David Bordwell & Kristin Thompson

[colinr0380]

I'm afraid I have not seen the Kozintsev yet. It is one of those films that I keep meaning to order but it gets pushed down my list with other films I want to pick up a copy of more urgently. I'm definitely going to have to pick up the Facets discs of that and King Lear soon though (I've wanted a copy of King Lear especially because of that being my favourite Shakespeare play and for the presence of Yuri Yarvet and Donatis Banionis pre-Solaris).

I thought the Branagh version was one of his best adaptations, up there with Henry V, but as with most of the Branagh versions it all depends on what you think about the milleu he has transposed the play into. I thought this was one of the more unobtrusive versions of that (I love the 30s setting of Love's Labour's Lost but am not so sure about the Japanese basis for As You Like It! It seems to be veering too much into Gilbert and Sullivan Mikado territory for my liking!). Also if you have trouble with the way Branagh performs Shakespeare, this film will not change your mind - it is the ne plus ultra of Branagh's Shakespeare adaptations, for better or worse.

I was also surprised by the way the celebrity cameos mostly worked very well, apart from Jack Lemmon, Robin Williams and Gerard Depardieu whose presence seemed more obviously there to lend some recognition value (and in William's case, wackiness) to important-to-the-plot but minor-in-acting-value roles. However it allowed for a final moving performance by Charlton Heston long after his best days were behind him and Judi Dench gives an unforgettably intense visualisation of Hecuba within the player's tale.

One Hamlet adaptation I saw recently which I thought was quite interesting was the film of the play by Peter Brooks starring Adrian Lester (who has been in Branagh adaptations such as Love's Labour's Lost and As You Like It). It is a radical reworking but whereas the Branagh goes big with the story everything in the Brooks version is pared down to the bone. I guess that in the end is the enduring legacy of Shakespare - you can twist and adapt the source material any which way to have new facets of the same play reveal themselves. It becomes less about one adaptation being spot on and another missing the mark but about which interpretation you personally feel closer to and how all the productions you see come together to add new perspectives to your understanding of the source.

[colinr0380]

Kristin T does a little (well-warranted) tribute to Bob Clampett.

But no mention of Coal Black

By the way Coal Black was mentioned (in rather glowing terms - "It was almost sport at Warner Bros. to spoof Disney and one of the greatest spoofs of all is their spoof of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, which was called Coal Black And De Sebben Dwarfs") by Jerry Beck on the fifth Looney Tunes Golden Collection volume. It makes an extremely brief appearance in the 'Once Upon A Looney Tune' featurette on the second disc with Beck's comments. At least by acknowledging it there may be some hope for it turning up in the future - but, lordy, even the brief clip is quite inflammatory!

[Via_Chicago]

I haven't seen Branagh's Hamlet in several years, but from what I recall, the film definitely suffers from the wild variations of the performances. Branagh himself is the prime culprit here, at times incredibly subtle and powerful (I thought his rendition of the "to be or not to be" soliloquy was effective and quite moving) and at others absolutely drenched in bombast (his "my thoughts be bloody" speech, complete with overwhelmingly loud, equally bombastic score, is the biggest offender here). Since Hamlet is, naturally, the linchpin of the entire film, and occupies the most screen time, when Branagh is "on," the film clicks, but when he's "off" (both as actor and director) it suffers terribly.

It is a lush film though, beautiful to look at, with some great performances, particularly Jacobi and Heston (!). Some of Branagh's stylistic touches didn't really work for me (the stabbing in the ear confession scene for one), but it's still a remarkable effort that makes pretty effective use of its entire 70mm frame.

[HerrSchreck]

Kristin T does a little (well-warranted) tribute to Bob Clampett.

But no mention of Coal Black

By the way Coal Black was mentioned (in rather glowing terms - "It was almost sport at Warner Bros. to spoof Disney and one of the greatest spoofs of all is their spoof of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, which was called Coal Black And De Sebben Dwarfs") by Jerry Beck on the fifth Looney Tunes Golden Collection volume. It makes an extremely brief appearence in the 'Once Upon A Looney Tune' featurette on the second disc with Beck's comments. At least by acknowledging it there may be some hope for it turning up in the future - but, lordy, even the brief clip is quite inflammatory!

If you've never seen it, you can watch it in full here

[Kenji]

Here's a passage from the (very good for its type) book, "The Little Black Book Movies", ed Chris Fujiwara, that brought this thread to mind:

"..philosopher Gilles Deleuze describes the final, virtuosic sequence-shot in L'Enfant Secret: "We see the café window, the man with his back turned, and in the window, the image of the woman also from the back crossing the street and going to meet the (drug) dealer". Garrel commented respectfully but matter-of-factly on this analysis: "Objectively the reason for this was the poverty pf resources: I had to film through a window to avoid yet more camera noise", adding "always, when i shoot, i'm solely preoccupied with technical problems". He is too modest..." (Adrian Martin)

[Donald Trampoline]

Why is it Ebert suddenly rediscovers the Branagh Hamlet after its recent release on DVD? There was quite a long period of time where fans had been clamoring for it when he could have made it a chosen selection. And mysteriously he's on board with Mishima just after Criterion announces its upcoming addition to their collection.

I'm probably just being paranoid, because almost none of the other films at Ebertfest (in the previous Bordwell article) fit this paranoid theory, but I just always find Ebert's dubious connection to studios and the vague possibility he sometimes could be doing their bidding (or ever so slightly and kindly helping them) a bit disturbing.

Nah, I'm probably paranoid because no one outside of the fest itself or this message board (and Bordwell's readers) would even know about the fest. Probably it's more that Ebert's just not an ahead-of-the-curve critic, which is not news. (Although maybe his screening of Underworld means we can look forward to a release! That is a fantastic film!) And not to say the selections for this fest were poor in any way. They are good selections in any case.

[colinr0380]

An excellent article on the practice of criticism and blogging in particular which could apply to many of the arguments we're having on the forum from analysing 300/Iron Man to putting up an interesting case for Armond White! ("Still other readers want to have their tastes tested, so they read critics whose tastes vary widely from theirs.")

[Michael Kerpan]

A very interesting article.

While I can appreciate the informed opinions of film writers with a perspective very unlike my own, I don't see that Armond White would ever fit into such category. Contrariness for its own sake just does not strike me as a terribly useful artistic position. ;~}

I must say that writing mini-essays (or full length ones) for free would not be so bad if one got at least a modicum of positive feedback. I've found it hard to motivate myself to keep up with things on my blog (now 60 or so films behind) -- and part of the reason is that it so often seems like one is speaking into a void. I spent a huge amount of time writing my articles for Senses of Cinema -- and yet have never gotten virtually any feedback. I get occasional comments from a handful of people on my blog, but that's it. At a certain point, it just seems a lot of work for (almost) nothing.

[MichaelB]

I must say that writing mini-essays (or full length ones) for free would not be so bad if one got at least a modicum of positive feedback. I've found it hard to motivate myself to keep up with things on my blog (now 60 or so films behind) -- and part of the reason is that it so often seems like one is speaking into a void. I spent a huge amount of time writing my articles for Senses of Cinema -- and yet have never gotten virtually any feedback. I get occasional comments from a handful of people on my blog, but that's it. At a certain point, it just seems a lot of work for (almost) nothing.

I know what you mean - I don't really mind if none of my Sight & Sound pieces get any feedback, because I get paid and the mere fact that the commissions keep coming means that someone must like them!

On the other hand, it would be extremely dispiriting if my blog attracted no comments at all - and while it doesn't get many (let's face it, it's a pretty specialised area), it certainly gets enough for me to think it's worth continuing. And some of the best feedback hasn't been in comments at all - they've been delivered via private e-mail or face to face.

What I also find stimulating is analysing what people have been looking for and - if relevant - writing a post that addresses the issue. Which is a bit like shutting the stable door after the horse is already miles away, but the Borowczyk DVD survey was originally written in response to Google demand, and it's gone on to be one of the most popular pages.

[colinr0380]

Well, you are both so far beyond me in your respective fields that there is not much I personally could offer in response except "wow, that sounds good"! I'm very grateful for what you are doing though and eagerly await all your posts!

[foggy eyes]

MK & MB, I enjoy keeping up with both of your blogs. As Colin says though, it's not always possible to respond with constructive feedback when one is often reading an entry for the new information it contains - after all, the less "wow, amazing, thanks!" comments one has to plough through online, the better.

I must say that writing mini-essays (or full length ones) for free would not be so bad if one got at least a modicum of positive feedback. I've found it hard to motivate myself to keep up with things on my blog (now 60 or so films behind) -- and part of the reason is that it so often seems like one is speaking into a void. I spent a huge amount of time writing my articles for Senses of Cinema -- and yet have never gotten virtually any feedback. I get occasional comments from a handful of people on my blog, but that's it. At a certain point, it just seems a lot of work for (almost) nothing.

This is pretty much exactly why I haven't found the motivation to start a blog yet - the other factor being that there is so much writing online now that the process of keeping up drains time that could productively be spent blogging. Indeed, with so much competition (be it, following Bordwell's distinction, writing or typing), one can quite easily end up addressing a void.

Saying that though, the blog format can still be a great way to get stuff out there. A friend of mine recently posted a fascinating lengthy analysis of Griffith's Biograph pictures, and received a friendly e-mail from Bordwell almost immediately. For students or budding critics, this outlet for critical essays and ability to build a portfolio is very promising - although getting pieces noticed is another matter altogether. Overall, I agree with DB wholeheartedly: relaxation of productivity and a more rigorous approach to editing and publication would really benefit both the nature and readership of online criticism - he's hit the nail on the head again.

[MichaelB]

MK & MB, I enjoy keeping up with both of your blogs. As Colin says though, it's not always possible to respond with constructive feedback when one is often reading an entry for the new information it contains - after all, the less "wow, amazing, thanks!" comments one has to plough through online, the better.

Totally agree. And in fact the vast majority of the 100 comments I've had to date (so roughly one every three days) have been very intelligent and constructive. And just one has been in any way abusive, which is a very pleasant surprise. (For the record, I've censored nothing, and the only reason I pre-vet comments is because Filmjournal has a truly colossal spam problem - I had over 300 attempts at comment spam over a 48-hour period recently)

This is pretty much exactly why I haven't found the motivation to start a blog yet - the other factor being that there is so much writing online now that the process of keeping up drains time that could productively be spent blogging. Indeed, with so much competition (be it, following Bordwell's distinction, writing or typing), one can quite easily end up addressing a void.

I've had quite a few false starts, and I think the answer is to try to identify a niche and then stick to it. After an anything-goes blog in 2004, I started one devoted to Czech cinema in 2006, but the former was too disorganised and the latter much too specialist.

So the present arrangement, whereby I write exclusively about central and eastern European cinema, suits me very well - even though I'm well aware that it's currently massively biased towards Czech, Hungarian and especially Polish cinema. But hopefully that should change over time - I've seen lots of interesting work from south-east Europe over the last three years or so, and hopefully I'll find an excuse to cover it properly. (In quite a few cases, the blog pieces are spin-offs from other commissions, usually derived from background research). I also have a ton of Russian DVDs that I've yet to watch properly, courtesy of a Ruscico subscription.

Saying that though, the blog format can still be a great way to get stuff out there. A friend of mine recently posted a fascinating lengthy analysis of Griffith's Biograph pictures, and received a friendly e-mail from Bordwell almost immediately. For students or budding critics, this outlet for critical essays and ability to build a portfolio is very promising - although getting pieces noticed is another matter altogether.

I won't name names here, as they were private e-mails, but let's just say my readership includes people whose work I admire enormously and who are leading scholars in the field. In fact, I was quite embarrassed to find out that they've been reading my far paltrier efforts!

But that's an unsurprising side-effect of operating in a niche - my blog is currently the number eight Google result for 'Andrzej Munk', who may not be up there with your Wajdas and Kieslowskis, but he's not that obscure. And it's becoming arguably the online reference resource for comprehensive English-language coverage of Polish documentaries, for the simple reason that hardly anyone else is writing about them, at least not online to that level of detail.

And believe me, it's an absolute pleasure - as Zedz pointed out in a PM to me (I doubt he'll mind me quoting it here, as it's squarely in line with what he's been saying in public), "I can't believe how great those PWA collections are. World cinema really is inexhaustible if you're prepared to dig a little."

For students or budding critics, this outlet for critical essays and ability to build a portfolio is very promising - although getting pieces noticed is another matter altogether. Overall, I agree with DB wholeheartedly: relaxation of productivity and a more rigorous approach to editing and publication would really benefit both the nature and readership of online criticism - he's hit the nail on the head again.

I'm nowhere near as rigorous with my blog pieces as I am with ones intended for professional publication, but I do have certain principles that I try to stick to - reviews are generally between about 500-1,000 words, and I only exceed the latter if the film is a real gobsmacker like Marketa Lazarová (and even then not by much). I also try to establish a reasonably uniform style so that regular readers know where they are. I should probably be more consistent about what I upload when, but the blog's always going to play second fiddle to paid work, and I've had a particularly good run of the latter over the last month or so.

On the other hand, I started a new blog last week that's based on much simpler principles - I'm working my way through Flicker Alley's entire Georges Méliès box and posting a new illustrated review of roughly 500 words or so at midnight my time every single night. The great thing about the blogging setup I'm using is that this process is automatic - as of today eight reviews have been published, but another eight are lined up ready to go, so even if I go away for a few days the daily publication will continue. And on this project there's a clear goal and even a completion date - round about the end of October, when I'll have covered all 173.

[sidehacker]

I must say that writing mini-essays (or full length ones) for free would not be so bad if one got at least a modicum of positive feedback. I've found it hard to motivate myself to keep up with things on my blog (now 60 or so films behind) -- and part of the reason is that it so often seems like one is speaking into a void. I spent a huge amount of time writing my articles for Senses of Cinema -- and yet have never gotten virtually any feedback. I get occasional comments from a handful of people on my blog, but that's it. At a certain point, it just seems a lot of work for (almost) nothing.

Heh, it's funny, I tend to show restraint when commenting on your blog. I'm always worried about wearing out my welcome. I always feel a little down when a post fails to create a little discussion since I'm sort of posting reviews in the first place to start discussion but I still like doing it anyway.

[Michael Kerpan]

I know that you (sidehacker) are someone who does look at this. ;~}

I expect if I had more energy to write at length these days, the lack of feedback wouldn't bother me so much..

[tryavna]

I must say that writing mini-essays (or full length ones) for free would not be so bad if one got at least a modicum of positive feedback. I've found it hard to motivate myself to keep up with things on my blog (now 60 or so films behind) -- and part of the reason is that it so often seems like one is speaking into a void.

This is an almost perfect description of most academic writing/publishing, too! I know several profs who have actually gone into blogging because it does provide more immediate, extensive, and varied feedback for ideas that grappling with.

[Michael Kerpan]

This is an almost perfect description of most academic writing/publishing, too! I know several profs who have actually gone into blogging because it does provide more immediate, extensive, and varied feedback for ideas that grappling with.

If I read an interesting book (or dissertation) on Japanese cinema -- and can fnd the author's e-mail address -- I usually send them a note expressing my appreciation. Seems like the least one can do.

[whaleallright]

Michael, you are that elusive species, who academic-press editors are convinced doesn't exist (and they're mostly right): the layman who routinely reads academic work!

The biggest problem is that publishers typically price their books for library sale and avoid spending money on marketing -- leaving anyone without a fat pocketbook, access to an academic library, or extreme devotion out in the woods. Though once -- just once -- I saw James Naremore's book on film noir prominently displayed at a local Borders. I should have taken a photograph.

[Michael Kerpan]

I've managed to get my public library to buy several expensive books on cinema for me already this year. This has made me very happy. ;~}

I can also access (recent) dissertations through my library.

[Ovader]

If I read an interesting book (or dissertation) on Japanese cinema -- and can fnd the author's e-mail address -- I usually send them a note expressing my appreciation. Seems like the least one can do.

I read your comment and made a similar gesture this morning to show my appreciation to an author and he replied within two hours. Incidentally Bordwell has a quote on the back of the book as an endorsement.

[wpqx]

Back to DB and KT, their third edition of Film History has been submitted for publication, and will most likely be out in stores early 2009.

I found their second edition quite well informed and although film history books are cumbersome (if not impossible) to write, they have done a respectable job at least touching the bases on most national cinemas. The one thing that I wished the previous edition would have done was include filmographies with each chapter (the way Jack Ellis' long out of date Film History book(s) did). If I'm reading about a subject of film history I'm not particularly familiar with, such as non-Bergman Scandinavian cinema, it would be nice to have some reasonable checklist to work with in order to pursue the subject further. I owe a tremendous amount of my film knowledge to Ellis' book simply because of the Films of the Period section at the end of each chapter.

As far as blogs and comments it is hard writing online. Not for any physical difficulty, but because people have been conditioned NOT to read anything online. Online has been for skimming information, especially as ISP's have provided faster and faster connections. Many people just can't naturally sit in front of a computer to read lengthy blogs and articles. Plus with the anyone can post mentality many potential readers simply can't keep up. I do realize the extraordinarily beneficial aspects of comments both positive and negative can have for a writer, especially an "amateur", but I find it's probably best to keep writing and maybe eventually someone will start reading. I've spent the better part of several years trying to keep the increasingly dwindling readership of interested.

[MichaelB]

As far as blogs and comments it is hard writing online. Not for any physical difficulty, but because people have been conditioned NOT to read anything online. Online has been for skimming information, especially as ISP's have provided faster and faster connections. Many people just can't naturally sit in front of a computer to read lengthy blogs and articles.

I think the answer is to refrain from writing anything too lengthy. On my Méliès blog, there isn't a single piece that's longer than about 750 words (most are around 500), and although it now contains many thousands of words about Méliès' films (and will amount to the length of a substantial book by the time I finish in October), they're packaged in easily digestible bite-sized chunks.

Granted, Méliès' work is unusually well suited to this treatment, as individual films are so short, but it's clear from my site stats and recurring IP addresses that I'm getting a lot of regular readers. In fact, I get a lot of traffic within half an hour of the regular midnight uploads, which is a wonderful incentive to keep going!

[wpqx]

I'd say, but sometimes keeping it short lends itself more towards regular newspaper criticism which is far from informative and largely a waste of time to read (imo). Damned if you do damned if you don't I suppose.

[MichaelB]

I'd say, but sometimes keeping it short lends itself more towards regular newspaper criticism which is far from informative and largely a waste of time to read (imo).

Not necessarily - it's just a question of how you organise the material. What usually happens in my day job is that while stringent upper limits are imposed per page, if I want to explore a particular aspect of a film in more depth, I just bolt on another page, and the reader can decide whether he or she wants to read it.

Take my Ken Russell on Television feature, for instance - there's tons of material there (thousands and thousands of words on just the very early BBC Monitor period alone), but because it's been split up across a great many pages it's much more accessible than would be the case if it was just one huge clump. And that way it caters for the readers who are only interested in the big titles like Elgar and Song of Summer, and those who fancy the ultra-obscure likes of Old Battersea House or Mr Chesher's Traction Engines.

I think the mistake people make is to assume that the web is simply another print medium.

[colinr0380]

I think the mistake people make is to assume that the web is simply another print medium.

True - the most important change is the possibility for the reader to organise and arrange the information for their own needs rather than in a way that has been defined by the author. As MichaelB says, breaking what could be an enormous article up into various linked postings or pages allows us to create our own journey through the material - choosing only to see the obscure Russell works or viewing the Méliès material chronologically, by subject or by technique. I think this is the opposite of the pessimistic idea of electonic information causing shorter attention spans and more impatience with information; rather one of the great benefits of the web is that it allows the audience to engage with the material in their own fashion and to even make connections between subjects that might not have been intended.

The latest post - I'm not sure that I would want to agree with the idea that that compromises have to be made with an eye towards what the DVD audience will 'accept'. It sounds worryingly like an old argument put forward for pan and scanning widescreen films because home viewers "like their whole screen filled". Sure some viewers may feel that way but it shouldn't be the restorer's job to pander to modern audience expectations but rather to try to respect the original specifications of the film itself.

(This of course is another reason why associated documentaries, booklets and/or commentaries are important for giving some background about the film, as well as explaining decisions made by the restorers, archivists and even distributors so the viewer can understand more fully why the film looks and sounds the way it does!)

[MichaelB]

I think this is the opposite of the pessimistic idea of electonic information causing shorter attention spans and more impatience with information; rather one of the great benefits of the web is that it allows the audience to engage with the material in their own fashion and to even make connections between subjects that might not have been intended.

Absolutely. This ability to make connections is crucial to understanding the difference between writing for print and writing for the web. I think it's a big mistake to assume that because an individual page may only have four or five hundred words, that this means that it's bound to be superficial.

Take my piece on Ken Russell's undeservedly little-known Lonely Shore - it's a fourteen-minute film that gets 400 words of contextual analysis and a further 500 words of detailed description on an accompanying page. Because it's part of a much wider collection of Russell's work for the Monitor strand, I don't have to worry about setting it in that context, so in practice those 900 words are almost entirely devoted to that one film. Proportionally, that's a lot - the equivalent of nearly 6,000 words on a normal-length feature.

Clearly, only people interested in the film at all will read the initial 400 words, and only those seriously interested will read the additional 500 words, but that's fine - the information's there for those who need it. And I don't think this is a case of catering for short attention spans so much as the logical outcome of rethinking the way people absorb information via a different medium.