"Independent vs. Dominant"
BY: JASON VERNON

 Krzysztof Kieslowski’s film “Blue,” along with “White” and “Red” which round out the trilogy, has no ties to Hollywood; subsequently, it would be safe to presume that Kieslowski uses a style that is radically different than that of the Hollywood style.  Whether it is a lack of knowledge of the Hollywood style or a planned negation of it or simply a brief divergence from it is inconsequential, simply that a new styles arise is relevant.  Because films from Hollywood are considered mainstream or dominant, films from any other area can be considered independent films, and it is independent films that set a precedent for ingenuity in the medium of film.  Kieslowski’s film “Blue” is definitely one of these trend-setting pieces that deviates greatly from the set dominant construct.  Kieslowski uses several devices that have either been avoided or only sparsely used in the mainstream.  It could be argued that dominant cinema would be the best choice of styles because it is readily accepted by a large audience, but, in comparing the style of “Blue” with the style of dominant cinema, it becomes clear that independent film, especially this independent film, has found some formidable, if not superior, methods of conveying visual and auditory imagery.

            The most striking feature of “Blue” is Kieslowski’s ability to paint with light and color to convey a sense of emotion, a concept almost completely foreign to Hollywood aesthetics.  The title of the film is derived from the blue stripe in the French flag.  This portion of the flag symbolizes liberty, and Kieslowski uses this color to show Julie’s struggle with her own freedom from her memories of her family.  Early in the film, Julie’s daughter is associated with the color blue through the blue wrapper of her sucker and the blue glass pieces on her lamp.  The constant reoccurrence of these colors conveys, without words or actions, that Julie is thinking about her dead daughter.  In one scene, Julie spends several minutes simply gazing at the glass lamp, letting the light shine through casting pools of blue on her face.  The emotional intensity of this relatively simplistic scene speaks volumes; there are few Hollywood moments comparable to this, one being Shyamalan’s muddled use of the color red in “The Sixth Sense” to try and give some unity to the theme of death.  What Shyamalan fails to do that Kieslowski does so elegantly is to attach very specific ideas with his colors through repetition of association.  The pool that Julie often swims in is heavily tinted blue; her immersion and isolation in the color mirrors her thoughts and emotions about her family and her past.  It becomes obvious that every time Julie is swimming she is actually being deeply introspective to the point that she submerses herself for several minutes, almost to the point of drowning herself, in the thoughts of her past.  In Hollywood films, this device falls victim to less subtle techniques such as narration or interior dialogue.

            Kieslowski uses the close-up, as well as the extreme close-up, in a way that brings his characters and images out of the realm of film and into a more tangible reality.  There are some moments in the film “Blue” where the depth of the character’s emotion is inexpressible in words.  At times like this Kieslowski tightens the frame to include only the characters face, or even just a portion of their face.  The result is a closeness that develops between the audience and the actor that begins to resemble actual acquaintance.  Instead of being told what the character is feeling, the audience actually gets to see what they feel through subtle eye and facial movement.  Because most individuals react with their friends in real life like this, the technique gives the characters a completely new dimension that is unavailable in dominant cinema.  Of course the only way this technique truly works is with the talent of actors such as Juliette Binoche, but most actors aren’t even afforded the opportunity to display this type of emotional intimacy due to the Hollywood affinity for the OTS and two-shot.  The close-up technique also elevates what would be considered normal images to memorable imagery.  There is a moment in the film where the camera pulls in tight on a cup of coffee with sugar cubes in it.  The cubes slowly absorb the dark liquid and turn brown.  The film is attempting to bring the characters into the real world as much as possible so that a sense of empathy will develop within the audience, and the dwelling on this everyday occurrence acts as a catalyst to that goal.  Julie is so immersed in thought that she is staring at nothing in particular, in this case the coffee cup, and the audience stares with her.  The example of the glass lamp from earlier is also an example of the close-ups in this film: Julie’s face and a few crystals of glass fill the frame.  The intimacy of this scene is overwhelming in its emotional content, due to the lack of distractions from the character and her thoughts.  This method also leaves room for interpretations of the film.  If Julie were to say everything that she was feeling it would leave no room for an audience member to bring their own experience into the situation.  Because close-ups are used instead of lengthy dialogue, an audience member is free to relate with the character in whatever way they feel most comfortable, again forming a more tangible bond.

            Music plays a role in this film that far exceeds that of the normal Hollywood soundtrack.  Most obviously, music is a plot point in the film in that Julie’s husband was a composer, and music reminds Julie of him like the lamp reminds her of her daughter.  But, beyond that, music represents Julie’s emotional state much like the color blue does.  There is no better way to emphasize the audio in a film than to isolate it, and Kieslowski does just that.  There are four points in the film where the screen goes black and the music crescendos.  Each of these points represents a major turning point in Julie’s ability to deal with her issues of liberation from her past.  Some more mainstream films might use a flashback or, again, some type of interior dialogue to achieve this same goal.  It is widely accepted that music is a powerful tool in evoking human emotion, and Kieslowski uses it well at these four points to bring the audience to a point where they can see where Julie is emotionally.  In the scene where Julie is reviewing her husband’s music with a friend, Kieslowski use an extreme close-up of the sheet music coupled with his soundtrack.  Each note on the page passes from screen right to screen left as it is played, the result of which is the heightening of the music to a plateau of importance which rivals that of the color blue.  Conversely, some Hollywood soundtracks are compiled for the sole purpose of selling well.

            A tool that Kieslowski uses, which is not unique in any way to his style but that has suffered from a gross lack of under use in recent mainstream cinema, is the long take.  Recent dominant films rely on quick editing style so as to not loose the audiences attention.  Prime examples of this are Ritchie’s and Aronofsky’s use of the “hip-hop montage” in which they flash a rapid secession of images to compress time.  Kieslowski stays with images for extended periods to force the audience to see exactly what they are looking at.  The coffee cup with sugar cubes and Julie’s face with the blue pools of light from the lamp are both examples of the long takes in this film.  Not only does it give the audience time to see what’s there but it also forces them to internalize what they are seeing.  This raises the emotional involvement of the audience which is the goal that Kieslowski seems to be striving for.

            It would seem that Kieslowski’s style is more effective than the mainstream style in bringing the audience in emotionally.  Whether this is a better approach at filmmaking is certainly a subjective question.  If the goal of the film is to give people an escape from reality for a little while, then pulling them in emotionally and forcing them to sympathize with the characters is probably not the best approach.  But making art for art’s sake, which is one of Kieslowski’s purposes, would certainly require the most audience involvement possible.

In the new film from acclaimed writer/director Jim Jarmusch, which won the Grand Prix at this year's Cannes International Film Festival, Bill Murray stars as Don Johnston. The resolutely single Don has just been dumped by his latest lover, Sherry (Julie Delpy). Don yet again resigns himself to being alone and left to his own devices. Instead, he is compelled to reflect on his past when he receives by mail a mysterious pink letter. It is from an anonymous former lover and informs him that he has a 19-year-old son who may now be looking for his father. Don is urged to investigate this "mystery" by his closest friend and neighbor, Winston (Jeffrey Wright), an amateur sleuth and family man. Hesitant to travel at all, Don nonetheless embarks on a cross-country trek in search of clues from four former flames (Frances Conroy, Jessica Lange, Sharon Stone, and Tilda Swinton). Unannounced visits to each of these unique women hold new surprises for Don as he haphazardly confronts both his past and, consequently, his present.

I saw Broken Flowers with my mom in a theater in Dallas. With most movies, seeing it with my mom has a drastic effect on the viewing experience and thus, how much I like it. I’m usually worrying about how my mom was reacting to that man that just said the F word or the woman who just chomped on that retarded kid’s weiner. Nothing about seeing a movie with my mom is good because I am uncomfortable and it makes me suddenly have a conscious. But with Broken Flowers, I didn’t have to worry about any of this. Anyone who knows Jim Jarmusch knows his very unique minimalist style. And for me, I completely dig it. But my mom is an idiot and couldn’t take the heat and she fell asleep. Let me start the review of the movie by saying this is my favorite Jarmusch film. He takes a very simple story and fills it with his own brand of eccentricity. The story follows Murray, a former playboy who receives an anonymous letter from a former lover that says he has a son and that the son might be on the road looking for him. Murray, with the help of his Rasta neighbor who is an aspiring detective, decides to interrogate four former lovers and find out who the mother of his son is. The movie turns into a very interesting character study. With each woman, you find out how each has changed from being with Murray’s character. The entire time, Murray is looking for clues and those parts made me laugh. You have to understand, when I say minimalist, I mean it. There are literally scenes where nothing really happens and then a long pause separates another part of the same scene where nothing really happens again. But that’s how a lot of Jarmusch’s films tend to be and it works with him. I really like it. But just know what you’re getting into. Each scene is important because vital clues to how this man has lived his life are in them, but the scenes are just very measured and quiet, kind of like in life. Sharon Stone is in this movie but she’s kind of a waste. She plays the first chick he goes and sees, but it’s a small part. Not a Sharon Stone part. I’ve always had this idea that I would get Sharon Stone to be in my movie and promise her $15 million and when she came to my set, me and my friends would all bang her. Total Recall is so good. My only complaint was the scene with the chick that was an animal “communicator.” At that point in the movie, the entire concept was sort of over the top when the rest of the movie was so real. My favorite parts of the movie, and really my favorite parts in a lot of Jarmusch’s movies, are the random images that you believe will have more meaning later, but never seem to be dealt with. For instance, a boy on a bus very early on in the film that Murray looks very closely at. You think this kid might be his son or has the potential to be his son or something. But we never see the kid again. And you in the audience can only think “Maybe THAT kid was his son.” And that’s why I gave the ending 3 stars. You don’t know who his son is, or who the mother is, and you’re in no better position that 2 hours ago when you started the movie. You have your theories on who YOU think the son is or the mom, but no one knows and neither does Jarmusch.  And that’s why it works. It’s like you kids who are deciphering the ending to Donnie Darko. I like having my own theory. And for the record, I think the mom was the animal communicator and his son was the kid he bought the sandwich for. Bill Murray is not overrated either, which is an entire other argument. I’ve  always had this idea that I would get Bill Murray to be in my movie and promise him $15 million and when he came to my set, me and my friends would chill out and watch Ghostbusters with him. It would be sweet. And as he left, we’d torture him.