the thread in which i pimp my column

[godthedog 0]

concerning quentin tarantino and charlie kaufman, two indie favorites of the board and poster boys of screenwriting cleverness. i try to argue why a movie's being clever isn't as important as its being genuine, and i say some not-nice things about 'kill bill'.

 

it's also very long and academic-sounding, with sentences like, "This gives the stylish breaks the opportunity to mean something and to say something about what it means to create and write; if Charlie Kaufman is earnest in letting us in to the conflict of Kaufman the character (not Kaufman the screenwriter of the film), his pain of being stuck and his joy of finding the right ending can really resonate, and the cleverness becomes a tool used in aid of making the film more resonant and meaningful." so, read it and feel smarter.

 

and feel free to argue with me. it's too often that a person sees a clever stylish device in a movie, and thinks that the effect on him came just from that stylish device, when there's a lot more to it than that. any nimrod can put subtitles in different colors or write himself into his own screenplay; i argue that their effectiveness comes not from the devices themselves, but how they are used. and i argue it in 2,200 words with lots of examples and such.

 

feedback, discussion, and complaints are welcome.

[ArkhamGlobe 0]

SPOILERS! (I'm too lazy to use spoiler tags in this long a text)

 

 

I got a bit carried away writing this and it ended up a bit (to say the least) longwinded.

 

First things first, good article. I disagree with you on some points, mainly regarding the need for emotional investment (where mine differs radically from yours). Besides which, discussion is fun so let's get to it.

First of all I should point out that I have not seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (as it hasn't opened in Sweden yet), thusly I am obviously not qualified to discuss it. I am also too lazy to rewatch Kill Bill vol. 1 so I'm doing this off the top of my head.

Regarding the use of style in Kill Bill: this may just be me, but it's the stylistic devices in Kill Bill which draws me into the film, albeit, perhaps, on a more intellectual than emotional level. I observe with growing interest the way Tarantino crossbreeds different genres. O-Ren Ishii's flashback hits me on both an intellectual and emotional level, the shots when O-Ren's mother is killed in particular. When the sword shoots through the bed and blood starts running down the blade, alternating with the shots of O-Ren's eye beginning to fill with tears,

the scene is both incredibly beautiful as well as sad. The basic emotions communicated through the scene are simple enough: fear and sorrow. These are emphasized by Tarantino stretching the duration of the sequence, putting me the specatator in O-Ren's place. This, coupled with the use of music gives the sequence in particular, and the scene in general, an almost epic feel, coinsiding with the almost ritualistic depiction and treatment of genre rules and conventions in the film. Of course, Tarantino's decision to have the word "whimper" appear from O-Ren's mouth in written form could easily argued to be there simply to get a cheap laugh. The point is valid, though I believe that it is overtly simple, because it does carry on the emotional themes of the sequence, and it emphasizes the danger that O-Ren is in. Does it work? That can be argued and probably to a large degree depends on the spectator him-/herself. But does this have any meaning beyond itself? That is arguable. One might ask if Tarantino is laying the genre framework bare before us in order to make some point regarding how these operate, like Jean-Luc Godard often did during the early 1960's? Personally, I don't think so, as Tarantino merely places the convention in a somewhat new garb and lets it play (he does, however, screw around with the conventions more in Vol. 2). The Sergio Leone reference is an effective

(and, in my opinion, also very affective) device, and it makes the scene very memorable. However, does the reference have any meaning beyond itself? It does provide to a framework to use to read the film (the different genres at play throughout the film, how they interrelate and so forth...), but this requires the spectator to be able to spot the reference and to have seen the films referenced. On the other hand, a reference like the one to Shogun Assassin in Vol. 2 does however have more apparent direct meanings beyond itself. It achieves the same

things as the Leone reference in that it namechecks a key influence and helps provide a framework in which to read the film. It also, however, comments on the characters and the action that is about to transpire. The central father-son relationship of Shogun Assassin is mirrored in the relationship between Beatrix and her daughter and it also pretty much lets us know what's in store for Beatrix and her daughter after Bill has been killed.

Does this make the viewer care, however? I can only answer for myself personally, and I do care throughout the film, but I do so more because I am interested to see where Tarantino is going with his analysis (if one wishes to call it that). Do I care about O-Ren Ishii? I do so momentarily in the first part of the flashback scene, however, beyond that, not so much. I do however find her interesting because her character can provide an interesting framework to read the film from (her chinese-japanese-american heritage vs the films genrecrossbreeding and the practice of a filmmaker "borrowing" the filmmaking styles of other cultures for his own ends). But no, I do not particularly care what happens to her. But do I have to? For me, the answer would be no.

Now it's time for me to explain my position. I need no characters to care about to be drawn into a film, pure stylistic devices can be (though they certainly aren't always) enough, as I believe that films centered on analyzing style and genre can most certainly have something meaningful to say. I'll use Godard as an example. When he, like in, for instance, A Woman is a Woman, shoots dance numbers with purposeful amateurism, removes the music from the musical numbers and instead uses it to underline the speech in the dialogue scenes, he isn't merely playing with the genre for his own amusement it also lays bare the genre conventions before us, hopefully teaching us something about the way we see traditionally view not only the genre itself, but cinema in general. He calls attention to the vehicle to awaken a critical awareness in the spectator, to paraphrase Brecht. One could argue that Tarantino attempts something similiar in Kill Bill. After lulling the audience into a false sense of security by examining but still adhering to genre conventions, when he finally breaks with it (for instance in the scene where Beatrix finds out that she's pregnant) this (hypothetically) jolts the spectator out from the illusion. This also has another effect, detatchment or distancation (whichever you prefer). I would argue that this is in many ways a necessary, and very valueable, device when used well. Personally though, I don't think Tarantino tries to achieve a distancation effect in the way Godard or Brecht would. Rather, I think it's more to both make a joke as well as to play with the genres, but the effect is still achieved, I feel, and I don't think it is to be disregarded. This is where my argument falters a bit, as I really need to rewatch Vol. 2 to be able to elaborate further. Despite how much I love O-Ren's flashback and the Battle(s) at the House of Blue Leaves for various reasons, these scenes towards the end of Kill Bill vol. 2 are the scenes that interest me the most, because of the way it side-steps genre convention to make us reflect on them. I am not the least bit disappointed when Bill and Beatrix finally fight because it adds another level to the film. Bill and Beatrix's actions are decided by the genre space they are occupying. Genre has thusly assumed the place of fate, continueing the ritualistic treatment of genre throughout the film. And that captures my interest even more.

[godthedog 0]

wow, in-depth feedback. huzzah.

 

First of all I should point out that I have not seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (as it hasn't opened in Sweden yet), thusly I am obviously not qualified to discuss it. I am also too lazy to rewatch Kill Bill vol. 1 so I'm doing this off the top of my head.

i feel horrible for already giving away the best part of it to you.

 

O-Ren Ishii's flashback hits me on both an intellectual and emotional level, the shots when O-Ren's mother is killed in particular. When the sword shoots through the bed and blood starts running down the blade, alternating with the shots of O-Ren's eye beginning to fill with tears,

the scene is both incredibly beautiful as well as sad.

i got severe distanciation from this scene. the way he chose to show this scene, with the blood dripping down the sword through the bed, seems to me like tarantino had just thought of a really cool way to accent the scene. it's one of those douglas sirk moments that's so over-the-top i can't recognize its referent anymore and have no way to emotionally place myself in the scene.

 

if i remember correctly, o'ren's eye filling with tears is shown in EXTREME close-up (like, you can't see anything but the eye). generally more close-ups mean more identification with a character because you can read more into their face, but from this close, you can't really see her face; with that, you miss all the extra cues that make an audience member sad from watching someone cry on screen (like what they're doing with their mouth, their body language, their face getting red, etc). it feels like an oblique eisenstein kind of thing, that's there mostly for a physical jolt.

The basic emotions communicated through the scene are simple enough: fear and sorrow. These are emphasized by Tarantino stretching the duration of the sequence, putting me the specatator in O-Ren's place. This, coupled with the use of music gives the sequence in particular, and the scene in general, an almost epic feel, coinsiding with the almost ritualistic depiction and treatment of genre rules and conventions in the film.

i get a ton of cues putting me firmly outside of o-ren's place: i find the music very intrusive, the very liberal use of blood that screams to me not to take it seriously, the fact that it's animated when i've been watching real people up to this point, and the genre rules being followed. now...if it had been a pretty straight-up story to this point, the flashback might have very successfully put me in o-ren's position. but the way the film had been coded up to that point (the klingon quote, the spectacle of a house fight with vivica a. fox), i was encouraged to continue reading the film by its genre rules & its style instead of its characters.

Of course, Tarantino's decision to have the word "whimper" appear from O-Ren's mouth in written form could easily argued to be there simply to get a cheap laugh. The point is valid, though I believe that it is overtly simple, because it does carry on the emotional themes of the sequence, and it emphasizes the danger that O-Ren is in.

i'm obviously in the "cheap laugh" camp for that one, but i can see where you're coming from. it certainly doesn't let you forget o-ren's position, but i think it does undercut it.

Does it work? That can be argued and probably to a large degree depends on the spectator him-/herself. But does this have any meaning beyond itself? That is arguable. One might ask if Tarantino is laying the genre framework bare before us in order to make some point regarding how these operate, like Jean-Luc Godard often did during the early 1960's? Personally, I don't think so, as Tarantino merely places the convention in a somewhat new garb and lets it play (he does, however, screw around with the conventions more in Vol. 2). The Sergio Leone reference is an effective

(and, in my opinion, also very affective) device, and it makes the scene very memorable. However, does the reference have any meaning beyond itself? It does provide to a framework to use to read the film (the different genres at play throughout the film, how they interrelate and so forth...), but this requires the spectator to be able to spot the reference and to have seen the films referenced.

i have no problem with a spectator having to spot the references, i just wish there was more to do with them than just figure out the different genres at play & how they interrelate. the explanation stops there, and i think it should be doing something else for the film if the interplay is there.

On the other hand, a reference like the one to Shogun Assassin in Vol. 2 does however have more apparent direct meanings beyond itself. It achieves the same

things as the Leone reference in that it namechecks a key influence and helps provide a framework in which to read the film. It also, however, comments on the characters and the action that is about to transpire. The central father-son relationship of Shogun Assassin is mirrored in the relationship between Beatrix and her daughter and it also pretty much lets us know what's in store for Beatrix and her daughter after Bill has been killed.

i'm not familiar with 'shogun assassin', so i had no idea this was going on. but yeah, that does strengthen the film.

Does this make the viewer care, however? I can only answer for myself personally, and I do care throughout the film, but I do so more because I am interested to see where Tarantino is going with his analysis (if one wishes to call it that).

i recently saw the bergman movie 'through a glass darkly', and when this one character found out his daughter would inevitably relapse into schizophrenia, he admitted being very intrigued by the possibility and wanting to study closely his daughter slowly losing her mind. this seems to me analogous to the kind of interest that you're talking about, and i don't consider it to really be *caring*. i have a hard time caring about something as an object of study.

Do I care about O-Ren Ishii? I do so momentarily in the first part of the flashback scene, however, beyond that, not so much. I do however find her interesting because her character can provide an interesting framework to read the film from (her chinese-japanese-american heritage vs the films genrecrossbreeding and the practice of a filmmaker "borrowing" the filmmaking styles of other cultures for his own ends). But no, I do not particularly care what happens to her. But do I have to? For me, the answer would be no.

don't have to, no. but i think that movies have the capacity to convey something more, which i find more fulfilling. i think john stuart mill was right in asserting that pushpin was NOT as good as poetry, and the inner workings of watching 'kill bill' are closer to pushpin than poetry. tarantino has every right to MAKE a 3 1/2 game of pushpin, and there's nothing wrong with it, but i think movies can serve better purposes.

 

Now it's time for me to explain my position. I need no characters to care about to be drawn into a film, pure stylistic devices can be (though they certainly aren't always) enough, as I believe that films centered on analyzing style and genre can most certainly have something meaningful to say. I'll use Godard as an example. When he, like in, for instance, A Woman is a Woman, shoots dance numbers with purposeful amateurism, removes the music from the musical numbers and instead uses it to underline the speech in the dialogue scenes, he isn't merely playing with the genre for his own amusement it also lays bare the genre conventions before us, hopefully teaching us something about the way we see traditionally view not only the genre itself, but cinema in general. He calls attention to the vehicle to awaken a critical awareness in the spectator, to paraphrase Brecht. One could argue that Tarantino attempts something similiar in Kill Bill. After lulling the audience into a false sense of security by examining but still adhering to genre conventions, when he finally breaks with it (for instance in the scene where Beatrix finds out that she's pregnant) this (hypothetically) jolts the spectator out from the illusion.  This also has another effect, detatchment or distancation (whichever you prefer). I would argue that this is in many ways a necessary, and very valueable, device when used well. Personally though, I don't think Tarantino tries to achieve a distancation effect in the way Godard or Brecht would. Rather, I think it's more to both make a joke as well as to play with the genres, but the effect is still achieved, I feel, and I don't think it is to be disregarded.

are you talking about distanciation just in the scene when she's lost her baby, or the effect of the movie as a whole? that scene was the only time i really found myself caring in vol. 1, and the jolt that came from that moment was from the fact that i found myself caring.

 

i haven't seen 'a woman is a woman' in years & barely remember anything about it, but i think in films like 'breathless' & 'alphaville' he IS saying something through the genre-bending that he does. i guess you could possibly argue that for 'kill bill', but i have no idea what that argument would be like because i have no idea what tarantino might have been trying to say.

 

the detachment thing that brecht & godard do is a strange little animal, but i think the reason it works because they tend to use it meaningfully, and do it to say something about the world outside that realm of pure dramatics or pure genre. tarantino's interest seems to be to play with the genres for their own sake. the effect IS achieved, but i don't think it deserves to get creamed over in the way certain critics have done, because a) godard did it better anyway, and b) godard got that "playful with genres" effect while putting something deeper in his films all the while. again, tarantino is playing pushpin, godard is making poetry.

This is where my argument falters a bit, as I really need to rewatch Vol. 2 to be able to elaborate further. Despite how much I love O-Ren's flashback and the Battle(s) at the House of Blue Leaves for various reasons, these scenes towards the end of Kill Bill vol. 2 are the scenes that interest me the most, because of the way it side-steps genre convention to make us reflect on them. I am not the least bit disappointed when Bill and Beatrix finally fight because it adds another level to the film. Bill and Beatrix's actions are decided by the genre space they are occupying. Genre has thusly assumed the place of fate, continueing the ritualistic treatment of genre throughout the film. And that captures my interest even more.

that last italicized bit got me thinking about 'unforgiven', where eastwood spends the whole movie questioning the merits of the badass character of his past, only to turn right back into that same badass character by the end. i was trying to think of a way to talk about what 'unforgiven' did to make that meaningful as opposed to vol. 2, but i realized that there wasn't anything it did that vol. 2 didn't. as in 'unforgiven', the characters are who they are, and that's the point, and that's why beatrix didn't stop to think about what might come of killing the father of her child. that was just something i missed completely when i saw the movie, and you did convince me to take a look at that ending again with a different frame of mind.

[ArkhamGlobe 0]

Bringing this back from second page purgatory as I've been off the computer for a few days and haven't had a chance to respond...

 

i got severe distanciation from this scene.  the way he chose to show this scene, with the blood dripping down the sword through the bed, seems to me like tarantino had just thought of a really cool way to accent the scene.  it's one of those douglas sirk moments that's so over-the-top i can't recognize its referent anymore and have no way to emotionally place myself in the scene.

 

if i remember correctly, o'ren's eye filling with tears is shown in EXTREME close-up (like, you can't see anything but the eye).  generally more close-ups mean more identification with a character because you can read more into their face, but from this close, you can't really see her face; with that, you miss all the extra cues that make an audience member sad from watching someone cry on screen (like what they're doing with their mouth, their body language, their face getting red, etc).  it feels like an oblique eisenstein kind of thing, that's there mostly for a physical jolt.

 

I understand your position though I'm obviously more accepting of over the top stylization. Basically what sweeps me along within the scene is a sense of stylistic fluidity, meaning that I connect with the scene more on an aesthetic than emotional level (though, as previously stated, I also connect on an emotional level). The Eisenstein parallel is interesting, and probably kind of accurate in a way. It's meant to hit on a more visceral level and, hopefully, get the spectator hooked in the moment.

 

i get a ton of cues putting me firmly outside of o-ren's place: i find the music very intrusive, the very liberal use of blood that screams to me not to take it seriously, the fact that it's animated when i've been watching real people up to this point, and the genre rules being followed.  now...if it had been a pretty straight-up story to this point, the flashback might have very successfully put me in o-ren's position.  but the way the film had been coded up to that point (the klingon quote, the spectacle of a house fight with vivica a. fox), i was encouraged to continue reading the film by its genre rules & its style instead of its characters.

 

I agree to a point here, but I also think that the depiction of O-Ren the character kind of jars with the rest of the film, as O-Ren's character is fleshed out more than Vernita Green for example, and I feel Tarantino partly encourages the spectator to feel for O-Ren. As for switching to animated, that didn't bother me at all, since the film switches between different genres so frequently that I don't feel it jars with the rest of the film in that manner.

 

i'm obviously in the "cheap laugh" camp for that one, but i can see where you're coming from.  it certainly doesn't let you forget o-ren's position, but i think it does undercut it.

 

I pretty much agree here.

 

i have no problem with a spectator having to spot the references, i just wish there was more to do with them than just figure out the different genres at play & how they interrelate.  the explanation stops there, and i think it should be doing something else for the film if the interplay is there.

 

I personally feel that there's more to the genre hijinks though I haven't attempted an in-depth reading of the film(s) yet (I'm waiting for Vol. 2 to be released on DVD). I did however read a pretty interesting article about Vol. 2 in Sight and Sound a few months back that took a more in-depth look at the genre-play in the film. Too bad I don't have it handy .

 

i recently saw the bergman movie 'through a glass darkly', and when this one character found out his daughter would inevitably relapse into schizophrenia, he admitted being very intrigued by the possibility and wanting to study closely his daughter slowly losing her mind.  this seems to me analogous to the kind of interest that you're talking about, and i don't consider it to really be *caring*.  i have a hard time caring about something as an object of study.

 

You're comparing me to one of Bergman's vampires? Damn.

 

Anyway, I understand your point completely, and you're probably kind of right in this regard.

 

don't have to, no.  but i think that movies have the capacity to convey something more, which i find more fulfilling.  i think john stuart mill was right in asserting that pushpin was NOT as good as poetry, and the inner workings of watching 'kill bill' are closer to pushpin than poetry.  tarantino has every right to MAKE a 3 1/2 game of pushpin, and there's nothing wrong with it, but i think movies can serve better purposes.

 

Obviously poetry is superior to pushpin (I think the best films, and indeed the best artworks in general, hit on both a visceral, emotional and intellectual level), though I again obviously feel that there's more to Kill Bill than you do.

 

are you talking about distanciation just in the scene when she's lost her baby, or the effect of the movie as a whole?  that scene was the only time i really found myself caring in vol. 1, and the jolt that came from that moment was from the fact that i found myself caring.

 

I was bit unclear in my wording, I meant the scene in Vol. 2 with the pregnancy test and the retreating hitwoman.

 

i haven't seen 'a woman is a woman' in years & barely remember anything about it, but i think in films like 'breathless' & 'alphaville' he IS saying something through the genre-bending that he does.  i guess you could possibly argue that for 'kill bill', but i have no idea what that argument would be like because i have no idea what tarantino might have been trying to say.

 

the detachment thing that brecht & godard do is a strange little animal, but i think the reason it works because they tend to use it meaningfully, and do it to say something about the world outside that realm of pure dramatics or pure genre.  tarantino's interest seems to be to play with the genres for their own sake.  the effect IS achieved, but i don't think it deserves to get creamed over in the way certain critics have done, because a) godard did it better anyway, and b) godard got that "playful with genres" effect while putting something deeper in his films all the while.  again, tarantino is playing pushpin, godard is making poetry.

 

I was less arguing about Kill Bill here and more about the use of distancation effects in general, but I'd like to clarify that I don't think Tarantino's use of distancation effect is anywhere near the level of Brecht's or Godard's (atleast not in Kill Bill). In fact, I'm not even sure if Tarantino is attempting the effect consciously or not or if he's just using it for a cheap joke, though I feel his use of it can be read both ways.

 

As for constructive ways of reading the genrebending in Kill Bill Vols. 1 & 2, I would off the top of my head suggest the following: Tarantino is using the aesthetics of the action genre(s) to portray the workings of a divorce between Bill and Beatrix, which comes to a head when Bill uses their daughter as a tactical device in the battle. Thusly the final confrontation more or less turns into a custody settlement. One should probably put a bit more thought into the reading, but I feel it could be an interesting framework in which to read the film.

 

that last italicized bit got me thinking about 'unforgiven', where eastwood spends the whole movie questioning the merits of the badass character of his past, only to turn right back into that same badass character by the end.  i was trying to think of a way to talk about what 'unforgiven' did to make that meaningful as opposed to vol. 2, but i realized that there wasn't anything it did that vol. 2 didn't.  as in 'unforgiven', the characters are who they are, and that's the point, and that's why beatrix didn't stop to think about what might come of killing the father of her child.  that was just something i missed completely when i saw the movie, and you did convince me to take a look at that ending again with a different frame of mind.

 

Glad to have been of help . The parallel you draw towards Unforgiven is very interesting and would be interesting to study further.

 

Thanks for the discussion, this is fun.