the film text and film form

8/13/2019 The Film Text and Film Form

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The film t x t andfilm form

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U U f O O ~ cinema to Metz s definition of the encompassing institution of production, distribution, exhibition, an dreception. Butthatwill be th e easiest part of the untangling process. Film an d th e cinema are such a regularpart of ou r lives, that defining, differentiating, an danalysing them are no t only difficult, bu t also difficultfor many people to accept. Inde ed there a re s omethings we would rather were left alone and th e moviesare one of them. The preference to think of a film as akind of seff-constructed presence full of story, characters an d emotion is strong. A film is there complete

full, an d waiting forourgaze. Why make it more diffi< ult

than it appears? Precisely because it appears so simplea nd b ec au se th e influence of film on our lives is so

great.

Ou r first response to th e question What is a film?might be : A film is what we see when we go to Jh ecinema or th e movies) or watch a videocassette or atelevision broadcast of a film . A d ir ec t e no ug h

response b ut o n e that actually responds to diffen:mtthings. Or, more appropriately, different, but closely

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efining t film t xt

Robert olker

Studying t film t xt

What do we mean when we talk about a film? Theanswers to this apparently straightforward questionare n ot s imp le , no t at all based in common sense

an d go to th e heart of th e compleXities of th e institutions, th e practices, a nd the viewing of movies.

The terms themselves suggest ou r uncertainties.Cinema, as Christian Metz 1977/1982: 5 .. suggestsimplies th e entire institution of filmmaking, film distribution, film exhibition, an d film viewing. In England

th e cinema usually refers to t he place where a film is

shown. In th e United States movies replaces cinema , an d the word film is reserved for serious

intent. In Hollywood, thepeoplewhomakefilrossome-times call them pictures , an d once referred to t:hem some still do) as shows . .

Is everyone talking about th e same thing? An d whatis th e thing ? As we try to untangle a definition of th efilm text, I will us e film instead of ,movie reserving myright to be serious) an d will try to restrict th e term

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~ { ; ; k : . H : ~ · · e · e · I ~ · i ~ · e ~ ~ i ~ : ~ ~ ; £ ~ : ~ s i ~ 7 : ~ ;: ~ e ~ : n ~ ~ ~ ~ n i~ ~ l text is something that contains a complex ot events~ ~ ~ (images, words, sounds) that are related to each other

I, ,il ; i : h ~ a : o ~ ; : ~ e : ~ i ~ : h c : ; e ~ : : : o ~ ~ ~ ; : a t ~ ~ ~ ~ · common goal oftelling us something. In ordinary par-

. ~I lance, a text is also something physical, like a novel or a t ·

li book of poems. We all know about a tex tbook. But a

? ~ painting is also a t ex t. So is a television show, an d th e

: , ~ l ; h : ~ r ~ ~ e c s e ~ ~ : ~ ~ : ~ : ; ;: ~ e ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ . ~ : :~ ~ : v : a n ~ isolate an d define its outside boundaries an d its inter-

~ . l nal structure-and ou r responses to it (for a text to be 0 completed, it must be seen, read, heard by someone).~ If we think of this in relation to a film, we begin to se e~ ~ how hard it is to define th e film t ex t -or texts-which ~ ~ \ ~ : are physical narrative economic and curtur l and1: which include production, distribution, exhibit ion,

and viewing.I The physical presence of a film constitutes on eliC ti aspect of film s textuality: th e five or six reels of

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ t ~ ~ ~ ~ i : ~of a 35mm print. On th e most obvious level, th e conditions qf its viewing are no t th e same. The kind ofconcentration made possible in a darkened cinemawhere a high-resolution image is projected on th escreen is no t th e same as th e bright busy living-room,o r th e comfort of th e bedroom, where a small, lowresolution image is projected from behind onto a cathod e ray tube. The image an d th e ways in which weattend to it are different. The television or Videotapedimage are no t only smaller, bu t also more square. Thesides of th e image are·lost on most transfers of film tovideo (almosttwo-thi rds ofthe image iftheoriginal wasfilmed in anamorphic wide screen and th en p an a ndscanned for videotape). The difference in size, resolution, and response creates a differenttextual construction for televisual as opposed to theatric-al viewing.

We can extend these differences further. 1n 1:heatricalexhibition th e size, proportion, and resolution of th efilm image ar e no longer under th e control of th e filmmakers or th e audience. They are control led by th ephysical circumstances, resources, an d commitmentof th e exhibitor. For a number of years th e size of th e

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screen in any given theatre has been determinedth e size of th e theatre, no t by a standard ratirecording and projecting. th e image. While a standratio did exist from th e early 1930s to th e early 19th e advent of different widescreen formats, th eshopping-mall theatre, th e need to composeimage ultimately to fit on television, makes imsize an d composition inexact and undependableany given film. Th e film text, in its physical, vissense, is therefore subject to architecture, to thmanagement, to the exigencies of broadcastvideotape conventio ns. Almost ev ery Videotareleased in th e United States comes with two warninon e from th e FBI warning s about copyright restions; th e other tel ling us that this film has beenmatted to fit your television . Physical textuality, lmuch else in th e creation an d reception offilm, isject to external forces that make it difficult for usdefine it as some ,essential, unchanging thing.

Ultimately, th e physicality of film even th e formits projection, are less important than th e effect iwhen we view it. Watching a film is more than anyphysical parts: it is an event that occurs when th esical thing becomes activated by human percepthrough some kind of projection or broadcast. As

as a thinking, feeling person is present-viewingfilm-that person s experience is brought t o b eath e film s images, sounds, an d narrative. The viewexperience is itself informed by th e culture in whicor sh e lives. A person s beliefs, understandings, anvalues are all activated within the context of film ving.That is true for th e people who created th e fiwell. They, too, ar e a major part of th e text. Tbeliefs, their understanding of what a film s ~ o

should no t be, th e economic constraints thatthem to say and do only so much in any given fthese become textualized.

Isthis any different from ou r contact with other wof th e imagination? The German critic Walter Benjamin, wrote in his 1936essay TheWork of Art in th eof Mechanical Reproduction that film is unique amth e arts because of th e fact that it is no t unique. Oth e arts, Benjamin wrote, film is without aura , withth e sii1 gularity of the immediate experience o

artefact uniquely connected with a singular humcreative imagination. Film seems to have no orit is there, whole an d complete, ready for ou r enment or th e enjoyment of anyone else with th eof admission; a monthly cable fee, or money fortal. For Benjamin, film s lack of aura, lack of forbidd



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The film text and authenticity

Textuality an d form include questions about authenti-city . Benjamin s conceptof th e work without aura sug-g es ts t ha t film removes authenticity from its text.However, despite Benjamin s argument abou t t heloss of aura, actual people do make films. But giventh e collaborative an d commercial basis of filmmak-i ng - s o different from th e individual creativity attribu-te d to th e traditional ar t s - the creative authority ofthefilmic text ha s been at the core of theoretical an dhistorical debate.

One part o f t he debate involves th e ability to findan d identify authoritative textS for early cinema thatwould enable us to create a reliable history of yarly

film. It is estimated that almost 75 pe rcen t of th e filmsmade befo re a nd jus t a ft er th e tu m of th e century nolonger exist. Those that do exist, from th e early twen-t ie th cen tu ry up to t he t ee ns , are in questionable,often i ~ a u t h e n t i cforms. For example, Edward S Porter s T he i fe of an meric n ireman (1903) has beenregarded as o ne o f th e earliest films to intercut differ-en t scenes for th e sake of narrative complexity.

THE IL M t XT AND FILM FORM

J ~ i q U e n ~ ~ ~ : ~ ~ 8i t s e ~ i ~~ f ~ 2 c ~ ~ ~ : M ~ k ~ i : i t \ h e~ ~ , { caned I ~ ~ i b i eto many i ~ t ~ ~ ~ ~ t ~ r s ~ ~ h o s

social an d communal o f t he arts. Film addresses the themselves part of its very textuality and form.world, pierces through th e realities of daily life like asurgeon s knife (1936/1969: 233) and, by openingperceptions of th e ordinary to th e many, holds th epossibility of engaging a n a ud ie nc e in a social an dcultural discourse, a mass engagement of th e imagi-nation unlike any other ar t form. (Benjamin also madeit clear that film runs th e risk oHorging an authoritarianassent to th e dominant ideology.)

The textuality of film is therefore diffe rent from anovel or a painting. Less personal, bu t more accessible.Neither unique nor intimqte, yet closer to th e worldmost of us live in, engaged in its dailiness,and power-fully in touch with th e social. Th e text without aurabecomes th e text that resonates across many fieldsan d many consciousnesses. In any film we ar e witnessto a rich an d often conflicting structure of imaginative,cultural, economic, an d ideological events. Because

most films ar e made for profit, they attempt to speakto th e largest number of people, an d by so doing haveto appeal to what their makers believe are th e mostcommon an d acceptable beliefs of a potential audi-ence. But audiences often respond in ways th e film-makers don t expect. The result is t ha t t he film textoften lies at a n exu s of expectation an d response , ofcultural belief an d individual resistance. It is available

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~ ~- r Recently, it was discovered thatthe printwith th e mter-i cu t scenes (we will discuss intercutting an d cross-cut-I ting a bitfurther on) may have been puttogetheryearsi later by distributors. Th e speculation is tha t the originalI. version of The Life of an American FiremaIJ may have been constructed with less cross-cutting, depending

more on a succession of shots, which was th e norm ofth e period (Gaudreault 1990), We do know that Porter'sother famous film, The Great Train Robbery 1903 ,w en t o ut to distributors with a shot that showed on eofthe train robbers pointing his gun atthe camera an dfiring. Th e film exhibitor was given th e choice whetherto putthatshot atthe beginning orthe en d ofthefilm.This abilityofthe distributorand exhibitorto alterafilmparallels th e contemporary problem we spoke of earlier, in which th e size of th e theatre or television screendetermines th e look of th e film.

As we move forward in film history, th e authenticityof th e early film text becomes closely related to th e

personality ofthefilmmaker. Eric von Stroheim's Greed(1925) was brutally cu t by MGM. Stroheim's authorityover his production was compromised when IrvingThalberg, head of production at MGM, refused to dist ribute Stroheim's original ten-hour cut. ihalbergcaused reed to be trimmed to two hours an ddestroyed th e rest. Stroheim's film, and his career asdirector, were all but destroyed as well. Orson Welles'sThe MagnificentAmbersons (1942), perhaps th e mostinfamous example of an inauthentictext, was removedfrom Welles's control before it was edited. The studio,RKO, reshot portions of it, changed the ending, n -

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di dwith Greed-destroyed

the deletedfootage. In both cases studio policy, personal dissension,

an d economic determinants conflicted sharply withth e artistic endeavours of th e filmmaker..

What is th e authoritative text of reed or The Mag-nifi ent Ambersons: th e films Stroheim an d Wellesmade o r the films released by their studios? Thesear e egregious examples of a perpetual prqblem,whichis intimately connected to th e question of authorship.

t h ~assumption of auteur theory, for example, hasb ~ e nthat we can identify th e text with· a p e r s o n ~ t h e

dired;or, In doing so, it is argued, we can not only discover th e authoritative boundaries that give a personal, textual legitimacy to a film, bu t authQrize ou rreaping of t h ~film as well. But th e auteur theoryespet:ially a s a pp li ed to American film----:-lias beenbasEld.n1ore on desire than fact. The reality is that t ~ e .

teXtsC;;f classical knerican studio cinema were and ~ r e

only rarely th e products of an individual imagination,

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'and th e director's job was primarilytotransferthescriptofilm: to makethe shotsand to coach th e actors.lntend th e producerand studio h ead h ad th e finql sayhow th e film l o o k e d

Because it is so intensely a public, commercial artfilm is author ized-or textualized-from a number

directions. No on e person or event determines it.ing th e s tudio period a film emerged from th e coltive work of a large staff under contract. Today a filoften conceived by a scriptwriter who, with th e helan agent sells his or he r idea to a studio. The ageplays a key role, brokering actors an d director. Durthese initial per iods of conception an d selling, madecisions ou t narrative characterization and commercial appeal are made. Also during this periointense economic negotiations are carried bn inattempt to sell th e film to a studio. Th e shootingth e film by th e director may involve some cinemaexperiment, but more often than not, because of b

getary an d scheduling restrictions, standard, conventional storytelling techniques predominate, as theyhave during th e scriptwriting process.

A film is made foran audience and will survive onlyfar as an audience finds it acceptable. Therefore,creation of a film is, in part, a structure of educateguesswork an d creative repetition. If audienresponded well to certain structures, stories, an d cacters in th e past they should be (most filmmakebelieve) repeated with some variation, in th e nwork. When that work is finished, th e audience isinto negotiation with it. (During th e studio daysr ~ g o t i a t i o n

process was fairly immediate, as stuexecutives an d th e filmmakers went to suburbanAngeles theatres to watch a pre-release screening otheir current film, and would then make changes todepending upon th e audience's response.) The negotiation process includes film reviews, familiarity wand responsiveness to th e film's stars, resonance wth e narrative content of the film, willingness to accth e inevitable exploitation of sexuality and violencthat are th e major components of most films.

Th e textuality of a film therefore becomes partresonantfield of creation an d response. It is a field t

.radiates from .the film or Videotape b ack to its makian d forward into th e environs of movie theatre oring-r60m. It confuses th e safe categories of authentian d inauthentic versions, an d calls upon th e entcultural surround of th e viewer and its creators.eri ;:apsulated within other textual forms: th e formsproduction that drive th e economy of a given cultu



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o , i ~ ; ~ : ~ ~ -_. : -. , , ' 'whi h 'IS' a s ~responsible 'for-'the \ vay a film is made,marketed, an d received as is th e work of any individual.In short, th e ribbon of plastic that holds th e images isonlya part of a large structure of imagination, economics, politics, an d ideology an d of individuals iimd th eculture as a whole.

Analysing th e film text: the shot andthe cut

Tpe diverse critical approaches to th e study of filmreflect this complexity. But, no matter what theapproach, it is now generally accepted that th e filmtext is a plural, complex, simultaneously static andchanging event, produced by the filmmakers whoput it t oge the r and the audience members who viewit.ltis unified by certain established ways inwhfch shots

. are made and edited t o g ~ t h e r .These structures ar e as

conventionalized as th e stories they create. By examining th e internal struG:ture of film narrative, th e way

, images are made an d puttogether in order to tell usstories, we can discover a great deal of informationflbout what films expect of us an d we of them.

Analysis of th e form of th e cinematic text c o n c e n ~

trates on th e two basic building-blocks offilm, the shotand th e cut, an d o n th e structurethat comes into beingwhen th e film is assembled, the· combination of shotand cut that is th e finished film. The first element, theshot, is the photographic record m ad e w he n film isexposed to light. The second comes into being whenthe shot is

interrupted, whenth e camera is shut

off, or .,when on e piece of film is cu t and t hen fas tened to, , c a n o ~ h e rpiece of film during th e editing process Thethird element is th e completed structure of image ,and~ d i . t i n gthat communicates th e narrative Of d v ~ r a l l

, ~ h ? p eo f t he film). It is th e initializjng constituent ofthetext as we have defined }t: th e complex i n t ~ r a c t i o n

~ > f i l mand audience, structure, content/context, an d /'t(Jlture.

; : None of these formal elements are simple or u n c o n ~

lested. Controversy overthe structure an d importance:9fthe shot and th e cut, ofthe shot versus th e cut, forms;th bedrock of film theory. In th e writings o ~Sergei

, J ~ l s e n _ s t e i nan d Andre Bazin, especially, an d th e work< ~ f avariety of filmmakers, belief in th e priority of on e; , ~ ~ I e m e n tQver t he o th er has determined th e way films: ; F r ~m ad e a nd understood, at least outsige of Holly

Wood.Sergei Eisenstein was th e great Soviet director of

THE IL M TEXT AND ILM FORM

films such as attieship Potemkin 1925), ctober 1928), an d Ivan t Terrible 1943). He theorized thatth e shot was only th e raw material t ha t t he filmmakerused to construct th e edifice of his film. For Eisenstein,a shot has no meaning until it is pu t in contention withanother shot in a montage structure. Montage-a specific kind of editing-is con st ru cted o u t o f shots thataffect on e anotherin particularways. On e shottakeson

meaning in relation to the s ho t that p reced es an dfollows it. Spatial dynamics of th e shot's composition,th e length of th e shot, th e rhythm achieved whendifferent shots of varying visual an d thematic contentare juxtaposed, all contribute to a carefully calculated montage of attractions'. For Eisenstein, montage wasno t merely th e filmmaker's most important tool, pu tth e sign of his aesthetic and political control. Theshot, by itself, is inert, he believed . Making t he s ho t(and, with th e help of his cinematographer EdwardTisse, Eisenstein filmed powerful an d dynamic com-

o positions) was only craft. Turning th e shot into atemporal structure of rhythmic, conflicting, kineticmontage was th e director's art.

For Eisenstein, editing no t only created a visualdynamism of conflicting forms, bu t it had th e potentialofbeing a cinematicequivalent of Karl Marx's theory ofdialectical materialism. Through th e interaction oHorman d content between shots, by th e way on e shot determined th e meaning ofthe preceding orfollowing shot,Eisenstein believed he could create a third thing, a

d i a l ~ c t i c a fsynthesis of idea, emotion, perception,that would, in turn, create an intellectual perceptionof revolutionary history for th e viewer. Montage, inshort, wa s atool that allowed th e filmmaker to addresshistQry, as well as art, in a dialectical way_

Ei§enstein believed so profoundly in th e basic, drivi aeSthetic an d ideological force,of montage that he

saw it developing in literature a nd t he arts before film.Montage was an aesthetic event waiting ,to be politicized with th e invention of cinema.

. Analysis of the form of th e cinematic

. text c o n c ~ n t r a t e son t he t wo basic

building blocks o f film t h ~shot and th ecut an d on the structure that comes

, into being when th e f i l m ~ sassembledth e combination of shot a nd c ut that

th e finished film.



RITI L pPRO HES

. , : :1 .J A ~ a ; ~ ~ ~ ~ i nwas ~ ~ t a ; f i l n i m ~ k ~ rA r i t i ~an d film

theorist who was active from the end of th e SecondWorld War until his death in 1958, he influenced ageneration of directors an d is considered to be th efather of the French New Wave. Bazin s film-aestheticis directly opposed to Eisenstein s. For Bazin, editingwas th e destruction of cinematic form, indeed thedestruction of th e essence of c inema. For him, it isth e shot, th e unedi ted gaze of th e camera onto th eworld before its lens, that constitutes cinema s aesthetic core. If Eisenstein s aesthetic was political at itsroot, Bazin s was religious an d founded in th e faith thatthe cinematic image could reveal th e world in fact andspiritand confirm th e temporal and spatial therenes,s ofthe world with th e camera s meditative eye.

Editing, according to Bazin, denies that faith,because it cuts off th e filmmaker s an d th e film viewer s

o p p 6 r t u ~ t y t o s e e l ~ t o t h ew h ~ l e n e s ~ a ncontinuitYtime and space. Editing is manipulative; it forces usse e what th e filmmaker wants us to see The shotreverential. Political, too An uninterrupted shot, pferably in deep focus an effect of lens an d lighting tmakes everything in th e composition, from th e closobject in the frame t o the farthest, appearto be equaclear) might create a kind of democracy of perceptioThe viewer would be free to pick and choose whatlook at within the frame, ratherthan havethefilmmakerpick ou t what he or she considers important by cuttand foregrounding specific faces or objects.

Bazin/s cinema is painterly. It depends upon compsition, lighting, an d th e profound revelatory effectth e camera s gaze . The const ruc tion of mise-scene the complex articulation of space throucomposition, light, and movement is pre-emine



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;ihSaziri s t h ~ o r y t r ifact ;Saiii1 J s ~ s· t h ~ e ~ k ; : ; p i eofpainting to describe th e prehistory of cinema, th e earlyand ongoing urge of th e imagination to preserveimages of th e world. In a sense Eisenstein s is a painterly cinema too a dynamic kinetic fonm analogous toCubism an d Russian Constructivism an art movementcontemporary with Eisenstein s filmmaking). Th e difference is that, for Bazin, th e image an d its complex construction is primary; so is th e spectator s gaze, liberatedto roam th e image and connect its internal parts. Bazinasks th e spectator to look an d pu t th e parts o f t heimage together to achieve understanding throughcontemplation. For Eisenstein, th e viewer must respond to th e invisible space that is created by imagesin conflict. The spectator responds to th e dialectic ofmontage an d th e revolutionary history it articulates.

Eisenstein s c on ce pt o f mon tage d o mina ted filmtheory arid some film pract ice for a brief period theFrench avant-garde movement of th e 1920s an d th e

American documentarists of th e 1930s) an d thenwaned. Its only appearance in Hollywood cinema wasthrough th e work of an editor named Slavko Vorkapich,who created montage sequences for such 1930s filmsas an Francisco 1936) an d Mr Smith o es toWashington 1939). The Bazinian aesthet ic of th elong take ha d a broader history an d a powerful influence. Bazin looked to th e work of Erich von Stroheim, W. Murnau,Jean Renoir, Orson Welles, William Wyler,and the films of th e post-war Italian Neo-Realists Roberto Rossellini, Vittorio De Sica, especially) as

; examples of th e cinema ofthe long take. Thefollowers. of Bazin, from Jean-Luc Godard and r n ~ o i sTruffaut

to Michelangelo Antonioni, Bernardo Bertolucci, -the,Greek director Theo Angelopoulos, and th e Britishfilmmaker Terence Davies to name only a few),,c,Jepend upon th e complex g az e o f th e camera rather than editing to construct their mise-en-scene and from,jt,their narrative. It can be said, with strong empirical;eVIdence, that any filmmaker who sets o ut t o make afirm that is cOLjnter to th e structure th e dominant;ollywood cinema t u ; s no t to Eisenstein, bu t to th e

; ~ i n e m athat Bazin applauded and championed th e c;iriema of th e long take, of coherent mise-en-scene. : ; ~ T h econcept of mise-en-scene attracted th e atten

lion of critics as well, Cahiers u cinema the Frenchl,6urnal Bazin helped found), as well as th e British jour ~ l IMovie along with writers such as V. F. Perkins an d: tay mond Durgnat, pursued th e idea of th e shot an d ts

onstituent parts as th e defining elements of a film. In/ ance England, an d th e United States, study of mise-

T HE F IL M TEXT N FILM FORM

en-scene, hand in hand with th e auteur theory, helpedto found th e field of cinema studies. A focus on miseen-scene permitted an emphasis upon th e elements offilm that made itdistinctfrom other narrative forms andwas used to explain how images through composition,camera movement, lighting, focus, an d colour, generat e narrative eventand guide our perception through afilm. Mise-en-scene analysis was also a way to connectpersonality, style, and meaning.

Mise-en-scene an d auteur criticism were closelyintertwined within th e analysis of style, an d style wasoften implicitly defined as th e personal expressio[1 ofmise-en-scene. When V. F. Perkins 1972: 84-5) forexample, analyses th e use of colour in Nicholas 5ay s igger than Life 1956), or Terry Comito 1971) talksabout the vertiginous horizon in Welles s Touch of vil

1958); when any n umb er o f critics define F. W Mur-nau s u se of moving camera Otto Preminger s longtakes, or Hitchcock s use of framing to describe his

characters states of mind, th ey a re speaking of th eways in which th e imagination of th e auteur visualizedtheir world in distinctly cinematic ways, Mise-en-scenecriticism served many purposes: it helped concentrateth e critical gaze on th e formal structures of film; itexplored the significance of style in a medium thatfew ha d ever considered capable of manifesting style;an d it helped to determine a field-- --cinema studies---,by proving that both artistic personality and style couldexist in a mass art.

Like auteurism, mise-en-scene criticism was a usefulconstruct, a way of building a critical discourse. Even asit helped define film form an d structure, it was something of an evasion, for ittended to repressthe realitiesof th e dominant Hollywood cinema, whose forms construct most of th e films we see. Because of its place oforigin, this form has come to be known as th e classicalform of Hollywood cinema or, more simply, th e continuity style. It is a remarkable form because of itspersisten ce, its invisibility, and because we learn howt o r ea d it easily an d without any more instruction thanseeing th e films themselves.

he ontinuity style

Eisensteinian montage and th e long-take-deep-focusaesthetic advocated by Bazin are attention-drawingforms. They foreground cinematic structure andmake them part of the narrative movement. They areintrusive in th e sense that they make th e viewer aware



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of which all production parts an d personnel wouldo n h an d an d easily pu t into place in order to crea

, product attractive to the greatest number of peop

Eisensteinian m on ta ge a nd t he long

take-deep-focus aesthe tic advocatedby Bazin are attention-drawing forms

They are intrusive in th e sense that tmake the viewer aware o f t he meanin

making apparatus.

Given th e factthatthe classical style developed pto th e studio system, we can speculate that th e stt ur es o f narrative may have contributed to th e risth e economies of studio production. In other wo

th e development of a means to deliver nalTPtive meaing through an economical visual construction createmplates for th e formation of an industrial mass production of narratives Burch 1990). Early film consisof a presentation of shots in series, each on e of wshowed something h ap pening as in th e Lumbrothers earlyfilm in which a train pulls into th e s taor Edison s first efforts in which a shot showed a msneezing or a couple kissing). Within a few years, during th e t um of th e century, such shots became editogether in th e service of expressing stor es. GeorgMelies made primitive narratives of a trip t o t he m

or a v oy ag e u nd er t he sea in which different shosucceeded on e another. Porter s h Great T o ery reflects a more complex process in whparts ofthe narrative that are occurring simultaneouslbu t in different spatial locations, are placed on e ath e other Gaudreault 1983). On e site where th ecess of establishing th e cont inuity style canobserved is th e series of films made by D. W. Griffor th e Biograph Company from 1908 to 1913. Griffmade more than 400 short films during that period,in t he m w e ca n se e the development of what woubecome the basic principles of continuity: an appareseamlessness of storytelling; th e movement of charters an d story that a pp ea r t o b e flowing in ar orderlogical, linear progression, with th e camera positionin just th e r ight place to capture th e action withbeing obtrusive; and, perhaps most important ofan authority of presentation an d expression that eliprecisely th e correct emotional response at precis

CRITIC L PPRO CHES

~ fth e m e a n i n d ~ ~ k i n ~ / a p p a r a t u ~ ; i t h ~ yas1<the v i ~ ~ r, ..to look at th e way th e world is being observed an dconstructed cinematically. Despite Bazin s insistencethat th e long take reveals th e world to th e viewer,what more often happens is that it reveals th e cinematic apparatus and its ways of looking. Montage, ofcourse, is dynamic, intrusive: Eisenstein meant hismoviemaking to have a shockeffect, to raise th e bloodpressure and th e intellectual t e m p e ~ a t u t e .He called itth e kino fist . The classical Hollywood style, on th eother hand, asks that form be rendered invisible; thatth e viewer se e only th e presence of actors in an unfolding story that seems to be existing on its own; that th eaudience be embraced by that story, identify with itan d its participants. Unlike montage and th e long take,th e continuity style was neithertheorized no r analysed n ot by th e people wh o developed an d used it atleast); its rules were developed intuitively an d pragmatically through th e early years of filmmaking. The con

tinuity style developed because it worked, and itsworking was measu red b y the fac t that it allowed filmmakers to make stories that audiences responded towith easeand with desire. They liked whatthey saw an dwanted more. We want more still.

On th e level of ideology, th e classical Hollywoodstyle is a capitalist version of Eisensteinian montagean d a secular version of Bazin s deep-focus, long-takestyle. Eisenstein recognized this, an d in his essay Dickens , Griffith, andthe Film Today , wrote about how th eHollywood style spoke th e ideology ofWestern capitalism.) It is th e form that placates its audience, fore

grounds story and characters, satisfies an d creates adesire in th e audience to se e and pay for more of th esame. It is also a form that is economical to reproduce.Once th e basic methodology of shooting an d editing afilm became institutionalized-quite early in th e twentieth century-it was easy to keep doing it that way.Although every studio during th e classical period ofHollywood production roughly between the late1910s to th e early 1950s) performed slight variationson th e continuitY style, its basics were constant an dused by everyone. What this means is when we talkabout the classical style of Hollywood filmmaking, weare talking about more than aesthetics,l bu t about a,larger text of economics, politics, ideology, :and stories-an economics of narrative. Th e Hollywood studiosystem, which was th e central manufacturing arm ofthecontinuity style, qeveloped as many other manufacturing institutionsdid by rationalizing production,creatinga division of labour, an d discovering methods bymeans



Eisensteinian m on ta ge a nd t he l on 9-

take deep focus aesthetic advocated

azin are attention drawing o r

They are intrusive in th e sense that t

make th e viewer aware of th e meaning

making apparatus

Given th e factthatthe classical style developed pto th e studio system, we can speculate that th e sttures of narrative may have contributed to th e risth e economies of studio production. In other wo

th e developmentof a meansto deliver nar@tive meaing through an economical visual construction createmplates for th e formation of an industrial mass pduction of narratives (Burch 1990). Early film consisof a presentation of shots in series, each o ne o f wshowed someth in g h ap p en in g (as in th e Lumbrothers early film in which a train pulls into th e statior Edison s first efforts in which a shot showed a msneezing or a couple kissing). Within a few years, during th e turn of th e century, such shots became editogether in th e service of expressing stori es. Georg

Melies made primitive narratives of a trip to th e m

or a voyage und er the sea in which different shos uc ce ed ed o ne another. Porter s The Great

o ery reflects a more complex process in whparts ofthe narrative that are occurring simultaneouslybut in different spatial locations, are placed on e ath e other (Gaudreault 1983). On e site where th ecess of establishing th e cont inui ty style canobserved is th e series of films made by D. W. Griffor th e Biograph Company from 1908 to 1913. Griffmade morethan 40 0 short films during t h a t p e r

in them we ca n se e t he development of what woubecome the basic principles of continuity: an appareseamlessness of storytelling; th e movement of charters an d story t ha t a pp ea r t o b e flowing in a ~o r d

logical, linear progression, with th e camera p o s i

in just th e r ight place to capture th e action w i t

being obtrusive; and, perhaps most important ofan authority of presentation an d expression that eliprecisely th e correct emotional response at p r e

~ f;;hlch ail p r ~ d ~ c t i o np ~ r t sa rid p e r ~ o h n ; ; ~

on h an d a nd easily pu t into place in order to c rea. product attractive to the greatest number of peopl

CRITIC L PPRO CHES

~ fth e ~ ~ a n i n g - ~ a k i n g i a ~ p a r a t u ~ ; \ h ~ ;~ k t h eviewerto look at th e way th e world is being observed andconstructed cinematically. Despite Bazin s insistencethat th e long take reveals th e world to the viewer,what more often happens is that it reveab the cinematic apparatus and its ways of looking. Montage, ofcourse, is dynamic, intrusive: Eisenstein meant hismoviemaking to have a shock effect, to raise th e bloodpressure and th e intellectual t e m p e r a t u ~ eHe called itth e kino fist . The classical Hollywood style, on th eother hand, asks that form be rendered invisible; thatth e viewer se e only th e presence of actors in an unfolding story that seems to be existing on its own; that th eaudience be embraced b y t ha t story, identify with itan d its participants. Unlike montage and th e long take,th e continuity style was neither theorized no r analysed(not by th e people who developed an d used it, atleast); its rules were developed intuitively an d pragmatically through th e early years of filmmaking. The continuity style developed because it worked, and itsworking was measured by the fact that it allowed filmmakers to make stories that audiences responded towith ease and with desire. They liked what they saw andwanted more. We want more still.

On the level of ideology, th e classical Hollywoodstyle is a capitalist version of Eisensteinian montagean d a secular version of Bazin s deep-focus, long-takestyle. (Eisenstein recognized this, an d in hisessay Dickens , Griffith, and the Film Today , wrote about how th eHollywood style spoke th e ideology of Western capitalism.) It is th e form that placates its audience, fore

grounds story and characters, satisfies an d creates adesire in th e audience to se e (and pay for more of th esame. It is also a form that is economical to reproduce.Once th e basic methodology of shooting an d editing afilm became institutionalized-quite early in th e twentieth century-it was easy to keep doing it that way.Although every studio during th e classical period ofHollywood production (roughly b et we en t he late1910s to th e early 1950s) performed slight variationson th e continuitY style, its basics were constant an dused by everyone. What this means is, when we talkabout th e classical style of Hollywood filmmaking, weare talking about more than aesthetics,l bu t about a,larger text of economics, politics, ideology, ilnd stories-an economics of narrative. Th e Hollywood studiosystem, which wasthe central manufacturing arm ofthecontinuitystyle, developed as many other manufacturing institutions did by rationalizing production, creatinga division of labour, an d discovering methods bymeans



··

te ae.

ds.

priorruce ofrds,..eanatedprostedhich

the rl htm o m ~ n {~ i t o u t~ o w i nth e means bywhich th e response is elicited.

The key t o t he continuity style is its self-effacement,its ability to show withoutshowing itself, tell a story an dmake th e storytelling disappearso thatthe story seemsto be telling itself. This legerdemain was no t a natural

occurrence. The elementsthat

cametogether to makeit possible began as arbitrary, imaginative, an d usuallyintuitive choices. In early cinema t he re w er e n o rulesand no groups that set the standards that woulddevelop into th e ciassical style. The only arbiterswere directors like Porter-and Griffith who tried thingsout, and audiences who responded favourably to th eexperiments an d their refinements.

he k ey t o th e continuity style is its self-

effacement its ability to show without

showing itself tell a s tory and make th estorytelling disappear so t ha t t he story

seems to be telling itself.

There ar e a few basic formal components that weredeveloped by Griffith an d others in th e early 191 as that

established th e classical style. Narrative flow is pieced,together ou t of small fragments of action in such a waythat th e piecing t oge the r goes unnoticed and theaction appears continuous. Seq uences th at o ccu r atth e same t im e b ut in different places are intercut to

create narrative tension. i l o g u ~sequences are con structed by a se rie s of over-the-shoulder shots from,one participant in th e dialogue to th e other. Th e gaze,of th e viewer is linked to th e gaze of th e main characters through a series of shots that show a character an d

, thenshowwhatthe character is looking at. The result ofthese constructions is that narrative proceeds in astraight trajectory through time. Any transitions thatbreak linearity (flashbacks, for example) are carefully

>prepared fo r an d all narrative th re ad s a re sewntogether at th e end. The spectator is called into th e

,:narrative an d becomes part o f t he story s space d. ,Althusser 1977) .

Gr]ffith wa s instrumental in establishing cross1. or intercutting as a primary narrative device. The literaryi ~ q u i v l n tof this device is the simple narrative transi:tion- meanwhile or in another part oftown or later

,.the same d a y - a n d some films borrow these verbal;clues through intertitles or voice-over narration, But

THE F ILM TEXT N FILM FORM

~

implYing such transitions visually is more difficult. Inearly cinema there lurked th e continual concern thatsuch things would be misunderstood. Too much cutting would confuse or trouble th e viewer. But thesefears were rarely realized, an d filmmakers as early asEdward Porter found that as long·as they contained

some kind of narrative glue scenes placed side by sidewould be u nd er st oo d a s occurring either simultaneously, earlier, or later than on e another. Shots of awoman held captive bya menacing male (orcaught insome otherdangerous situation) are intercutwith shotsof an heroic male figure purposively moving in a direction that ha s been established as that of the menacedwoman. The result is quite legible: the man is comingto save the threa tened woman. The p at tem comesfrom nineteenth-century stage melodrama, bu t Griffithwas, imaginative enough to realize that film couldsttetcb its spa tial a nd te mp ora l boundaries Fell1974). His audience was imaginative enough to accept

th e illusion an d substitute th e emotional reality (suspenseful expectation that th e hero will conquer spacean d reach th e heroine in time) fortheforrnal reality (twosequences actually occurring on e afterthe otheron th efilm strip, each sequence constructed in th e studio atdifferent times). The pattern stretches ou t time an dnarrows space providing th e viewerwith a way to enterth e narrative an d be affected by it. Gender is clearlymarked as th e woman-l ike the viewer-becomes th epassive figure, waiting for salvation, and th e mal e th eactive figure, redeemed by his heroism. Griffith didreverse th e roles in contemporary sequences of Intol-

er n e (1916), in which a mother moves to save he rimprisoned son awaiting execloltion.) Even less complicated m nreuvres than th e traversal o f largeareas of phYSical an d narrative space requiredthought an d practice. Take something as simple asgetting a character ou t of a chair, on herfeet and ou tof th e door. In th e Biograph films, Griffith workedthrough th e structuring of this mo ve me nt until itbecame invisible.

What was th e drive to develop such constructions?For on e thing, they allow for a great manipulation ofspace and narrative rhythm. Much of very early cinemaconsisted of a kind of proscenium arch shot, th e camera located at a point at which an imaginary spectatorin an imaginary theatre would best se e an overall gazeatthespace in which events were taking place.This isarestrictive, monocular perspective static an d inflexible. But why create complex editing only to generateth e illusion of a continuous movement? Eisenstein

Ell



f , : ' 'O, ;

RITI L PPRO HES

. .' .: . ; ':.';,.. ' .' _ 0 • , : . . _

'. dk:lri/t. cui: into temporal'linearitY and reStructuredit. He would return to a shot of a person falling, forexample, at a slighty earlier pointthan when he left it,so thatthe inevitable action is retarded, time manipulated. In th e famous plate-smashing sequence in otemkin the single ac t ofan enraged sailor is brokeninto eightseparate shots, each lessthan a second long,which extends the act and emphasizes the fury behindit. Even Griffith wasn't absol ute in his own constructionof linearity. In films during the Biograph period, an dsometimes later, there are occasional sequences ofpeople rising from chairs in which the second shot isearlier in th e trajectory of action than th e first, and theperson appears as if he were getting up twice.

Despite Griffith's 'lapses' in th e continuity cutting hehelped develop, the development of continuity in th eearly 1910s continued to privilege an illusion of linearitY and of unbroken movement ~ l r o s sa series of edits.We can, finally, only speculate on th e reasons after th e

fact. The continuitystyle developed asaway to presenta story in forward progression, not as a way to look athow th e story was created. It generated its own economy, in narrative as well as physical production. Filmmakers developed formal methods that madeshooting relatively quick and easy: shoot whateverscenes are mast economical t o s ho ot a t a given time(shoot o ut o f s eq ue nc e when necessary); cover anygiven sequence from as. many different ar:tgles as possible and with multiple takes of each angle to give th eproducer an d edi tor a lot of material to choose from;edit th e material to create linear continuity, cu t on

movement l keep eyelines matched (maintaining th edirection a person isgazing from on e shatto th e other).Makethestoryappeartotell itselfasinexpensivelyandguickly as possible.

No more interesting an d enduring examples of thecontinuity style can be found than in th e cutting ofbasicdialogue sequences. Even before dialogue couidbe recorded on a soundtrack, the following patternemerged: the dialogue begins with a two-shot of th eparticipants in th e scene. Th e cut ting pat tern thenstarts as a series of over-the-shoulder shots from on eparticipant to the other. Th e pattern rnay be slightlyaltered. For example, shots of just on e oLthe partici ~ t slistening or talking may appear in th e course ofthesequence. Butthe main seriesof shots areover-theshoulder cuts, back an d forth, that conclude with areturn to the original two-shot. A simple dialogue,has, therefore, to be filmed many different times withnumerous takes of th e two-shot and the over-the-

s h o u l d ~ ~~ e t u p s .It' s ~ t : ~ d ~complicated;' bu teconomies are clear. As a normative process, everyoconcerned with th e making of a film knows how to dwith dispatch. The use of over-the-shoulder shmeans that one of the high-priced actors insequence does no t have to be present all th e t imeshot from behind th e shoulder of a stand-in canmade to look just like a shot from behind th e sho,ulof th e primary actor. Th e reverse shots ofthe over-thshouldersequence do no t even have to be done insame place Cut together, keeping th e eyelinmatched, two spaces will look th e same as one. Tprocess results in many shots-many choices-available forthe producer and th e film editor to workwitha much less expensive environment than the stu.floor. Th e result is standard patterns of narrative infmation l comprehensible to everyone from a techniciain th e stutJio to a m em be r o f t ~ eaudience ihtheatre.

An d th e process provides a unifying structure. Thits great paradox. The fragments of over-the-shoulddialogue cutting, o r any other part of th e continustyle, create unity ou t of plurality, focus ou r gaze, sutuus into th e narrative flow an d th e space between thglances ofthe characters. Theories have beem se t fothat th e constant cutting across th e gazes of th e chacters slips us into their narrative space because wecontinually asked by the cutting to expect somethi o r ~Someone looks, a nd w e a re primed to responWhat is th e character looking at? ' And th e next shinevitably tells us, by showing th e person (or obje

being looked at. This play of intercut gazes createsirresistible imaginary world tha t seems to surroundwith character an d actions. It is as if t viewbecomes part of the text, reading th e film an d beiread into it (Dayan 1992). It is this element ofthe irsistible, of desire and its satisfaction, that most cleademonstra tes the staying-power o f t he classical cotinuity style.

Alfred Hitchcock-totake one x m p l ~ creaoverwhelming emotions simply by cutting betweencharacter looking and what th e character is lookingEarly in ertigo 195-8 , James Stewart's Scottie drivethrough th e s treet s of San Francisco, following awoman he has been told is obsessed by someonlong dead. The sequence is made up by a, relativesimple series of shots an d reverse shots. We se e Scotin his cardriving, we se e from his carwindow, as iffromhis point of view, Madeleine's car. Sh e arrives atmuseum. Scottie looks at her, Hitchcock cuts to



w o r k i ~ g ~ l a s sbases h i ~interrogations of form oth e 1 95 05 American mel od rama of Douglas SirThrough these approaches they take th e classicastyle into account , respond to it and, finally, honouit by recognizing it as the ir base. For b et te r o r foworse, th e classical style has survived, an

absorbed, all of the responses to it. Everythinelse stands, finally, in dialectical relationship toThis static, dynamic, dominant, and absorptive textuality embraces th e cultural surround an d articulates th e compleXities of ideology. Th e film texbecomes a rich an d a complex event, reticent anboisterous, asking passivity from its viewers whileprovoking thei r des ire, h id ing itself while announcing its power in film after film.

I LIOGR PHY

Althusser, louis (1977), Ideology and th e IdeologicaState Apparatuses , in Lenin an d Philosophy, trans. BeBrewster (New York: Monthly Review Press).

*Bazin, Andre (1967), What is Cinema?, 2 vols., t ransHugh Gray, i (Berkeley an d lo s Angeles: University ofCalifornia Press).

Benjamin, Walter (1936/1969), T he Work of Art in thAge of Mechanical Reproduction , in Illuminations, edHannah Arendt and trans. Harry Zohn (New YorSchocken Books).

Bordwell, David, Janet Sta ig er , a nd Kristin Thompson 1985 , Th e Classical Hollywood Cinema: Film Style anMode o f Production to 96 (New York: Columbia Unversity Press).

*Burch, Noel (1990), Life to those Shadows (BerkeleyUniversity of California Press). J

Cameron, Ian (1972), Movie Reader (New York: Praeger)Comito, Terry {1971} Touch of Evil , Film Comment, 7 2

(Summer), Three Masters of Mise-en-Scene: MurnauWe/les, Ophu/s.

Dayan, Daniel (1992), The Tudor-Code of ClassicaCinema , in Gerald Mast, Marshall C oh en , a nd LeBraudy (eds.), Film theory an d Criticism (New YorkOxford University Press).

Doane, M ar y A nn e (1987), The Desire to Desire (Bloomington: Indiana University Press).

Eisenstein, Sergei (1949), Dickens, Griffith, and FilmToday , in Film Form: Essays in Film Theory,. ed . a ntrans. Ja y Leyda (New York: Harcourt, Brace, World).

- - (1943), The Film Sense, ed . an d trans. Ja y leyda(London: Faber Faber).

Fell, John (1974), Film and th e Narrative Tradition (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press).

The Hollywood style w as a nd is thedominant s ty le the world over. But

t he re h av e been periods when some

filmmakers consciously worked against

its structures, rethinking its structural

an d semantic codes.·Th e structural principle of this modernist, reflexive

movement was complexity an d mediation, a recognition that the film image an d its editorial structure areno t givens, certainly no t natural, bu t th e constructionsof convention. And what is made by convention canbe quest ioned and a lter ed . The over-the-shouldercutting pattern, naturalized in th e classical Americanstyle, is not necessary; an d most o f the filmmakers ofthis movement avoided it, using instead th e Bazinian

long take, which permitted th e image to be interrogated, found false or adequate, bu t always only arepresentation. This is not a just image, Godardsays. It is just an image.

Vet, no matter how much they u sed film as med-ium of exploration, these filmmakers kept referringto the ir base of American cinema. Alain Resnais sLast Year at Marienbad (1961) is a radical meditationon th e conventions of past an d present tense in filmeditin g, and a remak e of Hitchcock s Vertigo. Antonioni, whose L awentura (1960), La norte (1961),L clisse (1962), Red Desert (1964), an d Blow up

(1966) sho vY an extraordinary commitment to th e

iqea tha t filmic composition is an architecturalform obeying its own rules of narrative logic, keepsplaying his work off against th e conventions of19405 American melodrama. Rainer Wemer Fassbin- .der, th e most Brechtian filmmaker after Godard, andth e on e director mos t c ommi t te d to exploring th e

: , o ; :

CRITICAL APPROACHES<,.: . tt ; _ : i _ < {

questioned whether other images might be used, otherstories betold. Manyofthesefilmmakersworked inthetradition ofthe German playwright and theorist BertoltBrecht, who demanded that a work of art putthe spectator in a specula tive position, reveal i t s ~ i n t e r n l

mechanisms, an d show ho w th e power of th e imagina

tion can work with or against th e power of a culture sdominant ideology. Many of their films were passionately political, speaking th e inquisitive an d correctivevoice ofthe left.



no

ur ior

nd :h i n g C

it

x-,i u · ~

:

xtndh i l ~ ~

Gaudreault Aridrlj U983), Temporality and Narrativity inEarly Cinema 1895-1908 in John Fell ed.), Film beforeGriffith Berkeley: University of California Press

_ 1990), Detours in Film Narrative: The Development

of Cross-Cutting , in Thomas Elsaesser and Adam Barker eds.), arly Cinema Space Frame Narrative L o n ~ d o n

_ British Film Institute).

Kolker Rob ert Phillip 1983), The Al tering Eye New. York: Oxfor? University Press).

THE FILM TEXT ND FILM FORM

1988), A Cinema of Loneliness 2n d edn. New York:Oxford University Pressetz Christian 1977/1982), The Imaginary Signifier;trans. Celia Britton, Annwyl Williams, Ben Brewster, andAlfred Guzzetti Bloomington: Indiana University Press

Perkins V F 1972), Film as Film Understanding n

Judging Movies Harrnondsworth: Penguin).

Polan Dana 1986), Power n Paranoia New York:Columbia University Press

E ll

the film text and film form

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