Change Your Image
mcboo
Reviews
Thirty Two Short Films About Glenn Gould (1993)
A journal of feelings/ideas about Gould, not a sluggish attempt at typical narrative recreation.
Girard succeeds where many have failed- he creates an intimate portrait of an artist without falling subject to the cumbersome confines of the narrative 'birth to death' storyline format. What better way to breathe life into a musician's 'story' than rhythmically assembling a collection of several recreated happenings, bits of documentary conversation, and performances of actual musical pieces (orchestrated works of Gould's) that each examine a particular instance from Glen Gould's life?
By avoiding a typical diluted overview of the artist's entire timeline of events, Girard instead picks out specific happenings in Gould's life that each tells a story of a complex, confused, and brilliant man. These shorts are shown in a somewhat chronological order, so as not to completely ignore the fact that the collection of shorts aims to sculpt a more complete picture of Gould. Their consecutive placement being rhythmically conscious, the viewer is never lost in the experimental efforts or the non-narrative spectrum of the shorts, as they are closely followed by the more tangible aspects of Gould's life. Aesthetic elements from Gould's creative life are often carried over from one short to the next, which helps reinforce the unity as a whole of the 32 separate films.
One of the most important aspects this structure brings to its audience is freeing them from the typical passive role. Instead of loosing yourself into a 2 hour story that tries its hardest to make it's viewer forget their lives, troubles, and identities by sweeping them into a fantasy world, the constant breathes between these short episodes remind the audience what they're seeing more resembles a diary from the artist rather than an alternate reality to 'forget oneself' in.
Aside from the highly effective (and I believe far more suitable) structural effort of the film, the camera's language combined with the film's language is very conventional (aside from the sound editing in several cases). At times, the extremely literal usage of visual imagery falls a little flat, but it also works within its context in particular cases. Other innovations in the film stem from the content chosen (or even more so, what the filmmaker chooses not to show in several of the shorts). An excellent film for those who are humbled at the overwhelming confusion even the brilliant can carry.
Chelovek s kino-apparatom (1929)
Vertov showed us cinema's untapped potential 70 years ago...
If only we had listened to Vertov back in 1929....
Even though amazing, the film's year of creation isn't half as incredible as the film itself... there's a sensitivity inherent in Vertov's depiction of these cities as he questions them, mocks them, yet at times also depicts them quite affectionately.
The film's pacing flutters with lightning quick precision, letting us see each image only as long as necessary, always conscious of an engaging musical rhythm.
At the heart of Vetov's cinema is an attempt to convince the audience that film as an art form doesn't have to simply recreate the effects of other mediums (literature and theatre namely). Without considering the medium's unique capabilities (the ability to transcend time and space?), are we denying the medium its full potential? Didn't we simply write the rules of film with the intentions of duplicating the art forms we already enjoy? This brings forth the idea that film is simply a bastard of an art form, illegitimately conceived between the visuals of theatre and the conception of the narrative story... is their growth in such mimicry?
In his efforts with Man Behind the Movie Camera, Vertov wishes us to remember throughout the duration of the film that we ARE watching a film, not simply being 'fooled' or 'sucked into' the world of a film, an artificial reality in which we leave ourselves behind upon entrance. Vertov feared the possibilities of spoon-fed media... and in MBtMC, he defies time and space, in an attempt to create a modern portrait, an engaging experience in which we do not 'loose ourselves'.
Well, the next question would be, "Is this film engaging?" I'm quite confident that most people will agree, "It certainly is." Doesn't this ask us what untapped potential film may offer? It's a questioned that isn't new... but is it consistently ignored?