Before Sound

Before Sound

By: Benjamin Kandt

            Before sound, before color, there was just the camera and what was placed in front it. Shots were organized around what was being presented to the viewer. As film has developed, this has been the mainstream (Hollywood) method of shooting, where the audience's attention is directed to specific pieces of a scene edit by edit. This isn't a universal approach however, in Hou Hsiao-Hsien's films, what isn't present is often more important that what is. But John Woo's highly stylized editing for his action films does accord with this approach. Obviously, as one of the fundamental aspects of  film, frame construction is important, but what kind of impact does the method of implementation have upon the viewer?

Figure 1: Close up of Chow Yun-Fat

Figure 2: Highlighting the similarity of the heroes

     Let's start with the more standard director, John Woo. The Killer (1989) is a story of a hit-man growing a conscious, and trying to make amends through one last job. The editing style of the movie uses cutting techniques like shot counter-shot, the reaction shot and close ups.  Shot counter shot simulates conversation, alternating who the audience ought to be listening to, the reaction shot helps frame how the audience should be feeling about events on screen, and close-ups allow actors the total attention of the audience in order to convey their emotions.[1] An example of these elements combined can be found in the Dragon Boat Assassination sequence.[2] This part was personally edited by John Woo, when the editor wasn't sure what to do with it, and it took Woo three weeks to complete. There are three separate narratives woven together in this scene, and it switches between each as the action develops. The interplay between the edited scenes builds a ominous tension. Just before Jeff (Chow Yun-Fat) fires the shot, there is a back and forth between a close up of a drum roll and Jeff's face. The two images replace each other in shorter and faster intervals, until Jeff fires.

            The same editing method is also used to establish the relationship between Chow's character and the cop played by Danny Lee. "I wanted to shoot it at the same angle, and put them in the same position and almost use the same line and camera movements, the same cutting, just try to try to [sp] show them have the same feeling..."[3] Woo uses editing to underline the doubleness, the mirror-imaging, of the two main characters.[4] If Woo were deprived of the chance to edit in this fashion, he would lose the ability to create his chase scenes, his duplicated characters, his conversations. They all revolve around showing events from at least two different vantage points, something impossible from an individual's perspective. It seems as though Woo plays at God when he films, by attempting omniscience. When filming Hard Boiled (1992), Woo said, "we had more than fifteen bombs going off everywhere, and we had seven cameras set up in different positions"[5] This is one limitation of his style, in that to create a connected narrative, he needs to be able to hop between perspectives in a way that doesn't disorient the viewer, but that still shows what he wants to convey. Using so much film and editing down to so little allows Woo to clearly present his case, but is very expensive.

            With a very different budget and aesthetic in mind, Hou Hsiao-Hsien works from a single viewpoint, usually objective, and lets the camera roll for a long time. He does this for stylistic and practical reasons. Filming long shots is cheaper, easier to edit, and distance is forgiving if your actors aren't very good with close ups.

"Amateur actors are often very nervous in close-ups... I let them [the nonactors] use what they were familiar with - their usual habits and gestures - so that they need not "act": for example, having a meal or smoking in sunlight and so forth. In order to not make them nervous, I would deliberately put the camera quite a long distance away, and not move it."[6]

Figure 3: Hao-Hao obscured behind door

Figure 4: Shu Qi obscured by objects on table

Millennium Mambo(2001) contains dense mis-en-scene, and organizes itself in an chronologically ambiguous way. It results in a film that seems disordered and lost in time, mirroring the states of its characters. The chronology, narration and camerawork combine to disorient the viewer and alienate the inattentive. The narration talks about things that don't show up until later, and the camera is slow in tracking action. This style attempts to offer the audience an insight into the mind of the narrator, who can't put the events in that period of her life in the correct order any more than the viewer can. To compound these distancing details, Hou often works with a telephoto lens[7], which is how he can produce highly focused shots even from a great distance. This results in a dense, almost cluttered mis-en-scene because the long lens minimizes the size differences of objects on different planes. Minor action passing in the foreground or background gains more prominence by being nearly the same size as the shot's prime subject.[8] This can be seen in Figures 3 and 4, both capturing a view of the bedroom and objects on the table, with the actors in between, and obscured by the foreground. This causes irrelevant actions and objects to have the same focus as that of everything else, creating a need for careful attention on the part of  the observer in order to comprehend the narrative. "In... The Flowers of Shanghai, by Hou Hsiao Hsien, a character commits suicide in the background of the shot, and it is entirely possible the viewer will miss it because they have been focusing on what is going on in the foreground."[9]

            In contrast with the guided tour given by John Woo, Hou allows for exploration on the part of the viewer. Instead of rigidly taking the viewer along, Hou offers obstacles and distractions; He forces the audience to work for it. While Woo attempts to remove the obstacles that a limited perspective imposes, Hou embraces these, and uses them to his advantage.[10] A downside of this is that Hou's method has a much harder time building tension, and must do so through silence, as opposed to the visual cues offered by Woo. Woo's method allows for the telling of multiple stories, while Hou's is limited to what is on screen in his long shots. Despite having multiple stories told synchronously, Woo's style never lets us find ourselves within the world he creates, instead giving us only what he needs to in order to get his story across. Hou on the other hand, spends time creating what he presents, in order to give it more of a sense of existence, rather than performance. The extra time that Hou 'wastes' is actually refusing to frame the film in the way of stories designed for passive consumption, and casts the audience in a role as that of the peeping tom looking in on other people's problems. In short, Hou's films make us think and savor, while Woo's films taste good, but only last for a moment.

Bibliography

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Berry, Michael, Tianwen Zhu, and Hsiao-hsien Hou. "Words and Images: A Conversation with Hou Hsiao-hsien and Chu T'ien-wen." East Asia Cultures Critique. 11.3 (2003): 675-716. Web. 9 Dec. 2013.

Bordwell, David. Figures Traced in Light: On Cinematic Staging. Berkley and Los Angeles, California: University of Califronia Press, 2005. Web. <http://books.google.com/books?id=T2aWxNkBP5EC&dq=david bordwell&source=gbs_navlinks_s>.

Elder, Robert K. John Woo: Interviews. First Edition. University Press of Mississippi, 2005. Print.

Hall, Kenneth. John Woo: The Films. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company Inc., 1999. Print.

Hou, Hsiao-Hsien, dir. Millenium Mambo. 2001. Film. 9 Dec 2013.

McKibbin, Tony. "Cinema Style: notes." Tony McKibben. N.p., n. d. Web. 9 Dec. 2013. <http://tonymckibbin.com/course-notes/cinema-style>.

Warner, Charles. "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: Hou Hsiao-hsien’s Optics of Ephemerality." Senses of Cinema. 39 (2006): n. page. Web. 9 Dec. 2013. <http://sensesofcinema.com/2006/39/hou_optics_ephemerality/>.

Woo, John, dir. The Killer. 1998. Film. 9 Dec 2013.

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[1] Elder, John Woo Interviews, 77

[2] Woo The Killer (1989)23:00 - 29:00

[3] Elder, John Woo Interviews, 77

[4] Hall, John Woo: The Films. pg. 123

[5] Elder, John Woo Interviews, 123

[6] Bordwell, Figures Traced in Light, 198

[7] Bordwell, Figures Traced in Light, 195

[8] Bordwell, Figures Traced in Light, 196

[9] McKibbin, http://tonymckibbin.com/course-notes/cinema-style

[10] Berry, Words and Images, 694

As part of this project, a low budget ($0) film was created to examine the effects of filming a similar scene from the two different styles would produce. The first thing I realized was that my budget was too small to create a work that would stand on its own. Nevertheless, here it is.

Culinary Connections

Growing up is never easy, and sometimes it can seem like life is just piling problems on. For the character Chu Jia-Chien, in Eat, Drink, Man, Woman(1994) this is indeed the case. From a promotion that may or may not be good, being swindled out of your life savings, seeing your sisters marry in a rush to escape the house of your father, your favorite uncle dying, your some-time boyfriend some-time casual lover getting married and hoping to still be intimate with you, discovering your sister has been lying about heartbreak for 9 years, and all of this on top of an already tense relationship with your father, and how would you feel trying to manage it all?

Though this film focuses on the lives of 4 central characters, the most tragic figure, and the one who has the least to be happy about in the resolution, is Jia-Chien. I was struck by how enduring her character really is. In the end, she's left with no home, no money, a father with a new wife, sisters with husbands, and a flight out of the country to a job undoubtedly full of its own stress and tension. Her only friend is the very man her sister claimed to have had her heart broken by. Despite all of that, she still manages to smile, still tries to reach her father, and through her perseverance (and a generous dash of ginger) she manages to finally earn her father’s approval. Jia-Chien is a woman trapped in her own loneliness, and only through cooking can she escape and connect with others.

Jia-Chien’s day-to-day life is so far removed from her other sisters and father that they never even appear together, except for in the house, and when paying respects to Old Wen. Though surrounded by people, Chu Jia-Chien is utterly alone. She can’t talk to her family, either they cut her off mid-sentence, or they have something else more important going on. She has no close friends, just an ex-boyfriend that she seeks out for physical comfort, for company. I doubt her family even know who Raymond is. Such removal on the part of her family leads to loneliness, which is why she continues to seek out Raymond, since he’s the only person she can talk to. Raymond however, is only interested in their physical relationship, having left their earlier, emotional one by the wayside. In their modern, understanding relationship, Raymond is free to do as he pleases, as, of course, Jia-Chien is also. The difference is in the fact that Jia-Chien knows almost no one else. She never talks to her older friends, as evinced in the scene where as she was leaving a message on her friend’s voicemail about how long it had been and her office was invaded by well-wishing coworkers. Her work comes between her and other relationships as well, when she could be playing with Shan-Shan, instead she’s inside working on a computer, working so hard even, that she doesn’t sleep in her bed, but on the desk.  The exception to this rule of relationships is Li Kai. Handsome, intelligent and skilled, always knowing the right, witty thing to say, he is the ideal male figure Jia-Chien yearns for. But he caused her sister Jia-Jen’s heartbreak, so she refuses his advances in a frantic scene of almost-lovemaking. This dedication to family, despite her alienation, her desperate need for company, for intimacy with someone that cares, shows what is most important to her.

Her family doesn’t always show the same dedication. Like the traffic-directing cop in the juxtaposed shots of the hustle and bustle of cars and scooters in the streets of Taibei, she is surrounded by excitement, traveling people, and yet unmoved by it all, uninvolved. By raising the subject of moving out of the house, she gives the green-light to her sisters, who both manage to leave before she does. She has a promotion offered, but has to decide whether to go straight and fly halfway across the world, or turn left and stay at home to care for her father, who ends up leaving her first. Raymond’s offer to continue with their ‘friendship’ status after his marriage gets a big red light.  She is trying to direct the traffic of her life, but in doing so, trapping herself in the center of it.

The one act that allows her self-expression, that allows her to feel connections, is cooking. She feels that she can’t do this at home, she feels her father would not let her, for fear of ‘stealing his thunder’. So she goes to Raymond, and cooks enough food for 10 people, talking the entire time about how to cook this and that and what the next dish is. Her facial expression while cooking is so joyous, so different from the typical stoic half-frown she wears. She says, after finishing cooking, that she only remembers her childhood when she cooks up the memories, and tells a story about her father giving her a ring made of bread, and how happy she was that Jia-Jen was so jealous of her. Raymond, typically, jokes about it and offends her, the beginning of the deterioration of their ‘friendship’. Further on, when Old Wen is in the hospital and Jia-Chien comes to visit, it is revealed that her father kicked her out of the kitchen in order to push her to attend college. She never quite forgave him for exiling her from her place of happiness. Once Old Wen passes on, Jia-Chien is alone in the kitchen, getting water for her father, since he can’t taste the flavor in the tea anyway. While there, she glances over the various kitchen knives, the ingredients in the cupboard, the meats and spices hanging up from the ceiling. Though she doesn’t show any emotion here, the sequence reveals a longing in her to cook with the tools in that kitchen. And in fact, after the big announcement is made, she gets to do just that. 

In one of the final scenes, we see Jia-Chien making pancakes, and smiling broadly. And in the final scene, she returns to her father his sense of taste, using a recipe of her mother’s design. This last moment, the breaking through of loneliness, is because of her cooking.