The following is a brief film analysis of the opening montage found in Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now.  I say “brief” because this is a film so rich in content and style that a person could spend days pouring through the details and making new discoveries.  Take this as “first glance” analysis of how the creative decisions of the filmmakers relate to the content of the film.  Although I have seen the film multiple times, I have yet to see it on the big screen (hint hint Redford or Detroit Film Theatre).  The $125 price tag at Ebertfest 2010 (which includes 12 films) might be worth it simply for the 70mm screening of Apocalypse Now Redux.

The opening montage of Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now is an almost overwhelming blend of sound, music and visuals.  From the selection of music and the blend of editing to the color and the imagery, the film is a tapestry upon which the filmmakers paint a dark journey into the jungle of Vietnam and the souls of two men—Captain Benjamin L. Willard and Colonel Walter E. Kurtz.

The film starts—appropriately—in total darkness, something that is one of the many circular aspects within the montage.  The characters in the film journey towards an increasingly dark place (visually and spiritually), so it is fitting the filmmakers would choose a black screen for the opening scene.  As the viewer stares into the darkness, a “wooshing” sound is heard, traveling from left to the right.  The tree line of a jungle emerges from the darkness and a yellowish gas (or dust) is kicked up into the air.  These new visuals help to establish the rotor blades of a helicopter as the origin of the sound and as the dust rises, a guitar starts to play.  For a few seconds, we sit, waiting for something to happen.  Then suddenly, the tree line ignites in a brilliant ball of fire as Jim Morrison’s voice proclaims “this is the end.”

It is important to note that the sound throughout the opening montage is almost entirely non-diegetic and features only sound effects and music.  There is no dialogue for the viewer to concentrate on, something that makes the sound and imagery during this early mélange of scenes that much more prominent.  The sound heard in the opening montage of Apocalypse Now can be broken down into two parts.  The first—which is non-diegetic—is the soundtrack that provides the background music.  The Doors “The End” begins with the fireball in the jungle and eventually fades out towards the end of the montage, never actually finishing the song.  The style of the music evokes the Vietnam era and the lyrics fit perfectly with the content of the film, almost foreshadowing what is to come.  For instance, the line of the song that starts “Desperately in need of some strangers hand/In a desperate land” seems to signify the people they will meet and receive help from on their journey through the jungle.  This is especially true of the redux version Apocalypse Now in which Captain Willard encounters a French family still living near the Vietnam/Cambodia border.  Other lines like “All the children are insane/Waiting for the summer rain” point to information viewers will soon gain about Colonel Kurtz.  The word “insane” is used by the top Army officials to describe his mental state and is used by Willard on his journey up river, as well as when he is interrogated by Kurtz later in the film.  The “summer rain” line that follows is also fitting since the rain is one of many things the crew battles on their journey.

The point at which the music starts and the jungle bursts into flame is where the montage changes from something the viewers are merely watching to something that challenges them to make sense of what they are seeing as it grows more and more complex.  As the jungle burns and the smoke thickens, Willard’s face appears (upside down) on the left side of the screen, a close-up shot blended with the jungle in the background.  His eyes are open at first and as helicopters fly by, he blinks.  For a few moments, this image is stagnant before the right side of the screen gives way to a ceiling fan turning like a helicopter blade.  This is where the second part of the montage’s sound comes into play.  The helicopter rotor that the audience hears turning seems at first to be internal diegetic sound (only in the mind of Captain Willard), but as the montage reaches its end, we see that there is indeed a helicopter outside his window in Saigon, putting the sound effect into the category of external diegetic (can be heard by all characters).

Following the appearance of Willard’s face into the montage, the overall image on the screen becomes even more complex.  At one point, Willard’s face, the fan, the jungle and multiple helicopters are all visible at once before fading into a black screen.  The trees in the jungle then become silhouettes against a fiery orange glow of the burning jungle.  The purpose for this change in color is twofold.  First, the move to a black background symbolizes Willard’s mind spiraling into darkness (he drunkenly punches a mirror soon after the montage) and the journey that is to come.  Second, the change in color signifies the move from day to night, allowing the filmmaker to provide the notion of time passing to viewers.  The idea that a significant amount of time had passed during the montage is reinforced later by Willard when he narrates, “I’m here a week now…waiting for a mission…getting softer.”

The montage then divides into thirds, Captain Willard’s face on the left, the jungle in the middle and a new image, that of an ancient rock face, on the right.  The scene is very symmetrical—Willard’s eyes are still on the bottom, while the rock face has eyes on the top as if they were looking out over the audience.  Aside from bringing an aura of mysticism and the unknown to the scene, the rock face also continues the theme of circular elements throughout the film.  This face is a direct prelude to scenes at the end of the film where the same image can be seen following the events at Kurtz’s Cambodia camp.  By using these images, the filmmakers do more than simply pique the curiosity of viewers—they provide a sense of completion and of going full circle on this long journey into darkness.

Towards the end of the montage, the shot pans across a bedside table, where letters and a picture of a woman lie next to an immobile Willard.  This shot in particular helps ground the viewer and confirms Willard’s actual location throughout the course of the montage.  This short glimpse at his personal effects also gives the audience a small amount of back story, something that is especially valuable in a montage with no dialogue.  It is also important to note that throughout the montage, even as layers change, one element always remains constant—the jungle.  This visual representation of not being able to escape the jungle is summed up shortly after the montage when Captain Willard says, “When I was here I wanted to be there.  When I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the jungle.”

Running roughly four minutes, the beginning montage of Apocalypse Now uses multiple visual layers, sound effects and music not only to set a mood, but to prepare the viewers for a journey—both literally and figuratively—into the heart of darkness.

This is the last part of a three part article examining films that I have recently crossed off The Ultimate List.  See the posts below for Part I (Lawrence of Arabia) and Part II (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind).  Check back soon for the first “Cinema Review” feature where I will be examining the Redford Theatre in detail!

Planet of the Apes

Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!”

That famous line, spoken by George Taylor (Charlton Heston) just as the curtains closed for intermission at the Redford Theatre, pretty much sums up Planet of the Apes.  In that single sentence you can find both the social commentary and the pure quotable sci-fi goodness that runs throughout the film.

Although the memorable quotes and (some would argue) even more memorable visuals are what have made the film such a big part of popular culture over the years, it is the social commentary that still keeps it fresh and relevant today.  Look back to any era of human history and you will find not only slavery, but poor treatment of any group of people deemed “inferior” by the general public.  The Egyptians did it.  The Romans did it.  And only 149 years ago, according to the census, 393,975 individuals owned 3,950,528 slaves in the United States (1860 Census Results).  The film serves as a reminder that humans are incredibly capable of treating their fellow man in the worst possible way.  Late in the film, the character Cornelius (Roddy McDowall) reads from the sacred “ape” scrolls that portray humans in a less than favorable light:

Beware the beast Man, for he is the Devil’s pawn. Alone among God’s primates, he kills for sport or lust or greed. Yea, he will murder his brother to possess his brother’s land. Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours. Shun him; drive him back into his jungle lair, for he is the harbinger of death.”

Starbuck “harbinger of death” references aside (for you Battlestar Galactica fans out there), even though the way humans are treated is featured as the most prominent form of social commentary throughout Planet of the Apes, issues like freedom of thought, separation of church and state and a good old fashion dose of political commentary are also thrown into the mix.  Many people have seen the final scene of the film or at least know of its existence due to the countless pop culture references.  However, few really grasp its meaning and intensity without watching the entire film.  The United States was only six years removed from the Cuban Missile Crisis and fears still ran high around the world regarding nuclear war.  I don’t claim to know what was going through the minds of people in the 1960s, but this scene is powerful evidence that the threat of a large civilization-changing conflict wasn’t far from the thoughts of the general public.

This is the second part of a three part article exploring three films that I recently crossed off The Ultimate List.  Part I examined Lawrence of Arabia and Part III will look at Planet of the Apes.  Check back often this week as I also hope to have my first “Cinema Review” of a local movie theater posted soon.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

While it is not the first Michel Gondry-directed work I have had the opportunity to watch (I hopped on the Gondry bandwagon late, so Be Kind Rewind holds that honor), Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind definitely is one of the most thought-provoking and visually interesting sci-fi films I have seen in a long while.  One of the fascinating things about the film is how it uses neosurrealism to convey the deletion of Clementine (Winslet) from Joel’s (Carey) memory.  Now I am by no means a connoisseur of anything art related so I had to do a little research into this whole “neosurrealism” thing.  I found that the term was originally used to describe the resurgence of (go figure) surrealism in the 1970s, but more recently has taken a turn towards the more fantastic.  The technical definition gives the best look into how it is used in the film:

Neosurrealism: an artistic genre that illustrates the complex imagery of dream or subconscious visions in irrational space and form combinations.”

Given that a large portion of the movie is comprised of a dream sequence, it is no surprise that Gondry uses neosurrelism to aid his storytelling.  To get a better idea of just how the concept works in its various formats, take a look at the image on the left by Detroit-born photographer Jerry Uelsmann and then the scene from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on the right.

The room, the chair and even elaborate sandcastle might be ordinary objects, but when combined together make for something that looks straight out of a dream.  The scene from the film does the same thing when it takes what might be a normal situation (washing two babies in the sink) and twists it into something we could only find in our subconscious (talking adult-looking man/woman babies being washed in the sink).

What surprised me most about the film is how perfect the role of the main character Joel was for Jim Carey (meaning that it is the complete opposite of what we normally would expect from him).  When Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind first came out way back in 2004, I shied away because Carey was in it.  I know you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover or a film by its actor, but Carey’s Ace Ventura-esque comedy is near the top of my “things to avoid in a film” list (right up there with Nicholas Cage….but that’s another story).  I was surprised by how good Carey’s portrayal of the introspective Joel was and equally surprised by the rest of the cast of the film.  I guess I really didn’t expect Jim Carey, Kate Winslet, Elijah Wood, Tom Wilkinson, Kirsten Dunst and Mark Ruffalo all to be in an indie sci-fi film.

Besides being a mind bending, neosurrealistic, sci-fi relationship story, the film also deals with some pretty heavy themes on how we deal with loss, whether it is a pet, a breakup or a death in the family.  The people (or more likely the marketers) behind the film went the extra mile and created a fictitious website for Lacuna, the company that performs memory removal services throughout the movie.  It would be interesting to know just how many people have gone to this website and tried to utilize their services.  More interesting is what this says about our society.

This is the first of a three part article briefly examining three films I recently crossed off “The Ultimate List.”  Today I will take a look at Lawrence of Arabia and will follow this post with Part II (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) and Part III (Planet of the Apes).

Lawrence of Arabia

I won’t go into too much detail about the actual experience of watching Lawrence of Arabia at the Redford Theatre because I am currently writing a more thorough version, but needless to say, this was one of those precious moments where both the theater and the film exceeded the grandeur that preceded them.

For those that haven’t had the chance to partake of this exemplary piece of filmmaking, the story goes a little something like this: during World War I, the British Army assisted various Arab tribes in a revolt against the Turks (more commonly known as the Arab Revolt).  The British had a significant interest in seeing the Turks driven back or defeated in Arabia due to the Turkish alliance with the Ottoman Empire and the rest of the Central Powers.  This is where the title character, T.E. Lawrence comes in.  Sent by the British to work with the Arabs, he eventually succeeded in uniting some of the Arab tribes and helped lead them to a string of surprise victories.

The most interesting aspect of the film is not the adventure, the battles or the political intrigue (all of which are spectacular), but the character study of Lawrence.  Director David Lean (The Bridge Over the River Kwai, Doctor Zhivago) and especially actor Peter O’Toole do a great job demonstrating how a man, considered by many to be odd and different in his own culture, could fit in with a foreign people and setting.  The flamboyant Lawrence grows to love the desert landscape and the people that inhabit it so much so that his loyalties come into question at one point in the film.  The film’s take on Lawrence was so interesting that it prompted me to do a little research about what he was actually like.  Besides being quite well educated and knowledgeable about the world, the real life Lawrence was known for some pretty crazy stuff including inventing a fictitious uncle that “beat” him and hiring people to whip him.  I might revisit the film’s portrayal again after I have read Lawrence’s account of his war experiences (Seven Pillars of Wisdom) and the biography by John Edward Mack (A Prince of Our Disorder) that documented his eccentric nature.

There have been many attempts to describe the experience that is Lawrence of Arabia, but none have summed it up as eloquently as Roger Ebert in his book The Great Movies:

“I’ve noticed that when people remember Lawrence of Arabia, they don’t talk about the details of the plot.  They get a certain look in their eye, as if they are remembering the whole experience and have never quite been able to put it into words.”

To do the film justice you must devote enough time (216 minutes, not including intermission) and see it on the largest screen possible.  The weekend I caught it at the Redford, I was fortunate enough to see it in all of its 70mm glory, which for a film that debuted in 1962, looks amazingly crisp.  It is stunning to think, especially today in the age of computer animation, how much work went into simply capturing the beautiful desert scenery that provides the backdrop to the story of Lawrence of Arabia.