Treat Two: Adaptation article

After an inspiring talk on top screenwriting tips from Henry Swindell at Liverpool JMU yesterday, which ended with a clip from Charlie Kaufman's BFI lecture  which I loved when I first saw the lecture but took on extra meaning for myself yesterday. I'm not going to tell you which clip was shown as you should really watch the whole thing for yourself.

Well, after that, i began thinking of an article I worked on a while back which ended up in SPLICE magazine, like my previous article on Hidden it's aimed at A level students and teachers but if you like the film you may find it interesting.

Adaptation

Introduction

The most favoured line used by audiences in describing a film adaptation is usually dismissive, something like “It wasn’t as good as the book”. The reason for this? “Usually it’s a simple matter of lost intricacy, or bowing to the fears of those who place millions of dollars in a film makers hands.” There are a few exceptions to that rule, successful adaptations which comes down to personal taste, but then there is the film entitled Adaptation (2002), scripted by Charlie Kaufman, directed by Spike Jonze and based on the book The Orchid Thief by Susan Orlean.

It is almost beyond definition, asking many questions from its audience even before you consider the question of film adaptations; their fidelity to the source, and what makes a successful adaptation. Adaptation stares at the process of adaptation long and hard, but is it an actual adaptation?

One thing is for sure Adaptation is a film which focuses on the screenplay, many times over in a self reflexive and intricate way, and for that reason it’s imperative that any exploration of Adaptation should start with Charlie Kaufman.

Before Adaptation, Kaufman was a TV writer, who had broke into movies. Adaptation was his fourth feature screenplay, the second of which to be directed by Spike Jonze, the first they worked on together was the one which broke Kaufman as a surreal screenwriting talent, Being John Malkovich (1999). Human Nature (2001) and Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (2002) followed, until Kaufman and Jonze were to work together again on Adaptation. Before the film was released there was a huge buzz about the pair working together again, especially when people realised that Nic Cage was to be playing a character called Charlie Kaufman, and another called Donald Kaufman.

But it wasn’t to be an original script like Being John Malkovich and his other screenplays, this was to be an adaptation of a book concerning flowers; Susan Orlean’s The Orchid Thief. The book was released in 1998 and explores the arrest in 1994 of John Laroche for poaching rare orchids. Already the book was an adaptation of real events. Kaufman states when asked where he started with the project that the idea started with the book but “I like to be free. I don’t want to know too much when I start. I want to be free to go with it where it takes me.”

So is Adaptation an actual adaptation of the book? Charlie Kaufman didn’t feature in the book so how could he be a character in the adaptation? What is the film Adaptation about; the art of adaptation, Fantasy and perception, Surrealism, Flowers, Humanity, The inter-connectivity of all things, identity crisis, Mortality, Narrative structure, or, all of the above and probably more?

Adapting

Adaptation is a tricky but often travelled road for Hollywood film studios. The website Meta Critic did some research into the numbers of films adapted from pre existing material after they commented that “It appears that no existing concept, however tenuous, can escape the reach of Hollywood studios, who will seemingly devote every resource they have to avoid developing an original idea.” Their findings show that in 2010 only 40% of films came from original ideas, and this figure is decreasing year upon year.

There are many ways to adapt material; stay faithful to the source in every aspect, choose a section of the story to focus upon and hone in on that making it the central narrative thrust, completely change it from top to bottom, or keep true to the essence of the material whilst weaving in your own artistic vision.

This aspect known as artistic vision is usually attributed to directors, who are given auteur status by marketing departments, yet in the sixties the auteur theory was more critic led coming from Francois Truffaut and highlighted in America by Andrew Sarris’ article in the Village Voice, yet in this case it is Charlie Kaufman and his writing which could be attributed auteur status, and whilst Spike Jonze brings this to life in a very creative fashion the focus of this article will be upon the screenplay, as is indeed apt for the film in question.

Kaufman’s ‘auteur status’ stems from the idiosyncrasies of his screenplays as well as the recurring themes throughout all his work, which make his scripts seem so original. Putting himself into the work is the first sign that Charlie Kaufman was doing something completely different with this adaptation of Susan Orlean’s The Orchid Thief, but it wasn’t something that occurred to him straight away. It wasn’t his reason to adapt it. That was because “It seemed not to be a movie, which intrigued me. I liked the book and it wasn’t the kind of thing that I was being sent – I was getting sent the weird stuff because I’m the weirdo. But this was a straightforward book, very well written. I was learning things; it was about flowers – there was very little drama in it. It seemed, “Well it’s an interesting book, why can’t it be an interesting movie?””

It’s this question which drives the narrative of the film. Instead of a straight adaptation of the book we get the story of Kaufman adapting the book, intertwined with his adaptation as he becomes part of the novel. The first line is from Charlie Kaufman himself, played by Nic Cage and it is “Do I have an original thought in my head?” Already taking us into the angst of the screenwriter, and preparing us for the journey of this individual and entirely original adaptation. These two words are a strange juxtaposition in Hollywood – an original adaptation – but that is what Kaufman has created.

Susan Orlean sums up how Kaufman’s adaptation of The Orchid Thief works stating that “strangely, marvellously, hilariously, his screenplay has ended up not being a literal adaptation of my book, but a spirutual one, something that has captured (and expanded on) the essential character of what the book, I hope, was about.” Also finding it very apt that a book on orchids was the one Kaufman chose to adapt in this way, calling it a “strange but perfectly fitting fate for the book. The book’s subject, nominally anyway, is orchids, which happen to be complex organisms that have taken on literally thousands of different forms; they are the most cleverly adaptable living things on earth.”

Meta fiction

What Kaufman created with Adaptation unfortunately comes with a horrible term to pigeon hole it. Whilst Adaptation is a wholly original film, critics would try to label it as meta fiction. The definition of  meta fiction is “a type of fiction that self consciously addresses the devices of fiction, exposing the fictional illusion. It is the literary term describing fictional writing that self consciously and systematically draws attention to its status as an artefact in posing questions about the relationship between fiction and reality, usually using irony and self reflection.”

Meta fiction came into literature upon the wave of the post modernists and is now becoming more and more a part of film language. The most prominent mainstream example of meta fiction can be seen in the Scream (1996-2011) horror film franchise; known for deconstructing the horror genre and the characters being self aware of all the conventions and how to avoid said conventions to not get killed by an avenger carrying out their own horror film.

For a good example of the meta fiction in Adaptation, one of the opening scenes can be used. The scene after the introductory monologue with Kaufman laying out his insecurities against a black screen with the credits opens on the set of Being John Malkovich. The style of the camera is fuzzy and handheld, much like a behind the scenes documentary. A realistic depiction of an exaggerated world, the sound tinny like recorded for someone’s home video.  They are on the set of the ‘Malkovich, Malkovich’ scene, where in the film John Malkovich has entered his own brain portal and everyone has his face, or at least a mock up of that set. The lines of reality are blurred. This is highlighted by the sub headings that introduce members of the crew. Firstly, introducing the location, ‘On the set of “Being John Malkovich” Summer 1998’, then ‘John Malkovich, Actor’, sending up himself by demanding things on set. We then get a super imposed title for ‘Thomas Smith, First Assistant Director’, ‘Lance Acord, Cinematographer’ before the camera pans to Nic Cage and we get the title ‘Charlie Kaufman, Screenwriter’ and this is the first occasion that the reality is subverted, and we’re let in on the meta joke. The audience know that this is Nicolas Cage but now instead of the reality of the ‘real’ John Malkovich we’re being asked to invest in a movie character, drawing attention to the fact that this is a movie, and drawing attention to the fact that we as a member of the audience have to suspend our disbelief.

What is being adapted?

With Adaptation, the self awareness mainly comes during the writing process, so Kaufman is aware he is adapting material and he deconstructs the adaptation process in front of our eyes, showing the audience how he made the choices in the adaptation to adapt The Orchid Thief. To do this Kaufman has to bring to the audiences’ attention the world of the screenwriter, the world of three act structures, inciting incidents and character motivations. This makes it a good film to show students who are undertaking a screenwriting part of the course.

Most importantly, Adaptation introduces Robert McKee’s Story, through Donald and later Charlie visiting his Story seminar as well as through playful discussions on narrative structure. This becomes integral to the plot. Some could argue more so than The Orchid Thief, and I would like to put forward that Adaptation is more of an adaptation of Robert McKee’s Story than it is of The Orchid Thief.

The full title of McKee’s 500 page opus is ‘Story: Substance, Structure, Style and the Principles of Screenwriting’, and alongside this ‘screenwriters bible’ McKee runs hugely popular screenwriting seminars known as the Story Seminar. He is alongside Syd Field and Todorov as ‘experts’ on structure and story, and a controversial figure as derided as he is acclaimed in screenwriting circles. So, how is the film an adaptation of a book and seminar on the mechanics of screenwriting?

Key Scenes

There are some key scenes to look at to understand how an adaptation of the Orchid thie turned into adapting a 500 page book on the mechanics of screenwriting.

The use of McKee’s Story as source material for the Adaptation makes the film a great choice to use in the classroom to look at structure and some of McKee’s screenwriting principles. It also allows for discussion on originality in modern cinema versus the commerce of mainstream action blockbuster fare. And of course allows for a discussion on the process of Adaptation.

The last point made above is a theme repeated throughout the movie but never more eloquently than in an early scene which flashes back ‘Four Billion and Forty Years Earlier.’ After Kaufman asks “How am I here? How did I get here?” we’re treated to a montage of life evolving from scenes of lava and a big bang, through sea creatures, plants growing, dinosaurs being wiped out, time lapse photography of the polar ice caps ascending and descending, and land shifting before we see the rapid rise of mankind through buildings, cities, the whole landscape changing, followed by the birth of a baby. This scene highlights how life has adapted and changed through time to get to the point we are now. At once a comment on adaptation, and how life is constantly changing and evolving, everything is in flux, and also emphasising the point that things need to change to move forward, going against McKee’s principles that must be followed to create a film. These scenes are backed up with many references to Charles Darwin throughout the film. Kaufman even inserts a flashback of Darwin working, and Laroche listens to Darwin’s work on audio cassette in his truck.

In the very next scene Kaufman continues to outline the themes of the film as well as linking the film to McKee’s principles. The scene takes place over a lunch where Kaufman is pitching his adaptation of The Orchid Thief to a studio representative. The first line of dialogue that leaps out is when Kaufman says he wants to “Let the movie exist, rather than be artificially plot driven.” This functions on two levels; one, as a way of dismissing McKee’s methods which Charlie Kaufman does constantly throughout the movie to Donald, and secondly, as a put down to modern mainstream Hollywood and how instead of evolving and adapting they are becoming stagnant, and recycling ideas rather than adapting them and evolving them. This second point is hammered home by Kaufman’s next statement which says he doesn’t “want to cram in sex, guns or car chases.” This functions as another dig at mainstream Hollywood adaptations which exaggerate the material in a lazy attempt for a dramatic resolution, whilst also highlighting the insecurities of Kaufman in adapting an important book. A line which fuels Kaufman’s adaptation of The Orchid Thief, and that sets up the meta joke that underlines the resolution of the film.

Resolutions are alluded to throughout Adaptation. After Kaufman goes on a ‘date’ to the theatre Amelia, his ‘date’, replies that they didn’t enjoy the ending. Later, Donald Kaufman states he liked the film Dressed to Kill until the third act denouement, although he pronounces this wrong, much to his brothers frustration.

The resolution is the main act of the film where Kaufman uses McKee’s Story as his source material, but this is built up first, through the allusions mentioned above and some other choice scenes as well as through the entire structure of the film.

The key scene to build this up, and for the entire structure of the film concerns Kaufman, whilst struggling with his adaptation of the novel, going along to one of McKee’s seminars. Robert McKee is portrayed in Adaptation by Brian Cox. At the seminar he interrupts McKee’s flow with his self hating voice over concerning the failings of his script. McKee then stares at Kaufman continuing with his seminar and saying, “If you use voiceover in your work, my friends, God help you! It’s flaccid, sloppy writing! Any idiot can write voice over narration to explain the thoughts of the character.” This is followed by Kaufman being shot down by McKee in reply to a question he’d asked about his problems adapting The Orchid Thief, which then leads to Kaufman taking McKee aside to have a drink and a quiet word about the adaptation of this novel. McKee advises Kaufman to go back into it and put in the drama. “I’ll tell you a secret,” McKee says, “The last act makes the film. Wow them in the end and you got a hit.”

This scene is the catalyst for one of the film’s most elaborate meta jokes, worthy of another Kaufman, the late comedian Andy Kaufman who would construct elaborate jokes regarding his identity and play with the audience, as seen in the Milos Forman’s film Man on the Moon (1999). After McKee plants the seed in Kaufman’s mind that twin brothers wrote the screenplay to Casablanca, Charlie Kaufman returns home and passes the screenplay to his brother Donald to look at and figure out. The screenplay for Adaptation is attributed to Charlie and Donald Kaufman, but the cine-literate audience will know that Donald only exists within the world of the film. Maybe the two names represent the dual adaptation taking place, Charlie representing the adaptation of The Orchid Thief and Donald representing the adaptation of Story.

The film seems to suggest that Donald is responsible for the resolution of the film. The moment he becomes involved in the script writing process could be seen as Plot point 2, or the moment that propels the action into the resolution of the film.

The resolution involves every Hollywood cliché that Charlie Kaufman wanted to avoid in adapting The Orchid Thief. There is sex between Laroche and Susan Orlean, a car chase and guns, lots of gunfire shoot outs. The film ends with a nonsensical action sequence with all emotions heightened to an unbelievable, but inevitable pitch for your standard Hollywood film. What makes this resolution startling here is the self conscious change of tone from what’s gone previously, it’s like Kaufman has handed the writing over to the part of him that takes guidance from McKee rather than the writer that wanted the film to exist to be free from conventional shackles, or in the world of the film, he’s let Donald write the ending.

It has become apparent that the film has become an ironic adaptation of McKee’s Story. Using the narrative structure as the punch line to the actual film is the very essence of what the film is about on one level. The film itself that is an adaptation becomes about Adaptation, and actually adapts a screenwriting guide. You can’t really get more self referential than that. It heightens its meta fictional content to the point where the audience are fully aware that they are watching a construct, as they are being told every second by the script which intentionally challenges the viewer. But, for the majority of the running time the audience are misled to believe they are watching a constructed adaptation of The Orchid Thief, where really they are watching a deconstruction of Robert McKee’s screenwriting guide, Story.

McKee looks at it this way, “The Orchid Thief could not be adapted, it had to be re invented. Kaufman criss crosses a Disillusionment plot with an Education plot. A disillusionment plot opens with a protagonist at the positive, someone with an optimistic view of the world, then arcs him/her to a defeated, pessimistic end. An education plot is the opposite. It begins with the protagonist at the negative, clinging to a dark, pessimistic mind set. Experience then teaches this character to see life anew, arcing him/her to an upbeat, if not optimistic, sense of world and self. The former is Susan’s story, the latter’s Charlies.”

And through McKee’s interpretation of the film we reach the real resolution, that the process of adaptation is taking from someone else to appease yourself. In adapting Orlean’s book, Kaufman ruins everything that he held in regard about said book, but made peace with himself in doing so. Much like most art, adaptation becomes a cathartic exercise.

Conclusion

The question still remains whether this is an actual adaptation or not. Is it just an examination of the adaptation process. My viewpoint would be that in its structure it adapts McKee’s methods, satirising them at the resolution and therefore, since it’s a film about a writer writing a screenplay, and we are watching that process, I consider it an adaptation of Robert McKee’s story. Yet, Susan Orlean sees it as a spiritual adaptation of The Orchid Thief, McKee sees it as Kaufman fusing two established stories together in a  surrealistic manner. What this highlights is that the film is open to interpretation, and allows the viewer to place his own meaning onto it. In breaking down the barriers of the suspension of disbelief that we’re watching a movie Kaufman consistently challenges the viewer as to what the movie is about, and what type of viewer you are will impact upon the outcome of what you get out of the movie. A passive viewer will see an entirely different movie to an active viewer, a Kaufman fan will see a different movie to a viewer who expected an adaptation of The Orchid Thief.

Adaptation, as well as providing many areas of discussion is perhaps best used to look at spectatorship theories, especially when analysing pre conceived expectations, as most adaptations come with expectations of the pre existing material. Adaptation overcomes this by evolving and adapting into something new; a model which most Hollywood adaptations would benefit from.

Resources

Kaufman, Charlie & Donald, Adaptation: The Shooting Script, Newmarket Press, 2002

McKee, Robert, Story: Substance, Structure, Style and the Principles of Screenwriting’, Metheun Press, 1999

http://www.tabula-rasa.info/Horror/WitchingHour.html

http://dir.salon.com/ent/col/srag/1999/11/11/kaufman

http://features.metacritic.com/features/2011/movie-sequels-remakes-and-adaptations/

Treat One: Hidden

My 12 treats of xmas are back. This year it's going to be a bit  film themed I think as I have a clear out of some of my film journalism. This was an article I wrote for Splice magazine on Michael Haneke's Hidden. It's aimed at teachers of A level Film Studies so hence the title and some of the address in the article.

If there’s only one film you use in the classroom, make it... Caché (Hidden)

by Robin Bell

Caché (Michael Haneke, 2005) is a versatile film to teach, having elements to it that fit into most parts of the WJEC A level Film Studies syllabus. When introducing the film to students I like to begin by showing them the following quote by Jason Solomons from the article ‘We love Hidden but what does it mean?’ in The Observer:

Hidden (Caché), directed by Michael Haneke, has become the topic of heated conversations around water coolers and over dinner tables across the country. It is on its way to becoming the defining film of a generation.’[1]

Most students when confronted by this are infected with a shocked expression and a ‘What? But I’ve never heard of it.’ It’s a real eye opener that the film culture they’re aware of and involved in is only a small portion of what is available, it shows that there exists a whole other film culture that they haven’t touched upon yet, and gives them something to work towards to understand about The Film Industry for Section A of the FM2 paper at As level.

(A word of warning if using Caché at any point of teaching Section A, please remember that the focus for this paper is the American and British film industry; only use Caché to introduce themes which can then be expanded upon and made relevant by examples from the British and American industry.)

Hidden in the industry

The quote from The Observer sparks off a substantial point of debate, that of the importance of critics. In the summer 2009 WJEC FM2 exam paper there was a quote from critic Mark Kermode as one of the stimulus statements from Section A pertaining to this area. His quote concerned Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull ( 2008), of which he states, ‘I heard some bad reviews of the new Indiana Jones movie but it had one of the biggest opening weekends of all time’[2], thus bringing into question the role of the critic: why have critics for film if it still goes on to achieve massive box office takings after being critically panned? In the second part of the quote, Kermode states that the role of the critic is to bring the audiences attention to lesser known films; independent cinema, documentaries, classic re-releases and foreign language films. ‘A critic can draw your attention to a movie you might not have seen. Half of a critic’s job is praising movies. Critics getting behind obscure films can help them find a space in the market’[3] (ibid.). In conjunction with the Hidden article this Mark Kermode quote works perfectly, and shows that independent and foreign language films do have a specific and large audience that maybe the students would have previously overlooked.

The critical status of the film can be further explored by the its appearance in many national newspapers’ film of the decade lists, even topping The Times’ 100 best films of the decade list. This suggests that the film’s themes are the most relevant of the decade, and how ‘presciently the Austrian director Michael Haneke tapped into the uncertain mood of the Noughties’ [4].

Plot

In Caché, George and Anne, a middle class couple, begin to receive surveillance tapes of their house, followed by childlike violent drawings. They go to the police but receive no help. The film then becomes a mystery, conforming to a straightforward thriller genre, with George following clues to locate who is sending these packages, who is filming their house, who is silently terrorising the couple?

George follows the clues, a childish drawing of a chicken with its head cut off being the final piece of the puzzle. The puzzle which has gradually become more personal and associated with George’s past. He reconnects with his adopted brother and confronts the guilt of his past, this being the fact that when George was younger played a cruel trick on Majid to ensure that he was taken away from the house ensuring that the attention didn’t waver from himself. Unfortunately George  doesn’t disclose any of this to his wife, as their relationship and family life crumbles. The guilty secrets from the past have a habit of catching up with you, as George finds out in the most hideous of circumstances.

Michael Haneke

Caché is Michael Haneke’s eighth film (not including his made for TV films), and it picks up on many themes from his previous films. It is typically Haneke in style also. It feels like the culmination of Haneke’s themes to date. This makes it imperative to examine Haneke’s previous work to reap dividends in seeing where Caché has come from.

Haneke’s name is synonymous with intellectual, austere cinema; measured, cold and intelligent; films that have been said to target the head instead of the heart. His first film, The Seventh Continent (1989) is a drawn out, microscopic insight on the final day of a family’s life, as they decide to commit suicide en masse. Taken from a story in the national papers, Haneke unflinchingly recreates the final hours and the deed, as a formal, clinical occurrence. Causing a media controversy by burning a large stash of money, Haneke was amused by the outcry this caused when it was only a small part of a story of a family killing themselves.

Media plays a big role in all Haneke films, taking stories from the news as he did above in The Seventh Continent, a method he used again for 71 Fragments in a Chronology of Chance (1994) whilst the portrayal of violence in the media is confronted in Benny’s Video (1992) and Funny Games (1997). Haneke appears to be especially fascinated with the mediated image. In most of his films TV’s can be seen and heard in the (often middle-class) protagonists’ houses, with themes on the television that correlate or inform the action. In Benny’s Video the titular character’s relationship to the mediated image is his downfall.  The lead character is obsessed with a video of a pig being slaughtered, even though he was actually present when it occurred. For 14-year-old Benny, anything recorded on videotape is inherently ‘better’ and more ‘real’ than what he can see with his own eyes. His constant renting of Hollywood no brain horror films and repetitive watching of the pig slaughter, as well as filming his own life and editing it lead to a blur between reality and the mediated image for Benny – a blur that is fatal when he invites a girl around to his house and coolly murders her whilst the camera is rolling.

Violence is often linked to the media. The example from Benny’s Video above makes the media complicit in the violence; Funny Games assaults its audience by making the spectator complicit with the violence. At one point the perpetrator of violence within the film turns to the audience and winks, breaking the ‘fourth wall’ of the screen and involving them within his deeds.

An aspect of Haneke’s films which stands apart from most film-makers is the way he demands the audience engages with the film and place themselves within the text and consider their role in the problem within society that he is depicting.  No one is safe when watching a Michael Haneke film, especially not the audience.   His spare style creates a sense of paranoia in whatever the proceedings, and also creates a tightrope of non manipulative suspense which makes them feel singular and different to usual mainstream fare.

Caché reading

What is most fruitful for students when first confronted with learning the main distinctive micro elements is to view something far outside their usual experience, allowing them to analyse the micro elements from a new, fresher perspective.  Caché, especially, is good for teaching editing in comparison with a mainstream summer blockbuster.

To begin with, the opening sequence is a great start to bemuse the students, and to make them look harder at the film making process. Audiences are used to openings of films to introduce plot, characters, locations and foreshadow the narrative of the film. Screenwriting guru Syd Field states that the narrative structure of a film should adhere to the rule that the first 30 pages, or thereabouts, of a script (roughly 30 minutes of screen time) should be structured under the heading of Set Up, with the plot kicking into gear around the end of this with Plot Point One. Watchmen (2009) had a music video-like title montage that functioned as a prologue to set up its world and Star Wars (1977) has its world explained through a brief section of opening text, so that the action can commence.

Caché goes for something entirely different, and much more elliptical, but which ends up functioning in exactly the same way. The opening shot shows a street with cars and the focus on a house across the road. The surrounding shrubbery and peacefulness, with only bird song and the sounds of a front door shutting and a solitary cyclist passing, (you can even hear the breeze on the soundtrack it’s that peaceful), suggests a pleasant middle class suburb. The startling aspect of this opening sequence is that the shot holds its position, a fixed camera shot, the credits appear over the top of the image and fade, and the image continues to linger.

What is the point of this shot as an opening? Why has Haneke chosen this? And why does it linger so long? It’s over two minutes of this static camera shot, supposedly filming nothing, just a house in a middle class suburb. Yet, even though there’s nothing in the shot to suggest so, the fact it outstays its welcome creates an unnerving and uncomfortable atmosphere for the viewer, therefore placing the spectator in the position of the lead characters, George and Anne, as they watch back the footage that forms the opening sequence, and we realise that someone is secretly filing their house and then sending them the surveillance footage they have gathered. Somebody knows their every move. This wouldn’t seem so sinister if it wasn’t for the way the opening section is edited and paced, working together with the other micro elements.

Firstly, the mise-en-scène works to achieve setting, and set up the location to match the characters, when we see them after the long opening shot. The expensive, peaceful location shows us the relative comfort of their daily lives. The sound also contributes to the serene effect, turned up really high, enough to pick up distant bird song and quiet footsteps, emphasising the tranquility of the area and the luxury that the couple live in. In isolation these two micro elements create quite a different atmosphere from what becomes apparent when cinematography and editing are thrown into the mix.

The absence of editing is what startles at first. Choosing not to cut away and shoot from different angles showing different perspectives and intensifying the action, is still an editing choice. The decision not to do any of the above is a key decision to making meaning in the opening sequence of Caché.  The length of shot and its lack of movement is what create the discomfort.  The security provided by the mise-en-scène and sound is undercut by the creeping paranoia provided by the cinematography and editing creating a highly uncomfortable mix for viewer.

Violence

The lack of camera movement or editing is a trick used again later in Caché, which this time creates an even more unsettling effect in a moment the whole film builds to, an exceptional creation of shock, but a shock with lasting undercurrents that resonate throughout the rest of the film.

I use this scene in comparison to Reservoir Dogs’(1992) infamous ‘ear slicing’ scene to consider how films depict violence; it is also the most talked about scene from Caché. To deviate away from Cache for a moment to look at how Tarantino uses the camera in Reservoir Dogs. The camera is constantly positioned to tell the story, and to relate to the two opposing forces in the scene. When shooting from the policeman’s perspective the camera is stationary and behind him at a low angle, in the frame you can see the chair that the officer is strapped to, we’re close in to the back of his head, which is a vulnerable position for the character and we’re looking up at the predatory Mr. Blonde. When the camera identifies with Mr. Blonde we are at eye level and constantly moving, following him as he nonchalantly dances belittling the degrading situation the captured officer finds himself in. When the assault actually takes place the tension has been cranked to such a level that the audience are prepared for it, and it’s the fact that the audience are denied the guilty pleasure of witnessing the violence as the camera pans away that causes the discomfort in this sequence. What a spectator can create in their imagination is surely far worse that can be shown using prosthetics and effects. This scene is all about audience identification with the characters, hence the stylistic use of the camera to re enforce character positioning, and building tension to create the shock. You could also refer to the juxtaposition of emotions created by the use of the Steeler’s Wheel song ‘Stuck in the Middle with You’, a breezy MOR pop tune soundtracking brutal torture.

In comparison Haneke’s lack of musical score throughout the whole of Hidden adds to the intrigue, in the opposite way to Reservoir Dogs. In any type of thriller the audience is kept on track with the action and even given audio clues to what is happening by means of the soundtrack. This is a luxury taken away in Caché; with no non-diegetic sounds apparent the viewer is left to decipher the action themselves, leaving Caché a thriller that can create confusion and in the passive viewer.

This lack of soundtrack does help to create tension in the film’s standout scene, an hour and twenty four minutes into the film. By this point the plot has unraveled, we know about George’s adopted brother, Majid, and have been informed of George’s shameful deed in horrifying flashback, to understand their past. George suspects that it is revenge that has made Majid send the offending items and uncover the hidden secrets of the past to George’s family.

After walking purposefully up the corridor towards Majid’s flat, George greets Majid with a threatening ‘What’s going on?’. The tone is already sour, in what the audience feel will be the climax of the film containing the reveal.

George is invited in for a scene which offers much more. Once in the flat the camera is in a fixed position, viewing Majid’s sparsely furnished flat. There are two plastic chairs by a small table, grotty wallpaper, replaced in one patch by a piece of wood. The mise-enscène suggests something only slightly above squalor, the opposite of George’s luxurious abode.

Majid enters, already looking dejected, he holds the door for George who strides in and snaps, still with an aggressive tone ‘What’s this all about?’ Without a musical soundtrack the audience is left to decipher the body language of the characters for clues. George refuses Majid’s request for him to sit down and is impatient, whilst Majid hovers at the door. As the two characters stand facing each other conversing Majid reaches for something in his pocket, but because of the fixed camera position there is no cut away to a close up of it. Before we know it Majid lifts the object – a razor – up to his neck and slits his throat, a spray of blood erupts and shoots up the wall behind him and Majid slumps to the floor.

It’s a sudden moment of intense shock, and it’s over before the audience can register what has occurred. The camera stays fixed as George stares down at Majid’s body. George is rooted to the spot, he can’t move, much like the camera; in contrast to Reservoir Dogs, here a static camera is used to emphasise the shock, and unflinchingly show the after effects.

 Haneke challenges the Hollywood norm of focusing on the violence, to instead concentrate on the aftermath, and make you stare at the grief, the confusion and the hard hitting facts of death. In the scene from Caché George paces the room and begins to feel ill, gagging and the coughing as the realisation of what has happened begins to form, in George’s and the viewer’s mind.

The other reason to use a static camera in this scene is a narrative decision, relating back to the opening sequence, causing an active audience member to consider the way the footage is filmed as a clue that maybe we’re seeing  a recording of this happen, which will then be sent to George.  Whichever way you look at it, it’s the understated use of the micro elements which make this effective. Total Film magazine voted this scene the second most shocking in cinema in the past decade (behind Leonardo diCaprio’s death in The Departed (2006), which is maybe more of a shock because of the star status of diCaprio rather than the way it’s presented). It’s the realism of this sequence in Caché which makes it so effective.

Realism vs. Genre

Even though Michael Haneke’s Caché is closer to being a generic thriller than anything else in his oeuvre is to being generic in any sense, it is still regarded as having the aesthetic of realism. Thus posing the question – are genre and realism opposing forces? Many critics praise the realism of, for example, the Jason Bourne films, but this is a more aesthetic realism tied to the particular genre, Haneke’s realism and shooting style share links with Italian Neorealism.

‘The realism of Italian Neorealism manifested itself in a distinctive visual style. This was typified by a preference for location filming, the use of non professional actors, the avoidance of ornamental mise-en-scène, a preference for natural light, a freely moving documentary style of photography, a non interventionalist approach to film directing, and an avoidance of complex editing and other post production processes likely to focus attention on the contrivance of the film image.’[5]

Haneke doesn’t stringently stick to these principles, but you do find certain aspects of them creeping into his work. Especially, as mentioned previously, the lack of complex editing and a non interventionalist approach. By using these styles the films of Michael Haneke become labeled with words such as ‘formal’, ‘austere’, ‘measured’ and ‘cold’, whilst it is my belief that on most occasions he is just using some of the methods of Neorealism. Maybe the confusion is caused by Haneke’s decision of when to use neorealism, and then blurring this with conflicting stylistic, or maybe generic, choices.

In close comparison to Neo-realist classics such as The Bicycle Thieves (1948) there isn’t much difference, in style anyway; the long tracking shots are similar, as is the lack of editing, the understated performances and naturalistic look. The main difference is in setting, the Neorealist films having the backdrop of a poverty stricken war torn Italy that had lost all its main studios to bombings so were forced into location shoots in run down, bombed cities. Caché on the other hand is set in a luxurious, upper middle-class, peaceful setting. The setting for these stories also dictates the type of characters seen in these stories, so in that respect there is a difference, and also in the way Caché teases its audience with genre trappings.

Haneke himself says ‘It’s what I always try to do in my films, to grasp the contradictions of reality.’[6] Reality in the genre of thriller, which must resort to narrative structure and convention in some way, is a tricky prospect for any filmmaker, even Haneke who is well versed in the realism aesthetic, on the subject of which he says, ‘In a thriller, you have to work on rationality.’ Haneke goes on to explain that using the thriller genre framework for Caché was a type of manipulation on the audience, something to help a spectator through the film by ‘telling the story in little chunks which increases the tension’, and to keep their interest by following the structure of a thriller mystery.  Roland Barthes believes ‘that to create suspense in narrative, there must be unanswered questions which will compel the viewer to anticipate action with a resolution’[7], backing up Haneke’s manipulation.

Where Caché deviates away from the genre, other than the mentioned Neorealist aesthetic is in the narrative conclusion. In most thrillers the audience expect a closed ending, with every question resolved; another narrative convention of the thriller is the twist ending where a shock occurs that propels the film into the resolution stage. Caché, it could be said, doesn’t even offer a resolution, but

the ending does have a twist, revealing something previously hidden, something that also has larger social and political relevance. But, this is not made clear; in fact the film works just as well without noticing what is in the corner of the final wide shot. Even if you do notice the hidden clue in the final shot, it still leaves an ambiguous ending for the audience to come to their own conclusions over.

The final shot of Caché is, like the first, a static camera, wide shot, here focused on school steps packed with students. The credits appear over it slowly, so many audiences might not be paying attention at this moment. It is now that Haneke subverts the thriller by placing a twist at this precise moment.  For on the steps, in conversation, are George and Anne’s son, Pierrot, and Majid’s son, both of them symbolising the next generation. Are they, or have they been plotting all this together, or is Majid’s son confronting him with what has occurred, bringing the lies and what has been hidden to the fore?

To quote (and in part paraphrase for clarification) from an interview with Michael Haneke conducted by Serge Toubiana, on his reasoning for the ending of Caché, to help clarify the points outlined above:

‘The final shot is completely mysterious. It’s completely ambiguous. I always ask people, ‘What did you see in the last shot?’ There are those who say, ‘I’ve understood it’s about the next generation who are going to inherit this problem, and others who have seen them but wonder why they are meeting, but I won’t say what it is, the question must remain for the audience. Only half the audience recognise them, because it is quite a wide shot, the other half hasn’t noticed them, but they liked it for that. A doctor friend of mine who I showed the film to told me for ten minutes how great he thought the final shot was, then I realised he hadn’t noticed them. I think that’s a great success, because I wanted to find a position with people in front and behind who you might see or you might not see, and it works. It provokes discussion afterwards. You can imagine a lot of things. You could imagine that they are accomplices, or that Majid’s son comes along and tells Peirrot some lie to lead him off somewhere, and it’s up to the audience, not to choose between the possibilities but to understand that there are lots of possibilities to a story like this one.  The ending can be irritating, because if you are used to everything being resolved at the end of the film, you’re naturally [adopts shocked expression]. There’s still work to be done. It’s not the preference of a lot of people who go to the cinema. It can be a problem for people brought up with mainstream cinema, who want to know that they can come out at the end of the film and be able to forget what they have seen.’[8]

Themes

Caché works especially well if used in conjunction with The Battle of Algiers (1966), a film about the Algerian War of independence that covers the period between 1954 to 1957. One of Caché’s themes is how this conflict continues to resonate. Peter Bradshaw from the Guardian calls Caché ‘a parable for France's repressed memory of la nuit noire, the night of October 17 1961, when hundreds of Algerian demonstrators in Paris were beaten and killed by the police.’[9]  Caché uses this huge story of nations and boils it down into an individual’s story, making the audience relate to the guilt and feelings involved and using these characters to symbolise the bigger picture. The nation’s guilt is symbolised through George and all his secrets that he keeps as close to his chest as the nation’s secrets.  Haneke explains the theme of guilt in the film, by stating it is the main reason for making it: ‘The film is a moral tale. On the theme of how can I bear the fact of being guilty. Do I accept it? And if I don’t accept it, what do I do?’[10].

George’s guilt is represented through flashbacks which could be either memories or dreams, something Haneke also leaves up to the viewer’s own discretion stating that ‘You can interpret it as you like, but this nightmare is the impression that he has. It’s a dream, not a memory.’ The first of these violent visions has a child beheading a chicken and approaching another child with the axe while the chicken flails around the barn floor. The visions go on to show how George, when met with the prospect of having Majid, an Algerian orphan move in with their family, became jealous and exacted revenge by concocting a plan to get rid of him. Because of his fear of not getting all the attention and being as spoilt and loved by his parents, a rational feeling for a child, George ends up doing the irrational and destroying the threat’s life, meaning that Majid has to leave the house, after George orchestrates a situation in which Majid must take the blame.

George hides Majid’s story from his wife, his family, and refuses to talk about it until the videotape of Majid’s suicide is sent. The unspeakable treatment of Majid is something that tortures George, in the way events from the 1961 riots now embarrass a multicultural France. Although George, an upper middle-class white man who works in the media, is in power he still fears Majid, linking to the insecurities of pampered Westerners against anything different from them, but especially the Muslim world. This is the main focus of Caché, to put this large scale political struggle into a small individual context. As Haneke explains ‘Let’s say it broadens the personal problem onto a national problem.’[11] Caché goes on to show that without dialogue about the past, guilt will grow and what is hidden will destroy any chance of integration in society.

Incorporating Caché into your Film Studies syllabus

Students might not pick up on all the issues discussed here without some background knowledge beforehand, but they should identify Haneke’s use of film form to create an uneasy atmosphere of ominous dread throughout the film. There is no doubt that students should end up taking something away from the film. Below is outlined the myriad of ways in which Caché can be used in teaching Film Studies.

·         FM1- Exploring Film Form- An innovative approach to the micro elements an invaluable lesson in analysing a lack of editing to create an effect and also how micro elements work off each other to create different atmosphere’s and emotions in scenes.

·         FM2- British & American Film- Not to be used too heavily in this section as the main focus is British and American films but it can introduce learners to the culture of foreign language film, and to see how it is regarded critically.

·         FM3- Film Research and Creative Projects- Michael Haneke’s work can be explored in many different ways in this module, as an auteur, through themes in his work, or to pick apart some of the key social and political themes in Caché.

·         FM4- Varieties of Film Experience- Issue and Debate- If  choosing to focus on Italian Neorealism and Beyond for Section A of the FM4 exam in A level film Studies, when looking for what has become of Neorealism, and how it’s style of filmmaking is used in modern filmmaking. Caché could also be used in Section B of this module when looking at Emotional Response, in particular to focus upon the creation of shock in the scene where Majid commits suicide in front of George.

Finally to touch briefly upon an aspect of Haneke’s filmmaking I mentioned earlier, his position on violence, which is overt in most of his films. In Cache violence is used to demonstrate the extremities of what can occur when hiding guilt, and are shown as a heartbreaking consequence rather than something used for an action orientated and ‘cool’ aesthetic.  Violence is rarely shown in Haneke’s films but is very often the device used to bring out other issues. This film making device continues to be used by Haneke, surfacing again in his latest release, The White Ribbon (2009), which won the Palme D’or at last years Cannes film festival. In The White Ribbon the violence is again shown to be passed on from generation to generation, it’s something that Haneke sees as a problem that will endure through the generations, hence his stance on not glamorising it. The lack of violence may be one of the aspects of the film students may find the oddest, isn’t it strange that having a moral conscience may be found at odds with modern film making.

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[1] http://www.guardian.co.uk/film/2006/feb/19/worldcinema

[2] www.metro.co.uk/fame/interviews/article as of 10th June 2008

[3] www.metro.co.uk/fame/interviews/article as of 10th June 2008

[4] http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/film/article6902642.ece?token=null&offset=96&page=9

[5] Italian Neorealism: Rebuilding the Cinematic City, Mark Shiel, Wallflower Press

[6] An Interview with Michael Haneke by Serge Toubiana, found on the UK DVD release of Caché

[7] http://www.routledge.com/textbooks/0415371430/pdfs/thriller.pdf

[8] An Interview with Michael Haneke by Serge Toubiana, found on the UK DVD release of Caché

[9] http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2006/jan/27/2

[10] An Interview with Michael Haneke by Serge Toubiana, found on the UK DVD release of Caché

[11] An Interview with Michael Haneke by Serge Toubiana, found on the UK DVD release of Caché

Interviews

It's a strange feeling being interviewed. It does help when you're asked good questions, stuff to really think about. and that's what happened in two interviews I've done recently. Both focus mainly on Twisted Showcase, but the Writesofluid interview encompasses quite a lot of my writing, you can read that one here

The other interview features on the Cultism podcast, the Twisted showcase bit with me can be heard about 19 minutes in.

Thanks to Michelle Goode, Ian Todd and Harry Medium for the coverage.

Twisted Showcase is back! Series 2

In March we launched our no budget web show Twisted Showcase, our biggest honour from Series 1 has to be our placing in the Guardian Guide's top 25 web TV shows list alongside David Lynch, John Woo and Vic and Bob. And now, we're back for Series 2.
The fact we've been working on Series 2 is my first excuse for the lack of updates on my blog. The second excuse is that I accidentally deleted the note off my phone with all my blog ideas in it. Doh!
There is a trailer for series 2, and there will be more news in the next few weeks before episode 1 on the 25th September. So keep checking www.twistedshowcase.com 

BBC Writers Festival

I've left my blog about the BBC writers festival for a few days, just to allow myself to process the events. I arrived the night before the festival, on the Tuesday, and three days later was spat out the other side full of information and fizzing, like a shook up can of pop, with excitement. I've now had enough sleep that I have sorted through everything that happened and can hopefully put it into some semi coherent order.

Drinks on the Tuesday involved meeting lots of lovely writers and since this was the first time at the event for me, meeting other writers was an exciting highlight and to hear what they were working on and to share Twisted Showcase with them was quite brilliant. We might not have put the world to rights, but we put TV & Film to it.

The main event started midday on the Wednesday, but not after breakfast at a pub that claimed to have the 'best sausage in Leeds', they were good but if that's the best sausage Leeds has to offer I'll be surprised. The writers festival kicked off with an opening speech from Peter Bowker, which can be found on the Script Angel blog, thanks Hayley.

After that it was every writer for themselves, as there were choices as to what talk you wanted to go to. Choices which almost everyone i spoken to had forgotten which one they were in. Luckily boards were in the foyer letting you know which talk you were in, I was in Creating Contemporary Coppers.

Chaired by Toby Whithouse, this session featured Ashley Pharoah and Stephen Butchard, and everyone was treated to a tense and brilliant clip from Stephen Butchard's upcoming TV Cop drama 'Good Cop'. Other advice I picked up from this session was to have something unique about your police drama pitch, but don't try to be too unique, which reminded me of what Steven Moffat had to say about Elementary the CBS adaptation of Sherlock Holmes. On the flip side of creating cop shows with a unique element, both writers admitted that a return to the traditional cop show could be the way to go.

The next session I went to was by Peter Bowker and Patrick Spence, entitled Hanging in There and was about really believing in your ideas, your script and doing as it says in the session title. For evidence of how tough it can be Peter Bowker offered up his experience writing Occupation with took four years, twelve drafts with eight of those drafts being from scratch. Ouch.

There was plenty of choice for each session and I won't go into detail on all the session i went to as what is equally important about the festival is meeting new people and chatting in between sessions and across the road in The Wardrobe, which is actually a pub not a wardrobe.

I won't list the people I chatted to, and went on to one of the best curries I've had, there are far too many. By the  end of the night i must have told the story of how we made Twisted Showcase for no money and then got named in the top 25 in the. Guardian at least a hundred times.

Day 2 of the festival started early. I count 9 am as early, after a cup of tea and some more good chat I was ready for another day which kicked off with a John Yorke masterclass. After which i went to The Reality of Film a session with Joe Oppenheimer, Executive Producer for BBC films. He revealed that BBC films have an annual budget of 11 million, are obsessed with cast, they have stopped doing romantic comedies, make 8-9 films per year, amongst other advice and statistics.

The last two session involved Meeting the commissioners of BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and Sky, and then an entertaining session with Toby Whithouse and Jack Thorne about setting up fantastical worlds where one of the main messages was that budget necessity can become a virtue.

So, all in all, a great festival with interesting sessions, but the highlight for me was probably meeting so many interesting people all with the same passion as me, writing. Also I got to introduce many people i admire to Twisted Showcase including Toby Whithouse and Jack Thorne and then to put the cherry on top since I wasn't sure of my way to the station a walk and a chat with Peter Bowker as my guide. Who inspired me just as much on that walk as he did in his introductory speech.

Bring on next year.

10 tips for creating a top 25 web series

We were very surprised when the Guardian named us one of the top 25 web TV shows you must see. I think we’re one of only two British entries, the other being the legends that are Vic & Bob (I haven’t checked this so if you’re a British web series that we’ve missed that was included please let me know). We never dreamed of being included on such a high profile list, but we were so I guess we must be doing something right; here are some things we tried to do or learnt from making the first batch of Twisted Showcase films that might help with your endeavours. I hope they do.

·         Script – It all starts with the script. It really is the most important aspect. If the script is bad there is no way the film is going to work. Each script we used got extensively drafted. At first we were nervous about asking for rewrites. Who were we to ask people to change their scripts?  Well, we were the people making the series who had a vision of what they wanted, what we thought worked, and didn’t. We know there are better looking web series’ all over the internet than ours, we were only a small team working with no budget, and hence why we put so much emphasis on the script. If there is interest we will put the drafts for Eyeball up on the website as that script went through the most drastic changes as me and Rhys Jones sent drafts back and forth between us.

·         Aim high – We made Twisted Showcase with what we had, which was literally nothing. We borrowed cameras and begged favours. Sometimes we were turned down, a cameo appearance on Casualty scuppering us on one occasion.  Then Gareth David Lloyd said he would be in an episode, something we never felt possible and which elevated the series.  As well as casting we also felt we aimed high whilst promoting the series, getting far more coverage than we anticipated. Much thanks to SFX, Cult Box, Dread Central, Gores Truly, Blogtor Who, Doctor Who magazine, Guardian Guide, Blazing Minds and anyone else who covered us, it was all unexpected.

·         Involve people – Another early decision was to make Twisted Showcase inclusive. We could have gone and wrote every episode ourselves, once you start getting weird and strange ideas it’s quite addictive and they just seem to flow. But we wanted to work with other writers, we also wanted to let as many people who want to work in the crew come along and help. And people who watched the series and enjoyed it, we wanted them to feel a part of the Twisted Showcase world too, and twitter was a great way to do this. Just another reminder, we’re open for scripts at the moment, have a look at our episodes and get submitting.

·         Look good - We are very lucky to have a brilliant logo by Jonathan Edwards. We asked for something that mixed the domestic with the weird. And he delivered. I still like looking at it, and you can get it on a T shirt here. We’ve kept our website pretty basic at the moment, but it’s something we keep looking at expanding and making better.

·         Hard work- The most obvious one I guess. March (was it that long ago), was an intense month, which we probably didn’t prepare for as well as we could. We were still editing some of the films, putting together the title sequence, the trailer was a last minute thought, and we were putting together lists of where to send the press release as we were doing it. Every day was a day to come up with ideas of how to get the name Twisted Showcase out there. That’s only half the story; setting up these films can be difficult. Getting everyone to be available on the same day can be a nightmare, but it’s so rewarding when people see your hard work.

·         One day shoots– This is a difficult one, and one that you could most easily disagree with. It works for us, and make you really work and honing that script down into a an easy to film short film, because it’s so easy to write a script and not think about budget or anything, and it is the strangest things sometimes which are difficult to film. If something has multiple locations it can become a nightmare to get done in a day. Being clever about this was pretty tough, Fear of Living for example all takes place within one house but uses nearly every room of that house. We decided early on to have that juxtaposition of the domestic and mundane to frame the eerie and weird and this helped make shoots a little easier, and hopefully scarier to as the everyday being infiltrated with something to fear is often worse than your most flamboyant imaginings.

·         Catchy title – Twisted Showcase say all you need to know about our show really, and it’s really catchy. Short and to the point. We think so anyway.

·         Have other stuff to put up– Someone might be interested in any aspect of the production. We’ve had commentaries, which usually result in giggling, behind the scenes (also giggling),Outtakes (giggling),  alternate takes,  podcasts, (giggling), interviews, preview pictures, behind the scenes shots. Anything else you’d like to see let us know. All this should keep people checking on the site, although nothing beats the thrill of a new episode.

·         Coherent world, theme, tone – We don’t have an ongoing storyline. We don’t even have a set genre, and hopefully Bob Dracula surprised a few people after the psychological horror of Fear of Living the week before. But we felt something held these episodes together, they could all happen within the same world or something about the tone of the series made them Twisted Showcase. They were all weird tales, they fitted. However disparate your web series is/will be make sure something binds it and makes it coherent something that the audience relate to your name.

·         Luck- We know that getting in the top 25 web TV shows in the Guardian guide must have involved a lot of luck. We’ve made the series with no budget and not spent on advertising it, we relied on our press release getting us out there. Every bit of coverage we received was down to luck, and getting the shoots done on time each time was all down to good luck and some great talent in front and behind the camera. So many things can and do go wrong, sometimes you need a bit of luck.

Finally, something I think is second nature to any creative person, be it film maker, writer, or whatever, everyone always tries to get better, and not to get complacent. This is what we tried to do with Twisted Showcase, to push ourselves in every aspect, make films, learn from mistakes, get better, try different things, try and surprise people, which hopefully we’ll do even more when we return. This isn’t a comprehensive list but stuff that occurred to me and may help you and your web series, or any project you may have on the go. Get out there, do it is the best advice anyone can ever give. Then let me know about what you’re working on in the comments.