26 May 2011

#55 of 2011: O Brother, Where Art Thou?

as i become familiar with the work of the Coen Bros, they remind me more of Woody Allen in this way: i see what's going on in terms of style, and it is interesting (even astounding at particular moments), though as a whole, the thing doesn't shake me much. that said, it has to be acknowledged that with the Coens, specific triumphs (in narrative or character development or imagery) are often redemptive of the entire undertaking.

but first: a significant drawback. George Clooney's performance was possibly the most under-realized aspect of this movie, with the most obvious shortcoming being his line delivery- both his timing and his accent. i understand that his character is supposed to be a fast/sharp/smooth talker, so it makes sense for the audience to note a distinction between his speech and the drawls of his companions. but it becomes too obvious that he's half-assing when even John Goodman's minor character (also a salesman, and apparently a better one) sounds more authentic. and next to the measured and involved facial expressions and diction of Turturro and Nelson, Clooney simply comes off as unimpressive (instead of "faux impressive", as the writing seems to demand). Turturro and Nelson pull off the stylized melodrama with their typical comedic flair, especially when it's a tad corny. if Clooney weren't capable of doing the same, i might not feel so slighted. but that's what i get for watching "O Brother" after seeing "Burn After Reading". maybe he just needed time to learn.

now for the redemption: 1:09:03-1:09:21. i'm not sure if Roger Deakins or the Bros deserve the greater portion of credit for this, but it's a striking use of three things as simple as darkness, flashes of colored light, and camera movement (RESOURCEFUL EFFECTS. YES.).






what makes this different from other "camera descends into the narrative" scenes is its expertly nuanced balance between expressionism (dream sequence) and naturalism (scenery description). the camera pans down slowly while artificial blue flashes illuminate a branch so that it resembles the represented source of light. but the contrast is absolute between the black and the branch, and the flashes are short-lived and sparse, so that when a noose moves through the frame, it is logical to assume that what is being shown is simply a tree that has been prepared for a hanging. . . except that the darkness that follows the noose's appearance is invaded by an interior scene, with the camera continuing it's journey until it lands on a terrified John Turturro. it wouldn't make sense for a noose to be hanging above this building, and (because the panning had til now made sense) this is a bit jarring for the duration of the time it takes the camera to scan the room, from its rafters down to the bunks of sleeping men. by the moment movement ceases, by the time Turturro- awake amongst sleepers- fills the frame, the previous two images register not only as a combination that actually exists within the world of the story, but also as stark and terrifying fragments of a dream that has shaken this man awake. the camera's continued motion stitches everything together, paces the experience of the viewer in such a way that s/he and the character simultaneously "wake up". and it is good enough to recommend.