Split I Screen

In X-Men: First Class, the typical rookie training montage has an added stylistic element: the spilt screen. Normally, the montage is used to condense the weeks of training in “real” time into minutes in film time. While a montage alone can be used to show multiple characters training at the same time, the split screen depicts this more effectively. So we see Beast trying to outrun Professor X on one side of the screen while we see Banshee trying to use his supersonic voice to propel himself to fly on the other side of the screen. Not only does the split screen effect gives the training montage a fresh visual perspective but also gives a nod to the comic book layout.

Other films have used split screens to give the audience the experience of viewing simultaneous events. Here are my favorite uses of the split screen:

Pillow Talk

The split screens used in this film visually depict Brad Allen (Rock Hudson) and Jan Morrow (Doris Day) sharing their telephone line. Jan hates the fact that she has to share a telephone line with a womanizer like Brad. In this still image, she interrupts one of the many calls that Brad makes to one of his many lovers. Note that Jan Morrow is at the center of the frame placing her in the dominant position as the main female protagonist as well as Brad Allen’s main love interest.

(For the Da Vinci Code fans out there, notice that Jan’s section is in the shape of the chalice which further suggests that she is the dominant female in the film.)

Down With Love

This film is a tribute to the Doris Day/Rock Hudson sex comedies. However, the film puts a modern-day twist by making the sexual innuendos more overt. Here the split screen takes two innocuous activities, Catcher (Ewan McGregor) drying himself with a towel and Barbara (Renee Zellweger) cleaning her sunglasses, and puts them together to make it look like she is giving him a blow job while they are discussing their date plans.

(500) Days of Summer

This film uses the split screen effect towards the end of the film. The left side of the screen shows what Tom (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) expects to happen when he arrives at Summer’s (Zooey Deschanel) apartment while the right side shows what actually happens. Sometimes the expectations and the reality are the same but other times they differ. In the still image, we see Tom expecting that he and Summer will blissfully reunite and we see him alone in reality. Then reality literally wipes away the fantasy when Tom discovers that Summer is now engaged.

At first I was confused by the placement of the expectation side. I remembered that the left side of the brain is the logical side while the right side is the creative side, so I would think that Tom would be creating the expectations. However, upon further reflection, in Tom’s mind, the expectations follow a linear logic that is associated with the left side of the brain. He feels that he and Summer reignited a spark at Millie’s wedding. When Summer invites him to her place for a party, Tom logically expects that Summer is single and feels that spark as well.

Run Lola Run

The split screen reminds us that Lola is racing against the clock as she tries to get the money in order to save her boyfriend, Manny. When I studied this film in film theory class, I learned to think of it as a video game in which Lola learns from her previous experiences what she has to do in order to rescue Manny. Most video games have a timer somewhere on the screen. Also, most video games show multiple characters doing different things simultaneously on the same screen. This split screen show that Lola and Manny will not be defeated by time with the clock at the bottom of the frame.

These are my favorite uses of the split screen effect in films. Are there other films that use the split screen that you like? If so, feel free to share in the comments section. Also, check out Split Screen: a weblog dedicated to the art of the split screen and multi-layered visuals to see more media that uses the split screen.

Is Bridesmaids really "The Hangover for Women"

Bridesmaids: “The Hangover for Women.” That is the description used mostly by mainstream media to market the film. But why? As a woman, I like The Hangover and not because I fondly remember fantasizing about Bradley Cooper’s Will Tippin from Alias. I enjoy it for the same reason men enjoy it: watching three ridiculous guys go through ridiculous obstacles to get the groom to his wedding. Is it to reassure people that Bridesmaids will be so funny that they will be glad to fork over $12 to see it? Released at the beginning of wedding season, the film has a built-in audience with the female population who has dealt with the craziness of being in a wedding at some point in her life. Plus, there are women who will drag their boyfriends/husbands to see it as entertainment blackmail for making them sit through the NBA playoffs/NHL playoffs/MLB game/French Open matches. Then there are the Saturday Night Live fans who either love Kristen Wiig or just curious to see her play another character other than her annoying socially-inept, goofy-voiced characters.

If Bridesmaids is truly meant to be “The Hangover for Women,” then the film should have focused on the bachelorette party to prove that women can party just as hard if not harder than the guys. After all, the bachelorette party in Bridesmaids is supposed to take place in Las Vegas just like in The Hangover. However, the women never make it to the bachelorette party thanks to Annie (Kristen Wiig). Due to her fear of flying, she gets drunk after taking a sedative which causes her to panic and to throw a tantrum getting the bridesmaids thrown off the plane. No losing the bride. No Mike Tyson cameo. No mad dash to get ransom money. No quickie Vegas marriage for anyone. Perhaps a moment of toilet humor in a bridal boutique and a brief girl-on-girl kiss will appeal to the male audience but that does not make Bridesmaids comparable to The Hangover.

What Bridesmaids has in common with The Hangover is that it humorously reflects the wedding party experience with the pre-wedding parties. These pre-wedding parties have a way of bringing people together who may know the bride or the groom but may not know each other. The groomsmen plan the bachelor party while the bridesmaids plan the wedding shower and the bachelorette party. The male version of party planning is drinking beer and deciding between a sports bar or a strip club as the perfect location to get the groom to an amnestic level of drunk. The bachelor party is the sole reason why men are willing to sit through a wedding in a tuxedo. Even though the groom is absent for most of the film, the bachelor party experience strengthens the bond between Phil (Bradley Cooper), Stu (Ed Helms), and Alan (Zach Galifianakis). No matter what happens they accept that they are stuck together and try to help each other out. The film shows male bonding before the wedding at its finest.

However, Bridesmaids shows female bonding before the wedding at its most awkward. In this film, the awkwardness comes from Lillian (Maya Rudolph) bringing together her childhood friend Annie and her fiancé’s boss’s wife Helen (Rose Byrne). When they meet, Annie and Helen size each other up in a passive-aggressive manner speaking clipped tones under the guise of politeness. The engagement party devolves into a game of “Who knows Lillian best.” When they try to bond while playing tennis, they “accidently” hurt each other while trying to prove they’re Lillian’s best friend.

The other awkwardly funny moments come when one of them tries to control the party planning. Wedding showers are notoriously difficult to plan even with the most laid-back bride because you have to decide on a theme, party favors, and games. Any woman who has had the responsibility of planning the wedding shower has at least one member of the bridal party who bombards you with well-meaning suggestions with that tone of “I can do this better than you. Why the hell did the bride ask you to do this?” which makes you automatically defensive constantly justifying your choices. In the film, Annie suggests having a Paris theme for the wedding shower which Helen rejects initially undermining Annie’s position as the maid of honor. However, when Helen takes over the wedding shower planning, not only does she use Annie’s suggestion but also she goes over the top with it (i.e. puppies as party favors) which causes Annie to freak out. Lillian tells Annie not to come to the wedding. The film shows how easily two well-meaning bridesmaids lose sight of what the bride wants.

Based on story alone, Bridesmaids is not “The Hangover for Women.” While Annie does act ridiculous throughout the film, her ridiculousness is a reaction based on insecurity. The guys act ridiculous as reaction to the ridiculous circumstances. The only way that Bridesmaids can be called “The Hangover for Women” is through making us laugh as we relate to the pre-wedding bonding experience.

(Note to aspiring female producers/directors/screenwriters: If you’re looking for ideas, how about a film featuring a bachelorette party that focuses on the bonding between women making it a true “The Hangover for Women”? Please do not make it about finding the right man.)

A Semi-Objective Film Review of Jane Eyre (2011)

Directed by Cary Fukunaga, Jane Eyre (2011) tells the story of a young governess who overcomes her circumstances and falls in love with her mysterious employer. Along with Fukunaga’s direction, the gloomy cinematography conveys the Gothic element of this classic tale particularly in the opening sequence when Jane wanders around the vast landscape leaving us wondering where she is. One minor exception to the Gothic element is the red room which Jane is supposed to believe that her dead Uncle Reed haunts. The red room looks like a tacky sitting room with the sun shining too brightly for a room that is supposed to be a place of punishment.

In my previous post, I note the specific issues that I had with the screenplay. However, I do appreciate the clever use of the flashback structure to compress the novel’s first act (Jane’s childhood) and the third act (Jane’s first few months with the Rivers family). The second act (Jane’s time at Thornfield) remains mostly uninterrupted focusing on the romance between Jane and Mr. Rochester. However, the ending is simply too abrupt to satisfy even those who are not familiar with the novel and simply watching a period romance.

With the version that they are given, Mia Wasikowska does an excellent job in portraying Jane’s strength of conviction and intelligence as well as her shyness and awkwardness. Michael Fassbender does not portray the enigmatic teasing aspect of Rochester’s character especially in the first intellectual discussion scene and in the scene after Bertha attacks her brother. He telegraphs Rochester’s interest in Jane too much in those scenes. However, in the aftermath of the fire, a scene where Rochester should show an attraction for Jane, Fassbender provides the right amount of seduction.



Also, Jamie Bell gives me a new appreciation of the character of St. John Rivers, a character that I do not normally care for in the book and generally despise when watching Jane Eyre. Bell does not play the character as condescending as other actors have done but still maintains the character’s self-righteousness.

If I am in the mood for a highlight reel of Jane Eyre, I will watch this version. But if I want to indulge my novel purist side, I will watch the 1983 BBC miniseries version instead.

Jane Eyre film links:

Official Website

The Enthusiast’s Guide to Jane Eyre Adaptations

Up in the Eyre: Why are there so many movie adaptations of Jane Eyre, and which one is the best?

The Novel Purist Review of Jane Eyre (2011)

I tried. Honest. I told myself that the film is two hours long and that some scenes and lines will be cut and I should accept it as a highlight reel of Jane Eyre. But I couldn’t stop myself from mentally complaining about the omitted lines and scenes. I was extremely critical during my favorite chapters:

Chapter 14 – Jane and Mr. Rochester’s first intellectual discussion

The dialogue began well with Rochester (Michael Fassbender) being intimidating and enigmatic at the part when he asks Jane (Mia Wasikowska) if she finds him handsome and she sharply replies “No sir.” Although they kept the discussion of Rochester’s claim to superiority based on Jane being his paid subordinate, the discussion on how Rochester made use of his time and experience was dwindled down to a few lines thus cutting out intellectual bond that Rochester and Jane form during this conversation. Instead, Fassbender decides that Rochester wants Jane to know that he is interested in her by saying “Possibly: yet why should I, if I can get sweet, fresh pleasure? And I may get it as sweet and fresh as the wild honey the bee gathers on the moor” and “I see at intervals the glance of a curious sort of bird through the close-set bars of a cage: a vivid, restless, resolute captive is there; were it but free, it would soar cloud-high.” in a overtly seductive manner instead of in a enigmatically teasing manner. Rochester does not show Jane that he likes her just as a person at this point.

Chapter 23 – the proposal scene

My first thought when I saw that this scene was coming: ”Why is it daytime?! Am I not remembering this correctly because I could’ve sworn this scene happens at night?” So, when I reread the chapter, I did remember that the scene correctly. Why can’t this scene ever be done right? I feel that this scene takes place at night because there’s an underlying darkness to the proposal: Rochester is already married in the eyes of the law. Perhaps the filmmakers felt that shooting the scene in the day will lend a sense of irony. Then there’s the omission of Rochester finding her a situation in Ireland. That piece of information is the key to Jane’s emotional breakdown because the possibility of her leaving Rochester became real. Without it, the scene lacked the emotional highs and lows that it should have.

Chapter 27 – after the reveal of Rochester’s wife

Wasikowska and Fassbender did a good job at portraying Jane’s sense of pity along with her strength of conviction to leave Rochester and Rochester’s desperation to make Jane stay with him especially when he said, “A mere reed she feels in my hand! I could bend her with my finger and thumb. Whatever I do with its cage, I cannot get at it--the savage, beautiful creature! And it is you, spirit--with will and energy, and virtue and purity--that I want: not alone your brittle frame.” However, the scene would have more passion if the screenwriter had included these lines:

"Jane, you understand what I want of you? Just this promise--'I will be yours, Mr. Rochester.'"
"Mr. Rochester, I will NOT be yours."
Another long silence.
"Jane!" recommenced he, with a gentleness that broke me down with grief, and turned me stone-cold with ominous terror--for this still voice was the pant of a lion rising--"Jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, and to let me go another?"
"I do."
"Jane" (bending towards and embracing me), "do you mean it now?"
"I do."
"And now?" softly kissing my forehead and cheek.
"I do," extricating myself from restraint rapidly and completely.
"Oh, Jane, this is bitter! This--this is wicked. It would not be wicked to love me."
"It would to obey you."

While I had a laser-like focus on my favorite chapters, there were other lines that I wished the film had included:

When Jane leaves the party after Rochester asks her if she’s depressed and she denies it. Rochester says:

“But I affirm that you are: so much depressed that a few more words would bring tears to your eyes--indeed, they are there now, shining and swimming; and a bead has slipped from the lash and fallen on to the flag. If I had time, and was not in mortal dread of some prating prig of a servant passing, I would know what all this means. Well, to-night I excuse you; but understand that so long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in the drawing-room every evening; it is my wish; don't neglect it. Now go, and send Sophie for Adele. Good-night, my--" He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me.

In the film, a servant announces Richard Mason’s arrival. In the book, Mason arrives a few days after this scene.

When Jane leaves for Gateshead:

“Then you and I must bid good-bye for a little while?" [Rochester says.]
"I suppose so, sir."
"And how do people perform that ceremony of parting, Jane? Teach me; I'm not quite up to it."
"They say, Farewell, or any other form they prefer."
"Then say it."
"Farewell, Mr. Rochester, for the present."
"What must I say?"
"The same, if you like, sir."
"Farewell, Miss Eyre, for the present; is that all?"
"Yes?"
"It seems stingy, to my notions, and dry, and unfriendly. I should like something else: a little addition to the rite. If one shook hands, for instance; but no--that would not content me either. So you'll do no more than say Farewell, Jane?"
"It is enough, sir: as much good-will may be conveyed in one hearty word as in many."
"Very likely; but it is blank and cool--'Farewell.'"

This is one of their major bonding moments and it should have not been left out.

The plot point that I cannot believe that they changed was the fact that Jane discovers that the Rivers are her blood relatives thus giving Jane the family she always wanted. In the film, Jane suggests to St. John that he treats her like a sister. While I can guess that the filmmakers decided on this change to make the St. John’s proposal more acceptable to a modern audience, I find it insulting to the audience. Most viewers try to understand that different time periods had different standards for who people can marry. I think that they could have understood that cousins married each other during that time.

My next post will be a more objective film review of Jane Eyre (2011). But I felt it was my duty as a Jane Eyre fan to warn other Jane Eyre fans about the missing lines and scenes. And to say to any aspiring screenwriter/director/producer: STOP MAKING JANE EYRE FEATURE FILM ADAPTATIONS! THE NOVEL ONLY WORKS AS A MINISERIES!

My first Flixist post

Check out my pick for Flixist's Monthly Musings on sound:

Of sound mind: Romeo + Juliet

Novel-to-Film Adaptations: Film vs. TV miniseries

The way I normally discover books is through films. I like a film, discover that it was adapted from a novel, and read it. Then I usually try to watch the film noting the discrepancies and the possible reasons for them. Most of the time, I feel that the novel enhances my film viewing experience. Other times I am left wondering why the director and/or the screenwriter decided to veer off from the novel. And some books are better adapted as a miniseries than as a feature film. I have argued the case for my favorite novel Jane Eyre over at my sister Jessica’s blog. For this entry, I will examine the 1945 feature film adaptation and the 2011 HBO miniseries adaptation of the James M. Cain novel, Mildred Pierce.

I had seen the 1945 film starring Joan Crawford on Turner Classic Movies a few times. I was not aware that it was a novel until I heard about the HBO miniseries starring Kate Winslet. Since James M. Cain was known for his hard-boiled crime novels like The Postman Always Rings Twice and Double Indemnity, I figured Mildred Pierce would have the same story as the 1945 film. Mildred Pierce’s loafing husband, Monty Beragon, is murdered and the police try to figure out the identity of the murderer. Mildred recounts her life story to the police of being a single mother who became a waitress and later a successful restaurant owner to support her snobby, spoiled, and ungrateful daughter Veda’s upper class lifestyle aspirations. Once Mildred gives Veda the kind of life that Veda has always wanted, Veda repays her by having an affair with Monty. However, Monty does not love Veda and Veda kills him. Mildred tries to cover up Veda’s crime to alleviate the guilt of creating the vicious Veda but Veda ends up in jail.

But I was wrong. In fact, there is no murder in the original novel. Well, I can argue there is a murder of a mother’s love. Mildred Pierce is a character study of a mother who obsessively loves her snobby, spoiled, and vicious daughter Veda. Like the 1945 film, Mildred becomes a waitress and later on a restaurant owner to give Veda to have the upper class life that Mildred had always wanted. And yet Veda scorns her mother’s working class success. When Veda becomes a successful coloratura soprano, how does she thank her mother for all the years of love, devotion, and sacrifice? By sleeping with her mother’s husband, Monty, of course. And Veda does not pay. She deceives Mildred one last time and goes her merry way to New York. Mildred makes a vow to never let Veda into her life again.

One of the factors that works in the miniseries’ favor is time. The first element of time is the year. The 1945 film had to deal with the Production Code which outlawed explicit mentions and depictions of infidelity and sexuality which permeate the novel. The murder was created so that those who were deemed immoral (Monty and Veda) would be punished for their affair and Mildred gets all the admiration for maintaining her dignity. In the scene where Mildred (Joan Crawford) catches Monty (Zachary Scott) with Veda (Ann Blyth), Mildred looks briefly at Veda as Veda says that she is glad that Mildred now knows. We see Mildred’s shock over the discovery fighting back tears. However, Mildred’s anger is more focused on Monty than Veda. Mildred tries to pull the gun on Monty but Monty convinces her to drop it. So Mildred scurries in tears.

In the novel, Mildred is not completely dignified when she discovers Monty and Veda’s affair. The 2011 miniseries allows the scene where Mildred discovers Monty and Veda together to play out in its naked (pun intended) agony. As Mildred (Kate Winslet) watches Veda (Evan Rachel Wood) strut across the room mocking her mother with her naked body, Mildred sees her idealized self that she poured her sweat and tears into creating and the thankless daughter who betrayed her. Mildred strangles Veda trying to destroy the creature that she helped to create because the ideal version of Mildred that she wanted Veda to be would never do something like this.

The second element of time is length. Would a faithful adaptation of the novel work in a feature film format? Perhaps. But then again, the characters would have to be oversimplified in order to fit in a two hour time frame. We would not see Mildred as a capable business woman who was incapable of seeing the snake-like monster that she created in Veda, for some of the scenes concerning Mildred’s restaurants would have been cut. We would see Monty as simply a willing loaf as opposed a loaf who wanted to be loved by Mildred and not for what he can do for her. We would only see Veda as rotten to her core instead of questioning whether she was a product of her mother’s smothering love or not. With a novel like this, the length of time is important to explore the toxic mother/daughter relationship that Mildred and Veda have and to feel Mildred’s despair every time she thinks she has Veda’s love only to have Veda take it away from her.

Because I had started reading the novel after the first two episodes aired and finished it before the last two episodes, I had more of an open mind than I do with Jane Eyre. My one disappointment in the miniseries adaptation is the ending. The original ending gave you the idea that Mildred finally understood the viciousness of her daughter and she was truly, completely done with Veda. However, the ending that the miniseries chose seems to suggest that even though Mildred says she’s done with Veda, if Veda were to come back, Mildred would take her back in a heartbeat.

Next Wednesday, April 27, 2011, at 8:00 P.M. I will be hosting up a twitter chat (#filmchat) via my Twitter @sherryrose80 about film vs. miniseries adaptations. The following questions will be discussed:

Have you read the book before you saw the film?
Have you seen a film, read the book, and then see a film again?
If so, did reading the book change your view of the film?
How do you feel when the film changes the ending from the book?
Would all books benefit from a miniseries format or are there any books that it would be impossible to do so?

I hope you can come and chat. I look forward to hearing from you.

Elizabeth Taylor: The Lady in White on Tennessee Williams’s Boulevard of Broken Homosexual Dreams

Elizabeth Taylor (1932- 2011) was known as a breathtakingly beautiful actress who portrayed both smoldering sexuality and unhinged fragility. These qualities are best exemplified in the film adaptations of Tennessee Williams’s plays: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) and Suddenly, Last Summer (1959). Williams’s plays are known for the broken dream and the heartbreaking effects on facing reality on those who cannot face reality. In Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Suddenly, Last Summer, the broken dream is the virile heterosexual man that people believe Brick and Sebastian to be. Elizabeth Taylor plays the character who makes the characters see the homosexual men and the destructive nature of their desire. In these moments she is dressed in white.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Here, Taylor plays Maggie the Cat, a woman trying desperately to get her husband into their marriage bed. However, Brick (Paul Newman) is consumed by his grief over the death of his friend, Skipper. Due to the Hollywood Production Code, the homosexual relationship had to be implied. The white dresses she wears throughout the film suggest the purity of heterosexual desire. She tells Brick “Maggie the Cat is alive! I’m alive!” to emphasize that his friend Skipper is dead so his homosexual desire should be dead as well. She tries to get Brick to talk about his desire for Skipper even when Brick tells Big Daddy that Maggie had sex with Skipper out of revenge.

Later in the film, Maggie proclaims, “The truth, the truth! Everybody keeps hollering about the truth. Well, the truth is as dirty as lies!” Although the truth in this scene was Big Daddy’s cancer diagnosis, it can also mean the truth that Maggie has to lie about her pregnancy in order for Brick to face the fact that he cannot live as a homosexual male.

Suddenly, Last Summer

In this film, Taylor plays Catherine Holly who is traumatized by the death of her cousin, Sebastian Venable. Her aunt has put her in a mental institution and insists that Catherine get a lobotomy because everyone else wants to remember their version of Sebastian, a good man who liked to write poetry in the summer. For most of the film, Catherine wears dark colors showing the darkness of ignoring the truth. In the film’s climatic scene, Catherine, dressed in white and seated in a white chair, tells everyone the truth that they do not want to hear while under a truth serum. Using heterosexual desire to bring about homosexual pleasure, Sebastian made Catherine wear a white bathing suit to bait young boys. However, those young boys eventually turn on Sebastian and kill him in a cannibalistic fashion. Once the truth is revealed, Catherine is at peace.

In both films, Elizabeth Taylor shows that she was the perfect actress to convey Williams’s strong yet fragile object of heterosexual desire.

For more information on Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Suddenly, Last Summer:

IMDB site for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Turner Classic Movies articles on Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

IMDB site for Suddenly, Last Summer

Turner Classic Movies articles on Suddenly, Last Summer