I've seen the movie before, I even remembered most of the action, I even remembered it when we were discussing the "white supremacy" in the Media Theory class, but what I did not remember is the way images work together in creating a story. The extreme close-ups in slow motion seem to express more that any lines could. Although the story is very powerful, this time, I tried to focus more on the details, the camera angles, the point of view and all the things that really made this movie powerful. The extreme close-ups on the eyes let you see inside the soul of the character, let you decipher if he is "good" or "bad" deep down. It doesn't matter that his head is shaved or that he has a swastika tattooed on his chest, because when you see his eyes you realize that his not a villain.
Since the movie goes back and forth in time, it's very easy for the viewer to distinguish between those two realms: the past (the memory) is always in black and white, while the present is always in color.
You don't sense the music throughout the story, sometimes you don't even realize it's there. That is until you know what's going to happen next, just because of the music. It's this imperceptible presence - like the warmth of a summer wind that bring about salty air from the ocean. Most of the times, you don't even feel it, you don't know that the air you're breathing is salty, until it changes, until it disappears.
There are very few wide shots. It's like it doesn't even matter what's around the characters. Even when you have wide shots, the character stands out, like a pillar, dragging your attention towards him, not letting you focus on anything else, not even for a minute. The camera always tells you where to look and most importantly what to see. Nothing is left to chance.
In the end, when Danny died, I almost started crying. I had seen the movie before, I knew he died in the end, so why did I feel this way? Then I remembered the difference between E.T. and Citizen Kane. We did talk about it a lot and I even started analyzing all the movies I see according to the shots that are used. I guess the close shots that gave me the chance of a glimpse behind the cold shell of the character, broke me down.
Even more, just towards the end, Danny becomes the narrator. And he continues narrating while lying dead on the bathroom floor, as if he were still alive. It's strange, how the camera and the storytelling can make you believe what your heart wants you to believe. I found myself wishing that he was not dead (therefore he is still the storyteller) and that the next scene would be with him lying on a hospital bed...badly injured, but still alive. I knew that was not the case, I knew the movie did not end like that, but I still hoped...as if somebody could feel my prayers and change the ending. I had become so close to the character, because of the closeness between him and the camera. I was never part of that story, but being so close, made me feel like there was no distance between my world and that world. I was no longer the outsider, I was there in the midst of things, seeing, living, feeling everything they felt, I was in each one of the characters, finding myself there and living the story along with them, every step of the way.
Since the movie goes back and forth in time, it's very easy for the viewer to distinguish between those two realms: the past (the memory) is always in black and white, while the present is always in color.
You don't sense the music throughout the story, sometimes you don't even realize it's there. That is until you know what's going to happen next, just because of the music. It's this imperceptible presence - like the warmth of a summer wind that bring about salty air from the ocean. Most of the times, you don't even feel it, you don't know that the air you're breathing is salty, until it changes, until it disappears.
There are very few wide shots. It's like it doesn't even matter what's around the characters. Even when you have wide shots, the character stands out, like a pillar, dragging your attention towards him, not letting you focus on anything else, not even for a minute. The camera always tells you where to look and most importantly what to see. Nothing is left to chance.
In the end, when Danny died, I almost started crying. I had seen the movie before, I knew he died in the end, so why did I feel this way? Then I remembered the difference between E.T. and Citizen Kane. We did talk about it a lot and I even started analyzing all the movies I see according to the shots that are used. I guess the close shots that gave me the chance of a glimpse behind the cold shell of the character, broke me down.
Even more, just towards the end, Danny becomes the narrator. And he continues narrating while lying dead on the bathroom floor, as if he were still alive. It's strange, how the camera and the storytelling can make you believe what your heart wants you to believe. I found myself wishing that he was not dead (therefore he is still the storyteller) and that the next scene would be with him lying on a hospital bed...badly injured, but still alive. I knew that was not the case, I knew the movie did not end like that, but I still hoped...as if somebody could feel my prayers and change the ending. I had become so close to the character, because of the closeness between him and the camera. I was never part of that story, but being so close, made me feel like there was no distance between my world and that world. I was no longer the outsider, I was there in the midst of things, seeing, living, feeling everything they felt, I was in each one of the characters, finding myself there and living the story along with them, every step of the way.
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