Essay about Narrative Voice of Frederick Douglass
To return to the notion of "Three Women" as an objective representation of a soul/consciousness peering through windows into the world: That is what all of us found ourselves doing at birth, we do it every day, and some of us are really good at it. It is our habit, though, to do the peering ourselves, and to expect that the things we see outside the windows will be objective and consistent enough to permit us to weigh, touch, smell, or hear them, and arrive at decisions about them. Traditional narrative films are objective and consistent, and therefore often eminently satisfying to our expectations. But the film medium is so fluid, flexible, and complete that it makes a altogether different kind of experience possible if filmmaker and filmgoer conspire to let it come about. The capacity of film to be escapist, voyeuristic, sensual, nonverbal, and encompassing is also what allows a film to imply soul/consciousness looking out through windows at ourselves. And it is just here that two minds can touch.
Narrator Voice - Essay by Iluvbooks7 - Anti Essays
We can see this approach developing in the films after "M*A*S*H." Altman handles it awkwardly in "Brewster McCloud" (1970), with its strange tale of a young boy who lives in an unmarked room in the Houston Astrodome and is tutored by a fallen angel as he tries to build wings that will let him fly. Altman, who stands behind all of his later films, insists that "Brewster McCloud" rewards additional viewings, but it has not rewarded mine. Yet it does, like his other films, occupy the center of a community of people, of purposes that are common or crossed. It is not just the story of the boy but of the immediate society which has to decide what it thinks of him. "McCabe and Mrs. Miller," discussed above, is about community almost to the exclusion of narrative. McCabe walks into a smoke-filled frontier barroom with its half-heard conversations, its laconic asides, and becomes one of its regulars. As he attempts to become an entrepreneur through the construction of a bordello and the importation of Mrs. Miller and her troupe of prostitutes, the community carries on its daily affairs all around him. Church services are held. Community baths are taken. When a young boy is shot dead because he was unfortunate enough to find himself crossing a footbridge at exactly the same time as a hotheaded young killer, it is the whole community that absorbs the event, and mourns it. "California Split" (1974) is at pains to place its two compulsive gamblers within a clearly seen gambling community. Altman’s stylistic approach is especially evident here in a scene where the protagonists are shown into a room where a high-stakes private poker game is in progress. Murmurs on the sound track introduce the players, whose long-standing rivalries and friendships are taken for granted: We arrive, as we so often do with Altman, .
Painters made their fundamental discoveries centuries ago; filmmakers are still making theirs today. The freeing of painting from subject matter—nonrepresentational, abstract art—has already, of course, been reflected in countless avant-garde films. But in terms of how we still look at mass-market narrative movies, a more useful parallel might be drawn between the state of feature films today and the development of attitudes toward art in the Renaissance. Paintings then were supposed to be about something, to illustrate, to lecture, to instruct the common people about the glories of God, the doge, or the Medici. The painters themselves knew better. There is the famous story of Veronese, unveiling his “Last Supper” with its sacrilegious supporting cast of dogs, monkeys, and Germans, and ordered by the Venetian Council of Ten to alter the painting or be put in prison. Unveiling the same painting the second time, Veronese explained that it had indeed been altered: Its title was now “Feast in the House of Levi.” The movie audience today is a mass Venetian tribunal, demanding, whether consciously or not, that movies mean something, and say what they mean, and look as if they mean it.
Below are two real life examples of narrative summary
I have expressed concern about our obsessive love for narrative, our demand that movies tell us a story. Perhaps I should be just as concerned with what television is doing to our ability to be told a story. We read novels for many reasons, E. M. Forster tells us in a famous passage from , but most of all we read them to see how they will turn out. Do we, anymore? Traditional novels and films were often all of a piece, especially the good ones, and one of the pleasures of progressing through them was to see the structure gradually revealing itself. Hitchcock’s frequent practice of “twinning” is an example: His films, even such very recent ones as "" (1972), show his delight in the pairing off of characters, scenes, and shots so that ironic comparisons can be made. Is the mass audience still patient enough for such craftsmanship? Or has the violent narrative fragmentation of television made visual consumption a process rather than an end?
narrative voice in pride and prejudice Essays - …
When that happens, the film apparently breaks. Bergman, in his original screenplay (which the film itself does not always follow), discusses the abrupt interruption of the images that occurs: “At this point the projector should stop. The film, happily, would break, or someone lower the curtain by mistake; or perhaps there could be a short circuit, so that all the lights in the cinema went out.” And then, continuing in a remarkable passage, he seems to suggest the sort of nonnarrative cinematic effect we have been discussing: “Only this is not how it is. I think the shadows would continue their game, even if some happy interruptions cut short our discomfort. Perhaps they no longer need the assistance of the apparatus, the projector, the film, or the sound track. They reach out towards our senses, deep inside the retina, or into the finest recesses of the ear. Is this the case? Or do I simply imagine that these shadows possess a power, that their rage survives without the help of the picture frames, this abominably accurate march of twenty-four pictures a second, twenty-seven metres a minute” (Bergman, "Persona").
Narrative dialogue essay example ..
I am enough a member of the generation that went to the Saturday matinees of the 1940s to love fine narrative movies (I sometimes list among my favorite films Hitchcock’s "Notorious," ’s "," and the first Humphrey Bogart classic that comes to mind). But I believe the future of feature films as an art form lies in the possibilities beyond narrative—in the intuitive linking of images, dreams, and abstractions with reality, and with the freeing of them all from the burden of relating a story. I certainly do not believe the day will come soon when large audiences forsake narrative. But I am concerned that three things are slowing the natural evolution of cinema—the eminence of the “event film” (already discussed), our obsessive insistence on a paraphrasable narrative, and the reduced visual attention span caused by over-consumption of television.