essence of film

The Dreamy Image of the Fashion Icon

I think I have to throw up before being able to discuss Stanley Donen’s beloved classic Funny Face (1957) which is a film of excessive romanticism, too cute creatures and musical numbers that will make the dearest friend of escapist entertainment shield his eyes from horror. It’s a pink box, decorated with frilled bows, which once opened reveals a world so fluffy that it can’t be taken seriously. One just can’t believe in it — even as a staged dream. Everything is just too lovely and sweet. Now, after saying what had to be said, I can begin another painful yet rewarding journey into the core of (a) musical.

Many consider Funny Face as the one and only fashion film. A film which is like a cinematic festival of fashion. In addition, people seem to worship Funny Face as the film which determined Audrey Hepburn as the fashion icon of her generation. It is as if the film celebrated Hepburn’s fashion stardom. However, it wasn’t merely the clothes which people fell in love with. For many contemporary critics thought that Hepburn was just too cute. She does, in fact, bring romantic depth to the film with her adorable charm which has probably been one of the major factors in making Funny Face such an enduring classic.

Already the innovative opening credits of fashion and design prove that Funny Face is a modern picture. Its imaginative use of montage, still shots, split screens and negative frames are all part of the legacy it left. The details become more and more important for the entirety and, towards the end, the decoration almost explodes out of the screen. In other words, it becomes excessive and banal. But in the first half of the film, the visual decoration works extremely well.

Through the use of romantic aesthetics, Donen highlights the mood of a fantasy-like universe. The colour scale is wide and variable from the brightest shades to elusive gloomy blur. Moreover, the fashion office, the Eiffel tower and the Champs-Élysées are put against the old book store, the Parisian coffeehouse and the backyard of a church in which wild nature blossoms freely.

Not surprisingly, all these aesthetic choices have a thematic connection. The modern cinematography, distinctive mise-en-scène and imaginative dance numbers reflect the themes of love and passion, yearn and loneliness. The precise composition of one scene in particular is exceptionally memorable. I am referring to the scene in which Jo (Hepburn) and Dick, played by Fred Astaire, are talking about empathy. As the girl explains the term to Dick, it seems that they position each other on “the same level”.

Another common topic, which is often discussed regarding Funny Face, beside its luminous presentation of fashion, is its chauvinistic aspect. For it is a story about an intelligent young woman, who doesn’t appreciate the fashion industry, but when put to her place she begins to love the occupation of a model. To my mind, however, the film should not be seen as sexist. In fact, the matador dance number, which follows the scene at the coffeehouse, is a grotesque caricature of entrenched conventions — the man entices the woman to him and finally hunts her down with a bayonet.

Already in the coffeehouse Jo and Dick were discussing how a woman can ask a man to dance with her just as well. But to characterize Funny Face as a feminist film would be ridiculous in the means of exaggeration but Donen was, in many things, an American pioneer who took a stand for current issues. The significance of the scenes, in which romantic conventions are questioned and made fun of, is purely in the zeitgeist of Funny Face. It’s not feminism but a tone of the postwar transition to another era. The transformation from an intellectual to a fashion girl is, of course, silly and artificial but it can also be seen as a metamorphosis, made possible by love, from an unhappy loner to a joyful woman surrounded and loved by the world.

The satire of fashion, advertising and marketing works very well in the beginning of the film. The film starts with a number in which the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine sings how all women around the world must wear pink but still sticks to a grey suit herself. Later on the group of fashion people occupy a charming book store and leave it ravaged. After Jo the salesgirl gets an invitation to the fashion office, the designers and reporters literally tear some of her clothes of like wild beasts.

However, the transition to the Paris sequence, in which Jo meets a French existentialist philosopher who can’t resist female beauty, equals the degradation of both the satirical and the visual aspect. The excessive decoration begins to lose its effect. The description of Parisian existentialist coffeehouses is, of course, interesting when it comes to cultural history, but it seems to me that Donen nor anyone else of the film crew knew nothing about that particular subculture of France. Of course, the description is intentionally humorous but it also lacks severely on content.

Nonetheless, the satirical nature of Funny Face wonderfully culminates in the Paris sequence but in a gag which is aimed at the fashion world: the editor-in-chief proclaims the discreet charm and distinct presence of the new girl while chaotic disorder is heard behind the curtain. At the moment when “ladies and gentlemen I give you” is pronounced, the facade collapses and the destructive farce which hides behind the cloak of the fashion industry is revealed in all its glory.

Although the film is at times boldly ironic, the mockery hit against the fashion world is purely gentle and warm. Funny Face is never cynic and, therefore, the satire isn’t detrimental to the romance of the story. On one level, this contrast of romance and satire emerges as the counterpoint of wildness and restraint. The women tear the clothes of the protagonist. The untamed nature, behind the church, blooms as an expression of Jo and Dick’s love. Not to mention the picturesque facade of the fashion world and the faked photographs of unauthentic love.

Dick is, in fact, a character who only meets empty-headed models due to which he instantly falls in love with a smart girl. The reason for this is the fact that they are both lonely. They are trapped in their private hells of art — literature and photography — in which they can really talk to no one. The early discussion of “empathicalism” is put in practice on the level of the story as, in the end, Dick and Jo are both able to position each other on the same level. To feel what the other does, and even to fall in love. Silly? Perhaps but at least the pseudo-philosophical theme presented in the beginning wasn’t left unused and totally vacant.

There are a few scenes which highlight the nature of the two characters. The musical number How Long Has This Been Goin’ On where Jo mourns on her solitude and the scene in the narrow darkroom, in which Dick is developing close-ups of Jo’s face, form a fusion-like extreme close-up of loneliness and new love. Love which works as a kiss of life for both of them. The darkroom is the cinema. Oh, to fall in love in the drama of light. In this sense, the entire movie is built on faked photographs of unauthentic love. It’s not just the photos Dick takes but everything we observe on the screen is staged. We, as viewers, always tend to fall in love with fakery when sitting in the darkroom.

In the subsequent montage of photo shooting, reason and emotion, authenticity and presentation merge in an intriguing fashion. This vision climaxes later on in a romantic close-up of Jo’s tearful eyes while she is wearing a fake wedding dress. Now presentation can’t anymore be separated from true, authentic, painful reality. It is an extremely beautiful image and a lovely moment. The dreamlike impression of transient joy and the purifying but withering power of grief has been captured almost perfectly, which can save Funny Face from sinking into oblivion of light-hearted silliness.

Oh, the Jolly Julie Andrews

“The Sound of Music, one of the most viewed films of all times, is made in a big fashion. Those viewers who were fascinated by the Cinderella story, which included nuns, children, Nazis and Julie Andrews, were literally stunned (there were all of the four sufficiently), and they had to watch the film two or three times until they could settle down and go back to the safety of their normal lives.” (Ethan Mordden)

The Sound of Music (1965) is one of the most popular films ever made and has gained quite a reputation with an intense cult following. Back in the day, it was indeed a huge economical success and even won five Oscars. But, what is more, in the course of time, the film has aged very well and newer generations seem to have taken it to their hearts as well. However, not surprisingly while discussing a big hit like this, the film has faced a lot of criticism. Although, it is no masterpiece The Sound of Music is an intriguing film from a historical and cinematic perspective. The colours and landscape pans of Austria are gorgeous but beneath the nostalgic shell one can find several themes that will fascinate even a demanding viewer. Moreover, its setting is so absurd that it takes time to realize how absurd it actually is: during the years of the rising of the German national socialists; a jolly governess and a group of spoiled brats spend their time singing in the Alps.

The initial position of the film is, of course, horrible. But it must be accepted in order to get forward. It would be too easy to reject the film for the artificially cheery songs, too cute children and an idealistic bourgeois who bravely resists the Nazis. To top it all, the Nazis don’t sing because they are determined to lose. This idea can be associated with the philosophy of musical — searching for the meaning of life in the form of song. Nonetheless, one should keep in mind that for some people horror movies are difficult to watch because of their amount of gore and violence but, in turn, musicals are difficult for some viewers because of their amount of cheerful songs and light-hearted surface. In any case, one should try to break the ice and look behind the veil of the external image.

The film begins with wonderful landscape shots which set the spectator’s mind into a romantic tone. At last the camera reaches a woman (Julie Andrews) who sings the title song on a mountain. The opening credits start and images of Austrian architecture are shown to the viewer. Soon the viewer learns that the woman is Maria, who is cheery and dashing in every way but too blunt and inpatient to become a nun. She rather spends her time singing on the mountains than following the rules of the convent. Therefore, the abbess sends her as a governess to the family of von Trapp.

The father of the family (Christopher Plummer) is very strict and maintains order and discipline in the household. The mother has died and the father is always away, due to which the children lack attention and, therefore try to get it by teasing the governess. However, Maria’s arrival and her positive attitude change their behaviour. In the end, even the father softens. Soon, Maria and Georg (the father) begin to fall in love. But, unfortunately, Georg has already arranged a marriage with him and a baroness. After a few adversities the baroness gives in and Georg confesses his love to Maria, and they get married. Suddenly, Germany’s grip on Austria tightens and Georg should sign up to the army. To avoid this, the family decides to run away and, in the final image, they climb over the mountains to freedom in Switzerland.

The historical background of the story can be found from the late 1930’s. Already in 1932 the NSDAP had won the election and, a year later, Adolf Hitler received the powers of a dictator. In 1935 he took the civil rights away from the Jews and started to gather troops. In the following year, he slowly began to conquer the tribal nations of Germany: first he re-militarized Rhineland. Two years later he attached Sudetenland of Czech to Germany and then it was time for Austria. The west did nothing with its appeasement politics. This is the time The Sound of Music focuses on. However, it doesn’t attack on the reluctance of other nations’ to help but quite well portrays the growing fear in Europe; the beginning of horror to which one can only answer with a song.

Robert Wise, the director, who had already tried his skills in film-noir (Born to Kill, 1947), science fiction (The Day the Earth Stood Still, 1951) and musical (West Side Story, 1961) succeed very well in humanizing this unpleasant topic; which is, as a matter of fact, a lot when discussing a massive production like The Sound of Music. However, beneath the superficial surface many themes from politics to history; moral to love; and from the nature of reality to happiness can be found.

Already in the 1950-60’s Broadway musicals had brushed traditional “written directly to the screen musicals” aside. Most of these were empty and unimportant films, with only a few exceptions. The Sound of Music continued this trend but was the finest achievement of it while, at the same, put an end to it all. Between the years from Singin’ in the Rain (1952) to Cabaret (1972), The Sound of Music was the only good American musical. Surely many musicals of the time included nice songs and cute plots but anything cinematic they didn’t have to offer.

A film critic Geoff Andrew has highlighted how Nazism has been perceived in a more captivating manner in The Sound of Music, than in Cabaret which is often celebrated for its depiction of the gloomy morale of the time. The political aspect of The Sound of Music depicts the historical conditions of the rising of the Nazis in a consistent manner. In fact, Robert Wise found great cinematic counterparts to reflect a certain form of evil in the language of film; for, all this doesn’t feel banal because the series of events that lead to the rise of Nazism have been relayed to the viewer concretely. And, in reality, the corny songs are talented resistance.

For the radical left-wing, which rose up in the 1960’s, the film was of course too much. Too much merriment and joy. But in a historical sense the film was also about a new form of information sharing: to give knowledge of Nazism, the backgrounds of WWII and what had been won over, for the new generation. So the question remains: Is this propaganda? Perhaps. Is it bad propaganda? No chance.

At its heart, the film is a story about an individual who attempts to bring freedom to an authoritarian world. It condemns totalitarianism and violence and praises peace and individuality. Maria, of course, as a free spirited wild child represents the latter. God appears to her in the beauty of nature. She arrives to a new strict world when she enters the mansion. Even its architecture seems to represent high social status and hierarchy. But Maria fights back. In fact, The Sound of Music could be seen as a battle; the battle between reason and emotion. For, Georg is very rational where Maria, on the other hand, constantly relies on intuition and sensibility. Moreover, Georg is experienced and Maria innocent with regards to sexuality. The bike and rowing trips with the children are an essential part of nature’s dramaturgy and, therefore epitomize Maria’s consciousness where, in turn, the architecture of the mansion does Georg’s.

Above all, however the film is a growth story about: Maria’s maturation and Georg’s recovery — the strict severity caused by the wife’s death softens. So, in other words, emotion and reason collide and complete each other. In addition to Maria and Georg, this confrontation of reason and emotion is also highlighted by the presence of Germany (the tyranny) and Austria (the dear homeland); but also by reality and the unreality of musical; the latter offers sentimental chaos for the sterile order of the former, which is characterized by the gloomy morale of the national socialists.

As a matter of fact, towards this historical context, the criticism of the viewers was most strongly aimed at. Many saw the theme of Nazism quite useless and unimportant for the time. “Where’s Vietnam,” so to speak. This is a common critic many American films received in the 1960’s but the fact those people seem to have neglected is the allegorical approach to war. For even if the first American war films on Vietnam were made in the 1970’s, other genres touched the topic through allegorical stories — western being the most famous: The Wild Bunch (1969), The Good, The Bad and the Ugly (1966) and The Great Silence (1968).

In 1964 the Vietnam war had begun and a year later the States started the severe bombing and this most likely accelerated the theme of Nazism in the film. Many of the film’s moments and themes can actually be located into the context of Vietnam or any other war, which reinforces its allegorical nature. No matter whether it is intended or not, for each historical film is, unintentionally or intentionally, a reflection of two ages. One example is the wistful waltz Edelweiss, sung by Plummer, which tells about love for the father’s land and resistance to the Nazi tyranny. Let alone the film’s aesthetics of national romanticism. In addition, on a widely associative note, the film portrays a classical battle between good and evil; and deals with an important theme which exceeds the limits of all wars, nations and ages.: the pursuit of happiness in difficult circumstances.

However, all this is relayed to the viewer in an impressive fashion with strong architectonic vision. A film historian Peter von Bagh has written that Wise “turns verbal poetry into visual images” which quite well summarizes the visuals of The Sound of Music. Wise indeed analyzes the space brilliantly and enhances the nature of the milieu — the songs as only a natural part of it all. Unlike in many other musicals, they are no longer detrimental for the film. Few examples shall be mentioned of Wise’s talented direction: 1) The montage of dolls and facial expressions in the puppet show scene. 2) How choreography is used to accompany the Austrian-romantic architecture. 3) The wedding ceremony’s grandiose filming and how the breakaway from its grip truly can be felt. Last but not least, 4) the structure of the space is nearly perfect in the pavilion scene where Georg and Maria confess their love: the extreme expression of depth which is reinforced by the contrasts and windows; the beautiful silhouettes of the characters; the column-like shapes and strong shadows. It is an extremely romantic image that aptly embodies the spirit of the film’s aesthetics.

The Sound of Music is not as easy as it seems to be. Even though it is often categorized as a family movie. It is an intriguing look at historical conditions and the difficulty of happiness for both, the young and the old. Above all, nature is an inspiring force in the film which partly links it to the hippie movement of the time but, moreover highlights its themes of love and eternity. Love faces obstacles but, in the end, wins over. Although, the film is artificially cheery and sweet, it does deal with many important issues; even if in a more light-hearted sense: falling in love with its problems, love for one’s homeland, and the importance of emotions. In conclusion, The Sound of Music is a film about the triumph of endurance, love and freedom over the hardship of the world.

Divine Decadence or Grotesque Morale?

Musical. The genre of wishful thinking, optimism and cheerful attitude towards life. It is a ritualistic genre where man is allowed to move into another world. However, in many occasions, this false reality portrayed by musicals seems to turn into a horror-utopia. As it nearly does in On the Town (1949) by Gene Kelly and Stanley Donen where three layers of reality are gorgeously reflected on the levels of the town. What is more, the whole philosophy of film can be constructed on the act of singing, as in The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (1964) and, of course, in Alain Resnais’ Same Old Song (1997) — the deconstruction of musical — where the characters are anguished, desperate and doomed to sing the same old song until they die. Yet, none of these seem to be as horrifying as Bob Fosse’s Cabaret (1972) starring Liza Minelli, which fills me with both fascination and irritation.

Back in the day, Cabaret was drown with praises and awards — eight Oscars and three Golden Globes. It was a big hit and is still today considered as one of the finest musicals ever made. It has succeed to record images to our consciousness regarding what life was like in the Weimar Republic, right before the rise of NSDAP. Even as a weaker film, Cabaret must be acknowledged among the finest musicals, alongside with The Sound of Music (1965), of its era. The era when American film industry began to fall apart. In any case, Cabaret is a film with its flaws but what is most interesting in it is its historical period picture.

The film begins with a mirror view of a cabaret; and the viewer is instantly invited to the world of joy and oblivion — “Leave your troubles outside, life is disappointing, forget it!” In fact, Cabaret is a mirror reflection itself; a reflection of a world at transition; Europe on the eve of the rise of Nazism. Soon the story is introduced to us: an American club dancer entertains crowds in Berlin at the beginning of the 30’s and starts a love affair with two men. The story is rather thin, and intelligently simplistic but, to my mind, the most intriguing thing is how this story line reflects the zeitgeist and the gloomy morale of the Nazis.

However, by the word “horrifying” I wasn’t referring to the film’s story but more likely to its outward appearance and its unity with its cinematic value. The latter remains quite low and the film is really a farce. To be honest, it’s quite a poor film in comparison with The Sound of Music, for instance. Nonetheless, this seems to be the reason why the film has gained such a reputation. For it first looks like a horribly silly musical. But then it turns out that there lies its essential being: the innocence of musical reveals itself as a horrifying and disgusting piece of reality.

First of all, the central milieu of the story is a cabaret and the songs sung there are strongly tied to the film: “money makes the world go around,” “life is a cabaret,” “two ladies and one man,” “if you could only see her with my eyes.” The latter, which portrays a man and an ape in love, is, in all its tackiness, funny and naively simplistic. In fact, here one can find the biggest flaw of the movie. In its structure and how, at times, it is extremely self-evident; even banal in its metaphorical nature.

Yet, the grotesqueness of the film is really both delightful and horrible — the montage of attractions where a show and a violent act performed by the Nazis are associated with each other, for example. In the light of this, we see how Cabaret deals with friendship and love, happiness and freedom; but also portrays a decadent world where all of these have turned upside down, into malignancy and violence, oppression and anxiety, all of which have taken over the reality.

With regards to the performances of the film, an essential observation is that the grotesque eroticism of the cabaret equals the decadent morale of the Nazis. Due to this, most interesting in Cabaret is its historical context and how it is also a picture of the 70’s. How it has drawn intriguing parallels between the past and the presence: the burlesque — the disco; gay culture, civil rights and the feminist liberalization. However, not in the sense of comparison, of course.

In the end of the film, we return to the beginning; to the reality — “Didn’t you forget all about your troubles?” — and see the mirror view once again, through a tracking shot. The camera stops by an elusive reflection; an illusion from which we cannot distinguish anything but the faceless Nazi officers. This awakes a strong thought of Cabaret as a “meta-musical” for it truly achieves to describe how transient happiness is, in the middle of chaos, suffering and destruction.

on IMDb

Musical: A Horror-Utopia

A few days ago I saw Same Old Song (1997) by Alain Resnais and I liked it a lot. Probably the reason why I enjoyed it so much was that it could be seen as a travesty of musicals, and it achieved to bring something new to this dead genre. The genre is one of the rare ones which I find it difficult to relate. I feel that I can’t get that much from them, as I can’t from horror nor sci-fi. By this I don’t mean that I wouldn’t like these particular films. I like them, and everything related to cinema fascinates me, but for some reason I find it harder to get something out of these genres than I do from… let’s say melodrama, romantic comedy, western, neo-realism or documentary.

To me musical has always represented a horror-utopia. It’s supposed to be a genre of wishful thinking, optimism, cheer and juvenile joy. But to me it seems a little scary, and I’m glad Resnais feels the same! He destroyes all the cliches and shows the distressing agony below the surface - all the optimism and happiness is just fake, an act and window dressing.

So whatever the reason was what made me like Same Old Song, the fact is that I like it, quite a lot. Alain Resnais did the same Hitchcock and Fellini had done; combined certain experimentalism with subtle populism. Here’s my review of Same Old Song: a film portraying a horror-utopia that even Fritz Lang’s Metropolis can’t compete with.

Alain Resnais was at the age of 76 when he made his first musical, and to be honest he might just be the last filmmaker I would’ve guessed to make a musical - even that music has always played a huge part in his films. Alain Resnais was one of the most essential auteurs of the French new wave in early 1960’s, during which he got a reputation as an experimental filmmaker by making Hiroshima mon amour (1959) and Last Year at Marienbad (1961) - who would’ve thought that a man who made these tragic, ambiguous films was going to make a musical? To my mind, through Same Old Song (1997) Resnais achieved the same Hitchcock did; combining experimentalism and populism — the film was drowned by Cesar awards.

In my opinion Same Old Song is the best musical made after the 1960’s. Just like western and film-noir so has this genre died. But luckily someone was still able to bring something new to it. Same Old Song is and is not a musical. In the genre wishful thinking, better and dreamed ego, hopes for a better world and existence are combined. From this perspective Same Old Song is a musical but this idyllic joy is destroyed by showing the actual agony and depression that possess the characters. In the film the characters sing in appropriate and inappropriate situations; the music comes from a tape and it doesn’t necessarily fit into the mouth of the singer. A young lady can sing throaty and loudly, and a German officer can burst out to a falsetto.

In the beginning there is a Resnaisian leap of time: 50 years, from WWII to the lives of the regardless and ignorant bourgeoisie of today. The reality is very elusive, nothing and no one is what they first seem to be: the inappropriate songs. The characters aren’t living in harmony with each other nor with themselves, what the idyllic songs seem to reinforce - it’s all a lie, fake, window dressing.

The characters sing classics by Edith Piaf, Serge Gainsbourg and Charles Trenet — same old songs. “No one in our world can sing songs throughly anymore.” (Alain Resnais) So all the songs are association; we only here brief fragments from them and this idea works brilliantly. The songs/ideas remain undone and the characters don’t empathize. An old Avantgardist goes deeper into the core of art, not by adding but by erasing and simplifying.

Same Old Song could be seen as a parody or a travesty of musicals as the artificial joy wins. But it also has a social dimension; depicting the illusion of bourgeois happiness. The ostensible joy of the same old songs hides the depression, tiredness and panic disorders: “How long does depression last?, - ‘Mine has lasted for four years.’” The things of everyday life, falling in love, decent life bury the actual fears of reality. The characters eat a lot and go to cocktail-parties, they don’t really know who they are. The postmodern architecture represents the rootlessness of the characters and the vacancy of their lives — Alain Resnais continued from here in his later film Coeurs (2006), which is the best romantic comedy made in decades.

An obscure agony characterizes the city the characters live in. The singing society and artificial happiness are like a horror-utopia — to which not even some of the finest science fictions can’t be compared to. Some of the characters realize their agony, share it and move on. But the others continue their artificial idyllic life — singing with no worries.

My review of Same Old Song on IMDb