Re: The 1961 Mini-List
Posted: Sun May 15, 2022 8:03 am
As a reminder, today is your last chance to vote for 1961. I'll post results after I wake up Monday morning
I get why people don’t get The Innocents, but for me it pushes several buttons: widescreen black and white with thoughtful use of the full frame, children haunted by trauma, a brittle Deborah Kerr performance, Michael Redgrave being aloof, a Georges Auric score, ghosts/haunted houses, a woman’s questioned sanity, a few people in a vast house/remote location, and more. But the #1 factor is that I still, after so many viewings, get chills when Peter Quint suddenly looms into the fogged-up window.Rayon Vert wrote: I don't get The Innocents either, but even less so La Notte - the Antonioni films from 60 to 66 all rank very highly for me, but that one really feels overwrought.
Well said. I've never adored the movie quite as much as most of its fans, but it's a great mood piece with expertly-brewed dread closing in from all sides. Also, as someone who typically enjoys deliberately-enigmatic finales, this is the rare 'question-mark' ending that continues to disturb me greatly every viewing, and even thinking about it now. The way everything unfolds demands to be considered with urgency rather than left nebulous, but also withholds all via the unexpected mortality, forcing that urgency to be left unfulfilled. One of the best gut-punches the movies have given us.Matt wrote: Tue May 17, 2022 4:41 am I get why people don’t get The Innocents, but for me it pushes several buttons: widescreen black and white with thoughtful use of the full frame, children haunted by trauma, a brittle Deborah Kerr performance, Michael Redgrave being aloof, a Georges Auric score, ghosts/haunted houses, a woman’s questioned sanity, a few people in a vast house/remote location, and more. But the #1 factor is that I still, after so many viewings, get chills when Peter Quint suddenly looms into the fogged-up window.
Have you seen the film? Zooms are used in just about every scene, for everything from obvious, grand shifts in scale to subtle reframings. Tag Gallagher's video essay on the Arrow release mentions the specific lens used for the film and reveals that Rosellini actually controlled its zoom function himself via remote control.knives wrote: Tue May 17, 2022 4:35 pm Those aren’t zooms in the Rossellini. I’m not sure if the tech existed yet, but even when it did he was opposed to it and refused to use them.
Tag Gallagher in Artforum wrote:In the historical films, scenes are not lit for effect, but rather for clarity of the essential (in Italian meaning also “simple”) image. In keeping with his desire to perfect the reproductive capabilities of cinema, Rossellini’s researches into optics have enabled him to perfect a remarkably smooth 25–250mm zoom lens. Most zoom lenses have the disadvantages of distorting perspective and producing less sharp images. Accordingly filmmakers often prefer to move the entire camera rather than to zoom. The remarkable quality of Rossellini’s zoom lens is that, when used carefully it preserves perspective and sharpness. His camera, one might say, becomes the eye of history, as dry as that of a purportedly objective history book, and yet an eye seeing images that have an actuality which verges on the deliriously exciting.
I'm not going to keep going back and forth with you since I'm sure it's not all that entertaining to read.Peter Brunette in Roberto Rossellini wrote:The zoom, though by now a fixed part of Rossellini's technique, is used quite sparingly in Viva l'Italia!, compared with both Vanina Vanini, Rossellini's next film, and Era notte a Roma, and the constant use of the zoom in those films to reframe and tighten is missing here. When the zoom is used, it seems disguised; thus, standard Rossellini camera movements back through a crowd listening to a speech or watching some spectacle are here so subtle that it is even difficult to tell definitively, especially in interiors, whether they are zooms or simple dollies. The zoom is sometimes used thematically, as well—for example, to suggest the oneness of men and their landscape. Even in scenes of the troops resting, the perspectival flattening of the long zoom lens seems to inscribe the men ever more totally into the surrounding hills and valleys. Before one important battle, the camera lyrically plays over various "domestic" scenes in Garibaldi's camp. Then, in the same shot, it picks up the enemy on a distant ridge, and, in an extremely subtle zoom that is almost completely masked by an accompanying pan, moves in closer, thus suggesting the coming physical encounter by first enacting it visually and spatially. Similarly, Garibaldi's deep connection with the people is demonstrated by the zoom lens. When Naples has fallen, for example, the camera shows us a huge, celebrating crowd from behind; then, as Garibaldi's words are heard, the camera seems to seek him out, the zoom finally finding him in the midst of giving a speech from a balcony. Since the long shot of the crowd and the final tight shot on Garibaldi are both part of the same plan-séquence, the equation between him and the people is forcefully made.