Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Ada and Baines in The Piano

The relationship between Ada and Baines in Jane Campion's The Piano (1993) is a peculiar one with blurred lines of consent. While Ada grows to love Baines, their initial relationship is perhaps more unsettling. Ada, a mute Scotswoman, is sold into marriage by her father to a New Zealand man named Alistair, but his friend Baines is drawn to her and her piano playing. He keeps her piano, which had been stranded on the beach, at his home, even retuning it for her.

Baines tells Ada that she will let her buy the piano back one key at a time if she lets him do "things he likes" while she plays. Ada renegotiates, allowing him to do these things in exchange for the black keys. If rape is defined as "any act of sexual intercourse that is forced upon a person," then surely Baines' coercion and manipulation could be classified as rape. Their sexual relations were not born out of love or even lust, but out of Ada's deep necessity for her piano, the only way she can audibly express herself. Ada could have said no, but Baines is fully aware that playing the piano is the most important thing to her. He preys upon this need.

After a while, Baines decides that these interactions are turning him "wretched" and Ada into a "whore" (essentially, he is slut-shaming the woman he coerced into engaging in sexual relations with him). Ada later realizes she cares about Baines and misses him watching her play the piano. She returns to his home and makes love to Baines. By the end of the film, Ada starts a new life with Baines and her daughter Flora elsewhere in New Zealand. Ada and Baines are obviously in love at this point and their later relations are consensual, but does that make their earlier interactions any less manipulative or emblematic of rape?

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Scene Analysis: 'El Topo' (1970)



Two of the defining features of Alejandro Jodorowsky’s El Topo (1970) are its graphic, often shocking imagery and wacky characters, encapsulated by this screenshot. In the film’s opening scene, an entire town has been slaughtered – blood fills the desert ground in puddles, human bodies are strewn everywhere, and animal corpses lay twisted and disemboweled. The perpetrators of this horrific act are a group of bizarre, hedonistic men led by an overweight Colonel.

In this particular scene, about fifteen minutes into the film, these men harass and torture a group of four monks. One of the men lets out a disturbing hyena-like laugh. Another man rips a page out of the Bible, wiping his face with it and then crumpling it up and tossing it behind him. The four men play a record on a gramophone they retrieved, walking slowly and menacingly towards the monks, who are at this point tied up. The men use their swords to sever the ties binding the monks. 

The monks are visibly frightened as the men take off their hats, bow, and point their guns. Medium shots and wide shots are used to show the variety of characters and their body language towards one another. The monks are then forced to dance with the men. An establishing shot is used to showcase the setting of the settlement’s mission. The men further ridicule the monks – one man embraces the monk; another kisses a monk on the hand; another sensually bites the monk’s chin and nose; finally, one man gazes longingly at the monk’s lips and kisses him on the mouth.

A monk is stripped down, shown nude from behind. A blanket or some article of clothing is wrapped around his waist; he is draped in a throw, giving him the appearance of the Virgin Mary. One of the antagonizing men cuts his finger, wiping the blood across the monk’s lips to make them appear more feminine. In the final segment of this scene, the now-naked monks are thrown over the shoulders of the men and then spanked with paddles, leaving their bare butts bloody.

This entire scene, particularly the desecration of the image of the Virgin Mary, is a testament to the men’s hedonism as they engage in sacrilegious acts and debauchery. It slightly reminds me of Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange (1971). This act of disrespect for the monks most likely reflects a disregard for the Christianity that was thrust upon Latin America during its colonization. While I personally identify as an atheist, this scene did make me feel uncomfortable as did many of the other incredibly graphic, violent scenes in El Topo.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Comparing the Dystopias of Seconds and Children of Men


Much like in literature, dystopia has long been a theme in film. Writers and directors often use dystopian themes as social commentary, emphasizing a future or reality that is fearsome and undesirable. John Frankenheimer’s Seconds (1966) is a sci-fi thriller with elements of neo-noir and a social commentary that leans towards dystopian themes. In the 21st century, dystopian films have become increasingly more common, reflecting political unrest, environmental concerns, poverty and so on. Alfonso Cuarón, a pioneer of New Mexican Cinema, explored dystopian themes in his 2006 English-language film Children of Men, much more outwardly than Frankenheimer did with Seconds.

While Seconds is more concerned with the self in relation to the rest of society, Children of Men depicts an entire world collapsing. Frankenheimer’s protagonist, Arthur Hamilton (John Rudolph), is unsatisfied with his tepid and tedious daily life. Seconds focuses on the convolution of American ideals, a society that has become monotonous and ridden with gluttony thanks to commercialization.  On the contrary, Cuarón’s protagonist, Theo Faron (Clive Owen), is more disgruntled with society and the world around him. In the year 2027, humans have struggled with infertility for two decades, throwing society into chaos. He must guide a young West African refugee named Kee to safety – she is the first woman to be pregnant since infertility struck. Children of Men mirrors the growing concerns of humanity in the years since Seconds was released exactly forty years prior – immigration and oppression. While the cause of mass infertility is never fully explained, it is reasonable to assume this biological catastrophe is the result of widespread environmental or health problems.

One of the clearest differences between the dystopian themes of Seconds and Children of Men is the element of hope. This can best be explored through the closing scenes of each film. In Seconds, Arthur/Tony attempts to get a second chance at being “reborn” with the Company, but he realizes much too late that he is being wheeled off to his death – to become one of the cadavers that the Company uses to stage deaths. This embodies the despair and hopelessness that is woven throughout much of Seconds. Cuarón opts for a far more hopeful approach. Instead of the ominous Company, Theo is in search of the Human Project, a scientific research group working in the Azores to cure infertility. The group is almost fabled. In the final scene, Theo and Kee escape for the Azores via boat. Theo, who had been shot beforehand, dies, but Kee and her baby son Dylan are an embodiment of hope in the same way that the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ were in Christianity.