David Bordwell’s Art Cinema as a Mode of Film Practice aims to categorize the “art film,” as we now know it. Bordwell claims there are multiple attributes a film can utilize which would qualify a film as an “art film”. Bordwell’s aims in notating these attributes it to hopefully outline a system to categorize art cinema to then create a symbiotic relationship with traditional narrative cinema or, traditional Hollywood cinema, and the avant-garde or “art film.”

One of the most defining aspects of the art film which distinguishes it from traditional cinema is the narrative structure. Art cinema tends to play with traditional structure and allows for jumps in time and fragmentation that may not be immediately understood by the viewer as opposed to the usual linear structure of traditional Hollywood narrative. The process of altering narrative structure subsequently alters spectatorial activity. The way in which a viewer processes art film is inherently different from traditional cinema. Bordwell argues that there are two principles which motivate experimentation to narrative structure, “realism”, and “authorial expressivity.” (Bordwell 651.)

The notion of realism coming from experimentation may initially sound off. There is something jarring about the disruption of narrative structure initially, however when the disruption is done to prioritize the psychological states of the characters, one can find a complex and potentially more enriching character experience. An example can be found in Godard’s Weekend at approximately 1:10:45 in which the main characters are sitting, and waiting, for an undisclosed amount of time. The spectators have not had a system of consistent scene length within the film to make any assumptions about how long this scene may last. The main characters wait for their ride to continue as two men talk of Marxism. This a recurring trend in the film though the structure does not provide a consistent support system. We are allowed an extended time with the main characters on one of the films prevailing themes, yet we are not fully aware of their considerations on the topic, there is a complexity there. Bordwell notes this complexity as the intended realism of art cinema. Art cinema characters tend to be psychologically complex. (Bordwell 651.)

Art cinema according to Bordwell also offers an absurdism or lack of choice for the characters. There is a sense that actions occur. This is to further distinguish art cinema as a mode of cinema which concerns itself with the real and a commitment to realism. However, Bordwell notes that while the structure and character autonomy may both be loose, art cinema all does this in favor of the psychological richness and character exploration of its subjects.

Another key element in art cinema is the utilization of the “flash forward.” Bordwell notes the authorial presence this creates, specifically highlighting that there is a director who does have some answers which the character may not, or the viewer may not. In some cases, these flash forwards could even be captioning to denote information. In a sense, art cinema regardless of its aims—is inherently more prone to auteur theory. The presence of the director is not ignored. However, Peter Wollenen describes Godard’s Weekend as a film which gets around the dilemma of authorial focus through a heavy amount of reference. “The film can no longer be seen as a discourse with a single subject, the film maker/auteur. Just as there is a multiplicity of narrative worlds, so too there is a multiplicity of speaking voices.” (Wollen 423.)

Art cinema does not need to abide by these attributes as rules, rather, these are commonalities among the art cinema of the time during Bordwell’s writing of the article. However, one of the most significant points Bordwell makes is Hollywood’s adopting traits of art cinema to utilize in traditional narrative form. The sort of relationship Bordwell suggests can go both ways in that, traditional Hollywood cinema has a mass influence on the psyche of the general populous and subsequently, art cinema can work to explore that influence. There is a sort of mutual feedback loop which occurs when the two forms work in conjunction with one another rather than at odds.

Peter Wollen’s speaks to Godard’s art cinema as “counter cinema,” which notes the relationship Bordwell speaks on, if anything in a bit more of an antagonistic way. Wollen states “It can only exists in relation to the rest of the cinema. Its function is to struggle against the fantasies, ideologies, and aesthetic devices of one cinema with its own antagonistic fantasies, ideologies, and aesthetic devices.” (Wollen 426.)

Wollen’s arguments seem to indicate art cinema’s purpose is to counteract traditional cinema. Wollen is specifically speaking on Godard but I believe the techniques can be universalized amongst films which utilize some or any of the traits Bordwell outlines. Wollen is correct. You cannot have an alternative cinema if no primary or initial cinema exists. However, its purpose to counteract is questionable. I would argue art’s cinema’s purpose is to continue to articulate the real in a way in which traditional Hollywood may not aim to do.  The act of rebellion may exist, but it ceases to account for traditional Hollywood’s narratives’ long-term influence on people.  The influence and change in ideas over time is the subject matter for the art film, not the enemy.

Questions:

Was Weekend’s narrative structure difficult to latch onto? What did you prioritize in order to process the film?

What takes precedence to you as a spectator while watching art cinema? Plot, theme, characters, is it a singular experience?

Does the list of attributes Bordwell highlight hold true to contemporary art cinema? Has art cinema changed from that time?

Do traditional Hollywood Films still utilize art film traits the way the Godfather did? Has the focus shifted?

References:

Bordwell, D. (2016). The Art Cinema As A Mode of Film Practice (982205827 760626895 L. Braudy & 982205828 760626895 M. Cohen, Eds.). In Film theory and criticism: Introductory readings (pp. 649-657). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Wollen, P. (2016). Godard and Counter Cinema: Vent D’est (982199755 760623028 L. Braudy & 982199756 760623028 M. Cohen, Eds.). In Film theory and criticism: Introductory readings (pp. 418-426). Oxford: Oxford University Press.

I would like to call attention to two scenes. The first being at 50:19-51:30, the physical comedown post-Karaoke and the oscillating perspectives of the landscape and the characters’ viewpoints

The second scene is nearing the end around 127:45-128:03 in which Bob Harris (Bill Murray) gazes at Charlotte (Scarlett Johansson) ending their conversation and closing the elevator after returning his coat.

My choice for the first scene is largely prompted by the apparent advantages film has to written or static-visual narrative form. The utilization of non-diegetic sound, specifically “Sometimes” by My Bloody Valentine to eventually fade back into the diegetic sounds of the city and the taxi offer us a degree of involvement in the space which the characters occupy.  However, it’s a liminal phenomena, We, the viewers, are experiencing a gaze of cultural displacement, over-stimulation, and pleasure. Coppola’s choice to use “shoegaze” or “dreampop” here seems to inherently ground the audience through an emphasis via the soundtrack which the diegetic sounds may not have done as strongly. The distorted guitar builds up, the vocals are washed out underneath, it’s hard to focus in on any one thing that is being presented and as such, the phenomena of being taken by the scenery is shared between the characters and us, the spectators. We’re cued by this from what sounds like a radio or an amalgam of diegetic sounds bringing us back in to alter the viewpoint.

Charlotte’s view of Tokyo in the evening fulfills the Fruedian scopophilic  view which Mulvey highlights in a peculiarly multi-faceted way. The viewers gaze switches to Charlotte’s view, allowing the spectator to indulge in the same pleasures of viewing as Charlotte experiences before ultimately bringing us back to the traditional scophophilic view of the woman as the sexualized view, to ultimately alter the angle to Charlotte’s view of a sleeping Bob, an inversion of the traditional male gaze. This is not to say the gaze is intrinsically sexual as Mulvey notes that,  “according to the principles of the ruling ideology and the psychical structures that back it up, the male figure cannot bear the burden of sexual objectification” (Mulvey, 716). However, the inversion we’re seeing is an alteration to a history of Hollywood’s traditional narrative structure: an autonomy is granted to Charlotte that may not have existed if this film were directed under traditional Hollywood settings.

The second scene nearing the closing of the film is peculiar to me because we view the male gaze traditionally. The spectator watches Charlotte’s rear figure as Bob views that same figure but again in a twist of the take, Charlotte is not powerless to this gaze. Rather, she has the autonomy to end it. Their character relations could have allowed for a myriad of options, several of which may have been more favorable to Bob’s desires—any of which Charlotte staying in the lobby and remaining in his view. However, Charlotte’s autonomy allows her to be the deciding factor in the gaze, granting her a power in a very quotidian task.

Lost in Translation routinely plays jump rope with the lines of the male gaze. This facet of the film is both a strength but seems to highlight some trouble for film. There seems to be an underlying tension between the real and film. Mulvey states “The image of woman as (passive) raw material for the (active) gaze of man takes the argument a step further into the structure of representation, adding a further layer demanded by the ideology of the patriarchal order as it is worked out in its favorite cinematic form—illusionistic narrative film.” (Mulvey, 721). Mulvey here highlights the underlying ideology of upholding the patriarchal system which fuels the male gaze in cinema. Mulvey’s claims in that regard are much like Pudovkin’s notion of film as a propaganda tool put into sinister praxis. (Pudovkin, 11). Psychical structures of society exist perversely and propagate through film as propaganda in a sort of feedback loop. We see breaks in this loop in the scenes where the diegesis allows these alternate viewpoints and the very removal of the sexual intimacy of Charlotte and Bob is very significant in this. However, the “real” pops up in the characterization of Charlotte. The film opens and is propped up with a lounging Charlotte, a personal intimacy in undergarments. This is a quotidian affair but the nature of sexualization effectively creates the male gaze despite attempting to offer an honest portrayal of a woman in cinema. Can this tension be undone purely through film alone?

My questions are largely, how important is extra-diegetic sound to a cinematic experience? (Was the soundtrack successful for Lost in Translation?)

Are narrative driven films able to maintain realism while attempting to disrupt norms of the real?

Is film trapped as a simulacrum of the real rather than a tool able to subvert it?

Can film only successfully serve as a tool of propaganda for the dominant class or does it have praxis utility universally?

References:

Mulvey, Laura. “Laura Mulvey Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” Film Theory and Criticism Introductory Readings, by Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen, Oxford University Press, 2016, pp. 711–722.

Pudovkin, Vsevolod. “[On Editing].” Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings, by Leo Braudy and Marshall Cohen, Oxford University Press, 2016, pp. 7–12.