Erika Morphy of E-Commerce times asked me the same question, and as I told her, “YouTube encourages the viewer, more than other sites, to constantly keep clicking from one image source to the next, and with many of the ads starting automatically at the top of the video — though some have a five second ‘opt out’ feature — the temptation to click on the video to see what it might offer is almost overwhelming. Viewers essentially see ads on YouTube as another video, rather than being a commercial — just another video to click on and view. In a world which exists entirely through clicks, the viewer just keeps on hitting the next button, and then the next, until the entire site becomes a seamless blend of content and commercial advertising.”
For some reason, I am thinking of Aldous Huxley today.
He probably wrote too much, as he well knew, but in his best writings, which are scattered throughout his life, he penetrated the false fabric of society which is thrown up for all of us to admire, and was, of course, along with George Orwell, one of the first to fully understand and articulate the very real dangers of living in a detached, technologically driven society.
Everyone knows Brave New World as an instant catch-phrase used to suggest a Dystopian future, but if they read the novel thoughtfully, along with some of his other works, such as the essays from his lecture series The Human Situation, collected after his death and published posthumously as a slim but deeply insightful volume, as well as Brave New World Revisited, and skip his final novel Island, they will find someone who knew a great deal about the lure of technological progress as a genuine danger to one’s own humanity, and humanity in general.
In one of his last pieces of writing, “Shakespeare and Religion,” he summarized a lifetime of work along these lines by stating that “the world is an illusion, but it is an illusion, which we must take seriously, because it is real as far as it goes, and in those aspects of the reality, which we are capable of apprehending. Our business is to wake up. We have to find ways in which to detect the whole of reality in the one illusory parts which our self-centered consciousness permit us to see. We must not live thoughtlessly, taking our illusion for the complete reality, but at the same time we must not live too thoughtfully in the sense of trying to escape from the dream state.
We must continually be on the watch for ways in which we may enlarge our consciousness, we must not attempt to live outside the world, which is given us, but we must somehow learn how to transform it and transfigure it. Too much ‘wisdom’ is as bad as too little wisdom, and there must be no magic tricks. We must learn to come to reality without the enchanter’s wand and his book of the words. One must find a way of being in this world while not being of it. A way of living in time without being completely swallowed up in time.”
In time, or impassive technology – which knows everything about us, but can teach us nothing at all.
As I write, in part, “What are we watching now at the movies, or on television or Netflix for that matter? Serials – though now they’re called franchises, or mini-series, or ‘cable dramas,’ but they have the same structure, and the same limitations, the same narrative predictability. What will happen, for example, in the next episode of Game of Thrones? Who will be slaughtered, who will survive, who will make yet another grab for power? What scheme will the fictional Walter White (Bryan Cranston) come up with in the next episode of the recently concluded Breaking Bad? You’ll just have to tune in next week and find out, because all we’re leaving you with this week is an open ended ‘conclusion’ – whatever happens next, we’re not telling. But then again, when the trap is finally sprung, are the results all that surprising? Yet you keep coming back, week after week. You can’t stop watching . . .
And yet, unlike any other structural format in commercial cinema, even the theatrical cartoon, the original iteration of the motion picture serial has vanished from contemporary view. Nevertheless, when one compares both the overall narrative structure of these chapter plays, as well as the elaborate fight scenes, exoticist sets, and – despite what some may say – the absolutely one-dimensional nature of the characters, one can easily see where the films in the current Marvel or DC ‘universe’ came from – starting, of course, with the original Star Wars film in 1977, which was transparently formatted as a serial, replete with opening crawl title receding endlessly into infinity, and even an “episode number,” as if the entire film was just one section of a sprawling epic – which indeed it ultimately was.
Comic-Con, which now dominates the commercial film industry, with, for the most part the empty escapism of such films as James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) – the runaway hit of the current summer – doesn’t want to admit it, but the truth of the matter is that these are films for children, as the serials were, and were relegated, in the 1940s and 50s, to Saturday morning entertainment. No one who made them had any illusions about them, and though they contained both the template for most contemporary Hollywood action and superhero films, they were designed to exist at the margins of the theatrical world, as something for adolescents to view before moving on to more demanding fare. Today, that more ‘demanding’ cinema has all but vanished, as comic book cinema moves to the mainstream, and erases nearly everything else.”
Am I big David Fincher fan? No. But these four thirty second spots — shot with Fincher’s usual William Wyler-esque “forty takes” style of doing it over and over again until he gets precisely what he wants, are haunting, understated, and most interestingly for me, all the more compelling because they are in black and white.
I’m writing a book on black and white cinematography right now, and one of my central arguments is that black and white creates a world apart from the “all color” world we inhabit by the simple act of shooting in monochrome. There’s an immediate transformation of reality into something else, something moody and stylized, and that’s really the case here. This is a great use of black and white, and we should have more of it – in theatrical features, please, and not just commercials.
As Todd Wassermann reported in Mashable, “David Fincher, best known for his obsessive and meticulous direction of The Social Network, Zodiac and Fight Club, has helmed the latest round of ads for Gap, which are shot in black and white and strive to be enigmatic. The four ads, which roll out next week, complement a print campaign the retailer launched in mid-August . . . [and] feature Anjelica Huston, Elisabeth Moss and The Wire’s Michael K. Williams, among others.
Seth Farbman, Gap’s global CMO, told Mashable that the tagline was meant to be a ‘gentle provocation, in a way’ and are designed to connected with Millennials who are ‘pushing back on some of the chaos’ in their lives, some of which is driven by technology . . . The Fincher ads were created with that positioning in mind. However, they aren’t anthemic. Instead, they’re a bit cryptic and generate an atmosphere rather than tell a complete story. As Farbman puts it, they sort of jump into the middle of the story, skipping the beginning and leaving out the end.”
As I write, in part, “People would much rather watch from the comfort and safety of their living rooms than trek out to the theater for anything other than the most immersive spectacle; the clearest evidence of this is the complete collapse of video rental stores, even in such major cities as New York, a metropolis of eight million people, which seemingly can’t sustain more than few revival houses, and only one or two video rental locations, even though they offer the kinds of films you’re not likely to find on Netflix.
Why go out when you can have the images delivered with a touch of a button? Why bother to seek out anything new when there’s seemingly so much product – all of it pretty much the same, even the supposed ‘indies’ – available on demand? You don’t need to do any exploring. We’ll do it for you, and not only that – we’ll put the films in nice little slots like ‘foreign’ or ‘indie,’ thus ensuring a miniscule audience. Along these lines, the Amazon ’suggestion’ feature on their website continues to amaze me, because of its utter lack of discrimination.
If you order one DVD of a French film, suddenly they recommend nothing but French films for you; order one Barbara Stanwyck film, and they think you’re only interested in films in which she stars; order a gothic thriller, and you’re inundated with offers for like material. Erase all of these possible options, and the suggestion engine comes up blank – it can’t figure you out. How come you like so many different kinds of films? Where’s the thread here that they can track? Why won’t you stick to a predictable pattern? And why do you want a DVD anyway, when there are these great films to stream, so easily, at the touch of a button?”
Actually, the film exists in two versions; the complete film, originally entitled Wild For Kicks, and the American re-cut, shortened by about thirty minutes, entitled Beat Girl. For once, the re-cut is the better version; the original has a whole lot of unnecessary backstory, and the American version just plows right into the adventures of Gillian Hills (seen in the image above) and her gang.
Ruthlessly exploitational, the film nevertheless boasts a truly amazing array of talent, from The John Barry Seven (yes, that John Barry) performing the title track as well as the incidental music throughout the film, as well as (get ready) Oliver Reed, Nigel Green, Christopher Lee (yes, that Christopher Lee), Adam Faith, Shirley Anne Field, Peter McEnery and numerous others, and was scripted by Eric Ambler’s son, Dail Ambler.
The plot of the film is simplicity in its extreme: Jennifer (Gillian Hills, who later appeared in Blowup and A Clockwork Orange) is bored, bored, bored, and just wants to have fun. With her nightclub pals, she roams the streets of London looking for action, finding it, and regretting it. Christopher Lee is marvelous to watch as the villainous nightclub owner who figures heavily in the film’s narrative, and Oliver Reed, just out of his teens when the film was shot, turns in a fabulous performance as one of her acolytes.
The director, Edmond T. Gréville, was French, and this was one of his last works; Gréville started his career working on Abel Gance’s epic film Napoleon (1927), and in truth, by this time, was in fairly desperate straits. But though the film ultimately falls apart at the seams, in its embrace of youthful rebellion, and the punk ethos long before anyone knew there was such a thing, Beat Girl — the American re-cut only, please — is a nifty slice of hardboiled teen cinema, as the credits above (click on the image to see them) aptly demonstrate.
I walked in the door, looking for a job, and Bill was just a young and up-and-coming comic in those days, looking for his big shot. We met in an editing room, where I was auditioning for a job as an editor, which I eventually got, and my first assignment was to help Bill cut the demo reel for a short film entitled “The World’s Largest Car Wash,” directed by the late Harold Ramis, in which Bill played two characters; a fast talking sharpie on an “on” ramp overlooking the LA freeway, pretending that all the cars were coming to his car wash; and a sort of precursor to his character in Groundhog Day, his idiot brother, who actually ran the business. It was about four minutes long, we cut it in a matter of hours, it came out quite well, and of course, he got the job.
We were all working at TVTV, short for Top Value Television, where Bill was joined by Harold Ramis, Michael Shamberg and a host of other talented people who were creating off the wall television that was way ahead of the norms of the era. Bill, of course, went on to SNL, and thence to a whole string of movies, which gradually became deeper as he went along in his career, with films like Broken Flowers, Lost in Translation, and his latest film, St. Vincent. His powers as an actor have only grown over the years, and he’s doing some of the best work of his entire career right now.
As is well known, Bill marches to a very different drummer, and has no agent or contact in LA, just a 1 800 telephone number where hopefuls can leave messages to try and get him for their films, which eventually leads to actual contact if Bill thinks the project is right. For St. Vincent, it was a long and arduous process to get him to come on board, for as the director Theodore Melfi told Entertainment Weekly writer Anthony Breznican “you know what the truth is? You don’t find Bill Murray. Bill Murray finds you.”
As Melfi told Breznican, Murray “finds everything he’s supposed to be involved in by not chasing anything. If it’s supposed to happen, the person will hound him until it happens, or he’ll run into them at a bar or restaurant. He has a zen-like protocol in regard to what he does and doesn’t do.” Oh, and the last time I saw Bill was in 1980, so don’t ask me how to get in touch with him. I don’t know!
As John Anderson writes in The New York Times, “the Midtown Manhattan building that houses DuArt, the premiere hatchery of American independent cinema for about 70 years, is 12 stories high. The elevator only goes to the 11th floor. To reach DuArt’s rooms of wonder, you need to take the stairs.
On the top floor, in one musty, institutional-green room after another, hundreds of film cans are stacked, floor to ceiling, each negative bearing the name of a long-gone production company, an obscure director or a title that may as well read ‘Dead End.’ This repository of broken dreams is also an orphanage, for movies awaiting adoption. Who made all these films? DuArt wonders the same thing.
With the rise of digital filmmaking and the subsequent demise of celluloid, DuArt in 2010 closed its photochemical division, which developed negatives and struck prints. At that point, DuArt had about 60,000 cans of film in its warren of vaults.
‘I have trouble throwing away film,’ the company’s chairman, Irwin Young, said. His father founded the company in 1922. ‘We never threw anything away. It’s because we were film people.’
Films by Woody Allen, James Ivory, Ang Lee, Gordon Parks, Tom DiCillo, Spike Lee, Susan Seidelman and more have been spoken for, but others remain unclaimed and the trail has gone cold on many of them, said Steve Blakely, a former DuArt vice president who has continued to track down filmmakers since 2010.”
As he writes of a recent trip to the Boston Museum of Science, “kids will surely be charmed by the 8½-minute Dora & Diego’s 4-D Adventure, another of the museum’s 4-D shorts. When Boots the monkey peels his banana, the theater fills both with yellow light and the distinct odor of (artificial) banana. Wind machines and falling snowflakes make a propeller plane ride to the Arctic all the more delightful.
But to my mind, some tricks, like that Shallow Seas tentacular ‘ankle tickler’ (a thin plastic hose under each theater seat that flaps back and forth when activated by a blast of air) or the ‘back poke’ effect (when sea snakes swim on screen, a secret jab from your seat back triggers your ’startle reflex’), seem more at home in a horror film or haunted house ride, not an educational science film.
Others agree. ‘So-called 4-D cinema is just a gimmick,’ said Wheeler Winston Dixon, a professor of film studies at the University of Nebraska Lincoln. ‘It’s a desperate ploy that has its roots in the 1950s movie theaters trying to get patrons away from their televisions, only now it’s Netflix.’ The sheer novelty, ‘will soon wear off,’ he says. ‘It won’t work.’
Indeed, for decades, directors and theater owners have used various tricks to combat moviegoer apathy. Scent of Mystery (1960) employed ‘Smell-O-Vision’ (pumped-in aromas synchronized to various scenes) and The Tingler (1959) tried ‘Percepto’ (seats that gave patrons mild electric shocks); both were released as television began to dominate leisure time.
Next up, Sensurround, which made theaters shake during films like 1974’s Earthquake. In recent years, Hollywood’s embrace of 3-D has coincided with the proliferation of giant-screen TVs and in-home theaters. Luxury seating, in-seat dining, and films shot at 48 frames-per-second are other ways cinemas are trying to address plummeting box office and make a night at the movies, or a school field trip, a destination event once again.”
As Todd Leopold writes in today’s CNN.com, “the streaming and DVD service [Netflix] knows what you’ve rented and streamed and how long it took you to watch. It knows what genres you like and what performers you prefer. Who knows? It may even have an idea whether you prefer your popcorn lightly salted or slathered with butter. (Don’t want the rest of the world to know? It’s also testing a privacy mode.)
It has taken this knowledge and managed to produce a few hits of its own — not just with audiences, but also within the industry. Netflix is having a moment. Its series, such as House of Cards and Orange Is the New Black, recently picked up 31 Emmy nominations. Wall Street approves of the strategy, having bid up Netflix’s share price 10-fold in the last five years.
And the audience? Netflix just announced it has cracked 50 million subscribers, more than double the number it had just four years ago. It has taken some old showbiz lessons — trust the creatives, budget them appropriately — and added some new twists: Binge-watching. Deep data mining. Exploiting the catalog as if there were nowhere else to go.
Can it maintain its dominance? It wasn’t so long ago that the place was posting losses and alienating customers. Pop culture doesn’t sit still, and neither does business. Netflix, which helped drive Blockbuster into oblivion, has to watch challenges from distributors such as Amazon and Hulu — not to mention stay friendly with content providers like movie studios.”
About the Author
Wheeler Winston Dixon, Ryan Professor of Film Studies at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, is an internationally recognized scholar and writer of film history, theory and criticism. He is the author of numerous books and more than 70 articles on film and appears regularly in national media outlets discussing film and culture trends. Frame by Frame is a collection of his thoughts on a number of those topics. To contact Prof. Dixon for an interview, reach him at 402.472.6064 or email@example.com.
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In The National News
National media outlets featured and cited Wheeler Winston Dixon on a number of topics in the past month. Find out more on the website http://newsroom.unl.edu/inthenews/