soundtrack draws the audience back into a more detached perspective, like a witness to some Shakespearian tragedy.  Unlike Danielson in which the audience is challenged to enter the mindset of the artist being portrayed, this film immediately sets up its subject for scrupulous examination.

Aronson’s interviewing technique greatly influences the exposition of the characters in Danielson: a Family Movie.  Most often, clips from interviews done by other journalists are used.  When direct questioning is required, rather than sitting his subjects down and going through a list of crafted queries, Aronson insights a conversation by having a third party, often a member of the band, casually ask an open-ended question, resulting in a very informal response in which the interviewer and interviewee often reminisce together.  In the few instances when the interview is conducted from behind the camera, it is hand-held, allowing the subject to move around freely as if giving a tour.  These unobtrusive methods give the film a laid-back, intimate quality in which all involved appear to be acting comfortably in their natural environments.  This same technique can also be seen in Smith’s own creative process, about which he states in the film 

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            In contrast, The Devil and Daniel Johnston features many formal interviews in locations clearly selected to highlight a certain aspect of the narrative.  One interview, in which the subject is questioned about his connection to an incident involving drug abuse, is conducted while the interviewee is having his teeth drilled in a dental chair to emphasize the severity of the event being discussed.  Although this style of interview may at times seem contrived, it is useful in this film for constructing a comprehensive narrative.  Feuerzeig’s sometimes aggressive questioning elicits a number of intensely moving responses.  This rings true to the emotional urgency of Johnston’s music, but lacks its spontaneity.      

The pure nature of Smith’s music is also reflected in the lighting of Danielson: a Family Movie.  Just as Smith would not interfere with the innate beauty of his songs with excessive studio effects, Aronson chose to use no special lighting.  At times this makes for some poor quality shots but over all it contributes to the film’s authentic feel.

            Feuerzeig, on the other hand, uses extensive special lighting to influence the mood of many of the interviews and reenactments.  The soft lighting used on the parents and close friends of Johnston serves to legitimize their observations while Johnston himself, who is only interviewed directly for less than a minute, is most often seen in gritty stock footage with poor lighting.  Several key events are reenacted using heavily saturated colors which give them a profoundly dramatic look.  All these techniques are in stark contrast to Johnston’s own artistic instincts which are even more raw and unrefined than Smith’s.

            A wide variety of techniques are used in Danielson: a Family Movie to portray events that could not be captured on film.  Smith’s college years are represented in the form of a simple cartoon with jerky movements and awkward figures that could easily have been drawn by a child.  Just a few minutes later, Smith’s friend Chris recalls his inception into the band and again animation is used but by a different artist equally lacking in ability.  These two sequences are so similar in tone and functionality that the slight difference in the drawings may be jarring to an audience who is used to unifying visual themes.  It seems likely that this could have arisen from each sequence being put under the artistic control of the person whose story it was telling.  This meshing of different artistic voices, however unorganized, is in perfect harmony with the frenzied, cumulative atmosphere of a Danielson Famile concert.

            The gaps in the story of Daniel Johnston are filled by two kinds of reenactment.  Several key episodes are portrayed with a single shot of an object, reproduced so as to appear original in a location representing that in which the action occurred.  Often these shots are accompanied by the voice-over of an interviewee telling his or her version of what happened.  These Errol Morris-esque moments, which never utilize actors, give the film the feel of an investigation during which multiple crime scenes are explored.  The other method of reenactment used several times in the film is a first person point-of-view in which the camera lens substitutes for Johnston as we wield our way through the empty settings of his past.  No such hauntingly overt dramatizations can be found in Johnston’s straight-forward approach to his craft.       

The structure of Danielson: a Family Movie can be quite disorienting.  During the first half of the film, the audience is guided through Smith’s story by four separate narrators.  Each introduces themselves in a voice-over and then takes their turn giving a summary of how things happened from their perspective.  When the initial exposition is complete, the audience is presumably caught up to the “present” (in the story-line) and then follows along with Smith for the remainder of the film.  About three-fourths of the way through, however, the voice of one of the original narrators is heard again, leaving the audience to wonder from whose perspective the events are being unfolded.  Smith’s own music is similarly disorganized in structure, often stopping and starting abruptly and even randomly inviting the audience to sing a verse of The First Noel.  This quirky style, however never seems to border on disorientation to the extent the film does.

The Devil and Daniel Johnston is structured in a manner that could be described as traditional.  Immediately following the first shot of a young, skinny Johnston in 1985, the film jumps to the older, obese Johnston playing in front of thousands at a concert twenty years later.  This instantly sets the parameters of the film’s dramatic action.  From that point on all the events portrayed and discussed in interviews are in more-or-less sequential order with some liberties taken to group together similar sub-plotlines.  Johnston’s music, in contrast, is void of this sense of progression in time, often reverting back to old themes such as the lost love of his teenage years about which he wrote music well into his forties.     

While documentary may be considered the most objective category of film, the wide range of possibilities a director has to choose from inevitably elicits an interpretation that can profoundly affect the audience’s reaction to its content.  While all documentary subjects are complex, the task of portraying an artist is particularly delicate.  Aronson and Feuerzeig’s approaches to these two similar artists have profoundly different results.  The unconventional, improvised quality of Danielson: a Family Movie (or, Make a Joyful Noise Here) allows the audience to get better acquainted with Daniel Smith, but makes it likely to only gain the affections of those audience members who are in tune with his creative vision.  Feuerzeig’s accomplishment with The Devil and Daniel Johnston is in the conversion of the inaccessible Johnston into a form that, because of its detached, pointed and systematic examination, could be found intriguing to a larger audience, even if they don’t identify with his artistry.

Scott: Show and Tell: Seven Reasons by Dave

I’ve spent the better part of the morning pondering the subject and I can only think of seven reasons to kill you.  I promised myself I wouldn’t do it unless I could get at least ten.  No one is flawless, I know that.  I’m certainly not flawless.  You’re certainly not flawless.  I can think of seven reason that justify ending your existence.  Seven isn’t enough though.  There’s certainly a lot more than seven or even ten reasons to let you live but in this case that doesn’t matter.  You don’t let someone out of jail just because there’s a lot f laws they haven’t broken.  They don’t even wait until you’ve broken ten laws to put you away.  Frankly, I think I’m being generous.  People have been killed for a lot less.  Who know how many billions of people over the years have been killed for simply being from the wrong country, or the wrong race, or supported the wrong dictator.  One reason each.  Billions of them.  Now I’m sure a lot of those people deserved to die just as much as you do but it doesn’t count because they weren’t killed for all those reasons.  They were killed for just being Jews, Germans, Indians, or nationalist.  It would certainly be unjust to kill you for only a single reason.  I have seven.  Seven really good reasons.  But I still need ten.  That was the rule I made and I’m going to keep it.

            I could get more specific but it would feel like I was cheating.  You lied to your parents about us for a full year.  You also lied to a lot of your friends.  Then you told me that they all knew and were okay with it which was a lie.  You told me your brothers were protective so I shouldn’t be too affectionate around your family.  You wouldn’t let me put my arms around you at concerts because you said you liked to dance.  You told me you didn’t talk to a lot of your friends from high school to avoid them ever meeting me.  You lied almost daily for fourteen months about our relationship.  You probably told every single person you know at least one lie about us.  The official story you’re telling your family now is that we’re casually seeing each other but you’re still dating other people.  You’ve also told me several times that you want to spend the rest of your life with me.  I’m still sketchy on whether or not this is a lie or it just makes everything you tell everyone else more of a lie.  There’s at least ten very blatant and brutal lies tangled up I this mess but I still only count the situation as one reason to kill you.  It wouldn’t be fair to kill you over one relationship.  Who knows, maybe you’re an excellent girlfriend and a fantastic potential wife but you just really screwed it up with me.  One botched romance is hardly justification for mortal termination, no matter how many lies it spawned.

            No, if I’m going to kill you it’s going to be honestly.  No stretching the terms to match the definitions.  I’m also not going to use any reasons that are universally applicable.  None of this, “I’m going to kill you because you’re going to die someday anyway.”  That’s stupid.  Everyone is going to die.  That’s not a decent reason to kill anyone.

            I know if I think about this too hard I’ll just invent the other three reasons just to get on with it.  And that’s just not right.  If any man thinks hard enough about any subject he can make up an answer and convince himself it’s true.  Ask any man who claims to believe in a god.  They won’t agree with me but they’ll prove my point.  I don’t want to do that.  I mean, the thought has occurred to me that perhaps you don’t actually deserve to die.  Or maybe you do but I shouldn’t be the one who does it.  Perhaps I don’t have ten reasons but someone else does.  If you shouldn’t die or if I shouldn’t kill you I’d feel terrible if I went ahead and did it anyway and then realized afterwards that I shouldn’t have.  No one needs more regrets.

            So I’ll keep my list and if I think of three more reasons I let you know.  However, I did decide that five reasons would be enough to leave you and never speak to you again.  Because you’ll never see my list or even know that it’s been written you won’t know exactly why I won’t be there when you get home from work.  I’m not sure if you’ll initially realize your own guilt in this matter but as you look around for a shoulder to cry on or someone to comfort you after your heartbreak I’m sure it will start to sink in that you have no true friends, an unloving family, no trusting co-workers, and no neighbors that will even tolerate you.  And, hopefully, you’ll realize you have no one to blame but yourself.

            Also, although reason number four alone isn’t enough to condemn you, it is atrocious enough that I’m going to clean out the fridge on my way out.  Probably the ice chest too.  People like you don’t deserve pork chops.

Scott: Henry

 

So I was walking home from work today and this stray business man jutted his head out from the bushes just a few yards (or “meters” for all you foreigners) behind me.  Hearing the russle, I turned my head just in time to see a well-groomed head pull out of sight.  I had a half-eaten ham and cheese sandwich  I didn’t plan on finishing so I put it on the ground in front of the bush and waited to see what would happen.  Nothing.  I sensed an aura of shyness coming from the bush so I started walking away.  Sure enough, another russle, followed by a definite munching sound.  And then footsteps.  I had no more munchies on my person but he stayed on my heal the whole way home without enticement.  His sporadic movements, never infringing on my personal space, gave him an almost human quality – with the timidity and longing of a child.  I must admit by the time I reached my apartment I felt an almost palpable connection to him.  Or was it to the thought of being needed?

I named him Henry.  There are no pets allowed in my building but he is potty-trained and I am moving soon so I don’t see the harm in keeping him.  Plus, maybe he can help me with my math homework.

The Painted Veil

If these are cop outs, this is the last time until fall I’ll be able to do it. So oh well. Here is my finished essay on, The Painted Veil.

Set in the countryside of rural 1920s China, The Painted Veil follows the story of estranged married couple, Kitty and Walter Fane. After uncovering his wife’s infidelity, Walter decides to drag Kitty to a tiny Chinese village at the heart of an ongoing cholera epidemic to exact his revenge. Intending at first only to punish his wife, Walter soon finds himself engrossed in his work as a bacteriologist and the only living doctor in the village. As he struggles to save this decaying community from becoming completely swallowed up in disease, his relationship with Kitty also finds rescue. As together they struggle under the harshest of circumstances they both gradually come to see each other in a different light, and eventually find it in themselves to forgive.

Confusing, at first, is the origin of the title of the film-which on the surface seems to have nothing to do with the story. Although never mentioned explicitly in the movie, the phrase “the painted veil” comes from a sonnet by Percy Shelley. In the first part of the sonnet it reads, “Lift not the painted veil which those who live call life.” Although the reference is subtle, further consideration of its origin reveals one of the most powerful themes in the film. The painted veil spoken of here represents the illusions we sometimes project onto life. A painting is something that is created. Unlike a photograph, which is more bound to reality, a painting is subject entirely to the artist’s personal interpretations and constructions. Likewise, a veil is an article of clothing that is placed over the face and eyes to conceal or obscure. Thus, a painted veil represents the subjective realities or illusions through which we sometimes view the world. A major theme in this movie is moving past these unhealthy illusions, tearing away the metaphorical veil, and seeing people and things for who or what they really are. This theme is effectively depicted through the acting, sound and music, and the structure of the linear narrative in the film.

Brilliantly cast, with Edward Norton and Naomi Watts filling the title roles, the acting in this movie helps to illustrate the overall theme. From the very beginning of the movie Norton (as Walter) and Watts (as Kitty) create a powerful dynamic. The film opens with an oddly silent frame. Kitty and Walter stand stark and still against the lush green Chinese landscape. Kitty, in the foreground, taps her feet idly in the mud and sighs. Walter, in the background, reads a book and seems to be flippantly apathetic to her plight. No words are spoken during this brief scene, but the stony expressions and very visual body language of the actors translates immediately into a palpable tension. Clearly this is a couple that is uncomfortably estranged.

Immediately after this opening sequence the film launches into a series of flashbacks, which crisply unveil the events that have lead to this sad state of affairs.  One scene depicts the posh London party where Walter first encounters Kitty. He notices her across the crowded dance-floor as she steps carefully down a majestic staircase. Immediately his eyes lock on her and he stares fixedly, clearly taken with her stunning beauty and grace. Kitty, on the other hand, moves through the crowded room with a look of boredom and even disgust on her face. She stops frequently to flash her guests strained yet radiant smiles and exchange short social pleasantries with them, but as soon as she turns away her expression is again one of discontent. Watt’s does an excellent job of portraying Kitty as a well-mannered creature of high London society. Her performance is not over-the-top, yet it is in these subtle nuances that the intricacies of Kitty’s character really come out.  Kitty is someone who can assume the proper conduct and tone she needs to at will, but this is only a way of veiling her inner self from others. Thus, from the very beginning Watt’s acting helps to establish a theme of social illusion.

Walter, as well, is a character that behaves based on his biased constructions of the world around him. Edward Norton is able to evoke this complex character very well. A rigidly formal, shy, bookish bacteriologist-Walter is completely taken with Kitty despite the fact that her playful, shallow, light-hearted mannerisms are in direct contrast with his serious stiffness. As Walter, Norton very convincingly produces the image of someone who is fiercely intelligent with noble desires and a systematic mind for science, while still being very socially awkward and rather emotionally unintelligent. He has a hard time seeing and accepting the reality that human beings are endlessly more complex and less predictable than the microbes he studies. Norton depicts these characteristics physically, creating a stiff sort of posture for Walter, and an awkward squeamish stance when interacting with others (fumbling over his words, avoiding eye-contact, etc.).

In the first part of the movie, before he discovers that she is having an affair, Walter seems charmed and even lightly humored by Kitty’s frivolous ways. In one exchange she asks him what exactly it is that he does. He responds, “I’m a bacteriologist.” Kitty, clearly unimpressed, responds with, “sounds fascinating.” Walter looks amused, even endeared with her, “You have no idea what that is, do you?” he asks, before launching into a lengthy explanation of his work.

Walter is rigid and formal with Kitty, even after they are married (knocking before entering the bedroom, carefully slipping off his shoes and shutting the light before going to bed with her)-but he is very clearly devoted to her, always desperately trying to ensure her comfort and well-being. He never seems to take her seriously, however. He never feigns interest at what he considers to be idle chatter, and from the very beginning assumes that she is nothing more than a spoiled lady with an ear for gossip and a penchant for silly games. He still loves her though, and later he will bitterly hate himself for it (“Do you absolutely despise me?”, Kitty asks Walter later on. “No, I despise myself for allowing myself to love you once.”) After Walter discovers the affair, he maintains his image of Kitty as shallow and selfish, only now he does not seem quite so endeared by this. He is disgusted by her, and desires to punish her for her infidelity.

Kitty, obviously, has the same problem in her relationship with Walter. Upon their first introduction she quickly pigeonholes him as a rigid bore-someone who is stiff, emotionless and devoid of any passion. After the discovery of her affair, she also begins to see him as cruel and vengeful because of his punishing ways. As the film progresses, however, both Kitty and Walter are slowly able to overcome their respective illusions of one another. It is in the small village of Mei-Tan-Fu that they, for the first time, must face each other and themselves, stripped of all the veils and masks that so often obscure true character. They are only drawn out of this self-centered perception as they gain an increased empathy for others.

What is at first only an attempt to punish his unfaithful wife turns into a true mission of compassion for Walter. He throws himself into his work, at first, to forget his misery over his failed marriage. This quickly transfers into a genuine effort to save the poor villagers from even further suffering and despair.

As for Kitty, she begins her volunteer work with the French nuns at a local orphanage, only in an effort to alleviate her intense feelings of boredom and desolation. She simply wants to distract herself by keeping occupied. Soon though, she begins to see beyond herself and recognizes for the first time the agony and ugliness of true poverty, suffering and death. It is also here that she becomes aware, for the first time, of her husband’s good reputation. This allows her to see him, not from the perspective of the harsh and critical society from which they came, but through the lens of those he is helping. The things that were once so vexing to her-his lack of social grace, his rigidity and disinterest in the light entertainment she so adored-now seem unimportant next to his noble concern for the villagers.

Both Watts and Norton, enact this shift in perspective fluidly and with great style. They clearly show in their acting the way illusions can be shattered, and how this affects our interactions with one another. When Kitty learns that Walter has a special love for the babies at the orphanage, Watt’s shows us that she is visually stunned. Her mouth is held slightly open, and her eyes look searchingly. She walks home from the orphanage in a daze. Clearly this small comment has chipped away at her unsympathetic judgments of her husband and allows her to see him in a more sympathetic light.

Aside from the acting, the music and sound also does a great job of bolstering the theme. There were a few scenes, specifically, where the sound design played an important part in getting across the proper mood and message. In the first scene, described briefly above, it is the startling silence that so effectively emphasizes the distance between the two characters. This is in contrast to the high and frenzied-sounding piano theme that accompanies the opening credits. This type of silence is used in other scenes to emphasize the weightiness of their circumstances. The couple’s silent meals feel empty and awkward, as only the hollow sound of clanking silverware can be hard atop a low and brooding soundtrack. This highlights the both characters’ inability to compromise or forgive one another for their trespasses.

In another scene after arriving in the village, there is a stark quiet as the two exchange a few words about what it is like to die from cholera (“very painful, but it is relatively quick”). This ominous line is accompanied only by the distant thumping of the”death drums” used by the villagers to ward off evil spirits. These echo from across the river and Kitty turns and looks horrorstruck as she listens to the fearsome clanking and chanting. The reality and the horror of death is dawning on her for the first time, and all at-once the illusion of her comfortable high-society life, free from poverty and pain, begins to deteriorate. The drums only get louder as she lies in a bed surrounded by mosquito netting, eyes wide open, and tears slipping down her cheeks. This only accentuates her fear and the dawning that, for her, this might be a journey of no return.

Earlier in the film a similar sound effect is used to depict Kitty’s despair at her shattered illusion of Charlie (the man she had an affair with). While returning from a failed attempt to get him to divorce his wife and marry her, Kitty rides back to her house on a sedan chair. All kinds of conflict is unfolding behind her, as much of the film takes place against the backdrop of Chinese nationalist hostility. However nothing can be heard but a soft and ominous ringing and a deep drum. All of the street noises are blocked out, and Kitty’s emotional distress at the rejection of her lover is accentuated.

One last scene uses music in a very powerful way, to depict a pivotal moment when the metaphorical veils obscuring both character’s are finally being torn away. In this scene Kitty plays a song on the piano for the orphans. She is unaware that Walter, who happened to be walking by, has paused in the doorway and is watching her. He stands mesmerized, as he watches his wife clank out this soft piano ballad for the children. It is clear that this is the moment in which the deep negativity he has harbored for his wife ever since the affair, begins to slip away. The song itself is a powerful allusion to the past. It is more-or-less the same song that was playing when walter saw Kitty for the first time at the dinner party. Hearing it again, helps him to rediscover past emotions. At the party, this song sounded posh and polished against the backdrop of glitzy wine glasses and evening dresses. Now it sounds rough and clanky, hammered out on the old out-of-tune orphanage piano. The music draws a clear parallel to the day he fell in love, but now he hears the song with new ears. It sounds grittier, more real. The stripped-down, imperfect quality of it probably seems even more enchanting to Mr. Fane than did the polished song of the past. Just as the gritty, real, stripped-down version of Kitty he now sees before him is much more appealing than the classy, polished Kitty of the past. The veil has finally been torn away, and he sees her in a new light.

The last way this movie depicts its theme is through its narrative structure. Although, it is not depicted in a purely linear fashion (it starts somewhere near the middle of the story, and flashbacks are used to fill in vital past information)-the movie certainly grapples with lots of the overarching issues typical of a linear narrative. In The Painted Veil definitely depicts several of the universal human needs and their masquerading wants. Kitty needs to be loved, but in her affair with Charlie she succumbs to mere feelings of passion and lust. Walter, feeling injured by her infidelity, feels the need for justice but instead reacts based on a selfish want for revenge that cankers his soul. This film definitely focused on the battle of the ego. Each character had difficulty submitting their ego (which also can be seen as their individual “painted veils”) and because of this they both suffered much. In the end, however, this story is about redemption. It closes with the final sacrifice of the ego for something better and higher, even when it did not promise personal gain. Finally stricken down by cholera, Walter lies on his deathbed. Kitty sits by his side, tenderly nursing him. “I’m sorry, please forgive me,” he repeatedly pleas. “There is nothing to be forgiven,” Kitty insists. They have finally transcended their selfish views and reached a point where they can find peace in forgiveness.

Scott: Zaan

Despite the affectionate nickname that had been bestowed upon her, Zaan didn’t feel like a “Young Bride.” Apart from her age and the fact that she was shortly to be wed, Zaan didn’t feel like anything that resembled young or bride-like.

Militi, Zaan’s future sister-in-law and favorite member of the tribe, was put in charge of the ears. It was very important the ears be decorated exactly right, lest the union-to-be prove unfruitful. The trick was not to be too extravagant nor too plain. Militi, as expected, did a splendid job; deftly ordering around Mela and Farci who were to be Zaan’s step children. They crushed the blood-colored cherry stone with their feet and mixed it with water for paint. Yellow was not a hard color to come by but it took a good four moons of preparation to save up enough bug berries to yield that perfect night-blue.

The pattern was Zaan’s idea; the wings of a magical creature she had seen once as a young calf in a far away land. It was extremely brave considering its ridiculously small size; landing right on the tip of her trunk without so much as a buzz or a chirp. Zaan’s eyes were small enough then to focus on its delicate body, an event that for some reason struck her as a privilege. Her adult-eyes, now a good half-a-tusk farther apart, meant that her point of focus was now too far away to allow her reentry into this miniature world. Adulthood marked not only an anatomical transformation, but a shift into another dimension where only normal-sized things matter.

The ceremony was simple and beautiful. Trunks sprayed arches of water that framed the newly weds. Zaan blinked her dotted ears at the men who were probably making crude remarks about their size. They had no idea what they were looking at.

And this is where it went downhill…

Here is part of my first draft of my film analysis paper. This part was just my summary of the movie (80% of which I will end up cutting out). I am in the process of editing it, and turning it into a worthwhile piece of writing right now…

Note, however, the ingenious alliteration:

Despite their apparent differences in demeanor and interest, Walter really was utterly in love with and devoted to Kitty. Teeming with spite he makes a rather weighty proposition. He informs Kitty that she must either accompany him on his journey to a small Chinese village at the heart of the ongoing cholera epidemic, or he will shamefully divorce her on the grounds of her infidelity. He will list Charlie Townsend as her lover. Kitty is horrified, and insists that dragging her, a delicate young dignitary, to this dangerous war zone of disease is insanity and completely barbarous of him. She insists that Charlie, her gallant lover, will not allow for it. Walter is humored by this notion and tells Kitty that if Charlie agrees to divorce his wife and marry her, that he will let Kitty divorce him quietly. Much to Kitty’s dismay, Charlie is nothing more than a wily wanton womanizer, who whittles away her sense of worth with his wildly wicked ways. He cares no more for her than a bear cares for old honey, or than he cares for the scum infesting Walter’s cholera-ridden water samples. He agrees to no such proposal, benefiting too much from his alliance with his wife Dorothy. Kitty, feeling deeply downtrodden by his cruel rejection, decides to depart from Shanghai and dejectedly accompanies Walter into the depths of destruction and ultimate death.

Scott: Show and Tell: Eaves Dropping

I LOVE listening in on other people’s conversations!  Here’s a real little scene I witnessed just 30 minutes ago at the Heritage Center:

GIRL:  (teary-eyed, taking slow, backward steps away from GUY)  Goodbye!  (She turns and runs away sobbing)

GUY just sits there staring into space in a state of shock as tears start to well up.  Five minutes go by and he doesn’t move an inch.

GIRL returns, and embraces GUY.  They both laugh/cry while gazing in each others’ eyes.

GIRL:  I’m sorry.

They kiss.  GIRL backs up.

GIRL:  Do I really look like I’m fat to you?

GUY:  You are really fat…

GIRL looks confused.

GUY:  You are like the fattest girl I know… (Pause, then dramatically)  With a P H!

GIRL looks overjoyed and embraces GUY again.

 

I swear this happened exactly how I wrote it.  I love how corny and shallow they both seemed, yet they were so sincere it was really endearing.

Scott: Room to Sneeze

A monicor for every piece

of marmalade between my teeth

I marvel markedly at speed

and on the wall a dog-free leash

Does it make more sense to bleed

or fight or pray or bite or leave?

I might just take this kite to breeze

where there’s some room to sneeze.

Forgetfulness: Outtakes

I’m working hard on sifting through this big batch of fotos and fixing them up with my fancy foto-editing fingers. A few I have been assigned to photoshop hardcore because we did not have the prop, lighting effect…full moon…we needed to actually take them the way they need to be. I am teaching myself many things.

Anyway, I thought I would post here a few of the outtakes. They are fun little photo nuggets– but unfortunately, will probably not make the final cut.