"I Love the Smell of Napalm in the Morning"

One of the greatest element’s of Apocalypse Now is how the cinematography and the characters complement each other. The best example of this can be seen in Col. Kilgore’s famous “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” speech. Prior to this scene, Kilgore is around a bonfire with his soldiers drinking beer. Willard introduces the viewer to Kilgore with his very perceptive description of Kilgore’s personality:

“Well, he wasn't a bad officer, I guess. He loved his boys and you felt safe with him. He was one of those guys that had that weird light around him. You just knew he wasn't gonna get so much as a scratch here.”

Willard’s description proves true during this scene, but even more so in the scene where Kilgore has taken the city and is preparing to go out and surf. The way in which the camera captures Kilgore conveys that he is great and powerful. He is captured in a low angle shot in which he stands and his “boys” surround him. Often in films shots like this suggest that the character is intimidating or looming over everyone else. While these characteristics are true of Kilgore’s character, the way his boys look up at him and the way he couches down to their level prove Willard’s point that, “he loved his boys and you felt safe with him.”

One could argue that the yellow smoke around him represents the “weird light” Willard describes. The yellow smoke also remind the viewer of the battle that has just taken place. It also coincides beautifully with Kilgore’s explanation that the smell of napalm is synonymous with the smell of victory. The long shot captures Kilgore as he crouches there. He is surrounded by the yellow cloud and the view of the city he has just taken. He is essentially sitting in the middle of victory.

Finally, the scene ends with Kilgore noting that, “someday this war will be over.” The most profound aspect of this line is how Kilgore gets choked up immediately after delivering it. Not because he’s seen a great deal of pain but because he is a warlord; he lives and breathes war. While all the other characters are completely destroyed by war, Kilgore is torn up by the thought of it ending. After this, he stands to his feet and walks off camera. The viewer is left with another excellent contrast between Kilgore and Willard as Willard sits up and watches him leave. The astonished look on Willard’s face is classic.

In regards to film analysis, Col. Kilgore’s napalm speech is one of the best scenes in the film because it demonstrates how cinematography can be used to capture the essence of a character. In the previous scene, Willard provides an excellent description of Col. Kilgore. This description is fantastically emphasized in the napalm scene by the cinematography which seems to, point by point, prove Willard’s assessment.

What does one say about a film that makes napalm and purple haze look beautiful and yet still takes a critical view of war? How does one unpack a story with so much detail? I’m not exactly sure but I’ll try…

Last night was not my first experience with Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now but it was the first time I’ve watched it from beginning to end. My immediate reaction was that I was overwhelmed at how masterfully this story was told. I was impressed that a film could contain so much detail in regards to cinematography, lighting, characters, style, scenery, etc. and yet it all comes together in a great, cohesive narrative. What’s more, all these elements combined create a mood that I’ve never experienced in any other “war movie.” For now, however, I’d just like to focus on a few of these elements.

For one thing, I loved the way Coppola used background noise to create mood. Whether it was the sound helicopters, gunfire, or voices of people yelling and crying, the incessant background noise created a tension about the film. It was not till about halfway through that I realized that this was what made me recognize that tension. Another element of the film that greatly impressed me was how much depth of personality was conveyed through the characters. As a result, they were not just some group of soldiers they can be lumped together. They were not five of the same guys fighting the same war during which time four of them would receive “Dear John” letters and the fifth one would die in some epically emotional scene because, well, his girlfriend was actually waiting for him to come home. On the contrary, the fact that these men were fighting together did not immediately unite them. Nor did they discard the person they were before the war. The first scene on the boat is a great example of this: there’s Tyrone “Mr. Clean” Miller, (Lawrence Fishburne) who pretty much just wants to be the seventeen year old boy he is. Then there is “Chef” (Fredrick Forrest) the terrified man who would probably rather be home cooking. And Lance Johnson, (Sam Bottoms) the famous surfer from Cali who still surfers, sunbathes, and abuses drugs while serving in the war. Clearly none of these men what to be soldiers; they are a stark contrast with Martin Sheen’s character Captain Willard who has committed himself to a potentially hopeless mission.

So many elements of Apocalypse Now create a unique mood, especially for a film of this genre. However, the use of background noise and the roles of the characters were what impressed me the most. The juxtaposition of the other soldiers with Captain Willard is brilliant. It is, at times, somewhat comical but overall it is very profound. Some scenes can be terrible while many others are amusing or even beautiful and yet one does not miss Coppola’s criticism of war.

Apocalypse Now Movie Photo [Captin Willard]. Digital image. Http://www.flickr.com. 6 Aug. 2006. Paramount Pictures. <http://www.flickr.com/photos/divxplanet/2739408457/>.

Presentation and Representation In The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

Narrowing down one scene of Julian Schnabel’s The Diving Bell and the Butterfly in order to examine the cinematography was not an easy process. The Film is, after all a cinematic masterpiece. Originally, I wanted to discuss my favorite part; the restaurant scene. However, after watching the film a second time I was struck by the unique style of the scene in which Jean-Do describes the power of imagination. In The Film Experience: An Introduction, Corrigan and White explain the two primary values of images. Firstly, images “present the world as a true record of events, people, and places.” Secondly, images “represent the world for us in a way that suggests specific meanings or interpretations of those events, people, and places" (Corrigan & White, 98). In The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Jean-Do’s description of imagination brings about a drastic switch from presentation to representation. As Corrigan and White point out, switching from presentation to representation often changes the way the audience views a film. With presentation they are caught up in the plot then, a representation occurs which causes them to realize they are watching a film. However, the genius of this scene is found in Schnabel’s use of stock footage and photographs to demonstrate how Jean-Do constructs his imaginary world yet; it still allows the audience to smoothly return to the actual events of Jean-Do’s life.

Up until this point in the film, the audience has been, almost exclusively, limited to Jean-Do’s point of view. We feel his sadness and frustration since we too are essentially trapped in his paralyzed body. All this changes, however, when Jean-Do begins to exercise his imagination. The audience is immediately thrust out of the reality of Jean-Do’s situation into the world he creates for himself. The first part of this switch opens with a sequence of stock footage starting with a butterfly emerging from its cocoon; a clear symbol of Jean-Do’s escape via imagination. The butterfly footage begins as an extreme close up shot only to burst into long shots of nature, Jean-Do as an amazing athlete, Jean-Do as a devilishly handsome man, and Jean-Do with beautiful women. The fact Schnabel that used stock footage is essential because it reminds the audience that these images are purely imaginational. These images are not even memories of Jean-Do’s actual experiences. Rather, the audience is to assume that he is constructing this world using bits and pieces of films and television programs. The Beach scene in particular shows Jean-Do placing himself into the famous kiss/beach scene from Fred Zinnemann’s From Here to Eternity.

The representational value of this scene becomes ever more apparent when the stock footage of various long shots taper off into documentary style, still shots of Jean-Do. This part is somewhat less representational than the stock footage due to the fact that the still shots depict actual moments of Jean-Do’s life. Nevertheless, photographs are still representations since they are highly selective glimpses of an individual’s life. In other words, photographs are generally limited to portions of our lives that we wish to record. Also, the photographs of Jean-Do are representations because they show the life that he no longer has since the cardiovascular accident. Towards the completions of this scene, the still shots begin to flash across the screen until all that the audience is left with is the jarring first glimpse of Jean-Do’s distorted face. The scene has now come full circle, returning to the presentational images of Jean-Do. While the beginning of this scene showcases the power of Jean-Do’s imagination, the end reminds the audience how devastatingly difficult it must be for him to be content with his imagination as the only means of mobility.

The success of the imagination scene and arguably, the entire film rests greatly on Schnabel’s ingenious use of cinematography. Switching between presentation to representation is an effective way to get the viewer to observe and analyze the narrative rather than just being absorbed in it. Yet, there seems to be a risk that the viewer will completely disconnect from the film. Schnabel, however, gets it right by using stock footage and photographs which are stylistically different from the presentational images. Thus, the audience grasps that these represent Jean-Do’s Imagination. He is also successful because he brings the audience back to reality with the close up shot of Jean-Do’s face, making this transition a fluid one.

Corrigan, Timothy, and Patricia White. Film Experience: An Introduction. Boston: Bedford/Saint Martin's, 2004

Le Scaphandre Et Le Papillon / The Diving Bell And The Butterfly. Digital image. Flickr.com. Pathé Renn Productions. <http://www.flickr.com/photos/latelierdejacques/2314560836/>.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: An Initial Reaction

Despite that The Diving Bell and the Butterfly was emotionally difficult to watch, I’m definitely glad I did. What impressed me most about this film was that Julian Schnabel seemingly let the story speak itself and used the cinematography to convey the emotion of the plot. Considering this is a true story, I glad that Schnabel recognized that the narrative did need emotional embellishment. I loved that Schnabel filmed the movie in such a way that the audience is forced to see the world from Jean Do’s obstructed point of view. As I result, I didn’t just feel sad for this man, I truly understood his frustration, pain, and dispair.

I was impressed that Schnabel not only achieved this through the extreme close up shots of Jean Do’s limited vision when communicating with others, but also the wide shots of the outdoors which, captured his inability move around on the beach, terrace, etc. If the cinematography was not enough to capture the Jean Do’s feelings, the illustration of the deep-sea diving suit was pretty ingenious.

However, my favorite aspect of the film was the flashbacks of Jean-Do’s life before the cardiovascular accident. I found the scene in the convertible and scene of Jean Do walking down the street at night particularly beautiful. The music that accompanied these scenes was always loud and fun and the scenes all have an exhilarating quality even when what was going on was fairly mundane. Obviously Jean Do’s life as editor of Elle magazine might not seem mundane to everyone. Yet, I felt the scenes were meant to demonstrate fun, happy moments (and even sad ones) in life that we don’t fully realize their significance until they are distant memories. The movement and life of his flashbacks when contrasted with the hospital scenes were very powerful.

Again, this movie was difficult to watch especially since I did not really know anything about the movie going into it other than the fact that it was a sad story. Admittedly I got choked up a few times and barely made it through the scene where his father calls on the phone. Nevertheless, it was worth the watch.

You're So (Not) Money Baby

(image from: www.cinemastrikesback.com/.../psycho19984.jpg)

After watching Gus Van Sant's 1998 version of Psycho I have to say I feel ambivalent. Going into the experience I had already made up my mind that I was going to hate the remake but it actually didn’t turn out as bad I as expected which really annoyed me because I’m super stubborn so I wanted to hate it. Midway through, however, I found myself able to appreciate certain aspects of the film and the different ways that Van Sant interpreted scenes or details as well as the ways that the actors interpreted their roles. The “shower scene” in particular was a positive. Still, in the end I have to go with my old friend, Alfred Hitchcock.

I definitely have a love/hate relationship with the casting of the film and by that I mean I hated the casting of Viggo Mortensen as Sam (sorry Gracie). The original Sam (John Gavin) had that suave, sexy, and somewhat of a dog persona that fit the role perfectly. It seems like a role for Matthew McConaughey not Viggo Mortensen. I thought Anne Hache was a clever choice for a modernized Marion Crane. Her hairstyle and wardrobe captured Marion’s dual personality. Then we have Vince Vaughn as Norman Bates, a strange choice for the role. It almost seems like they intentionally chose someone completely different from Anthony Perkins in order to discourage comparisons. Or perhaps Van Sant thought modern audiences would expect the villain to be more overtly threatening or creepy. At times the clash between Vaughn's manly appearance and boyish behavior worked well. Overall however, his lack of subtlety gives him away prematurely. He pulled off the role but doesn’t have look to master it. I half expected him to tell Marion that she’s “so money baby” (Swingers, 1996).


While I feel slightly disloyal to Hitchcock, I liked the remake version of the "shower scene" better than the original. Although I will qualify that by saying that had I been alive to see Psycho in 1960, I’m sure my response would be very different. The original is masterfully done but by the time I was old enough to see Psycho, I had seen it parodied so often that it unfortunately couldn’t have as profound an effect. What I liked about the 1998 shower scene is that Van Sant didn’t throw the baby out with the bath water (no pun intended). That is, he kept the details that make the shower scene so iconic while toning down the parts that have been tainted by years of parody. I was also impressed that Van Sant didn’t go over the top with the blood and gore even though he could have.

With the exception of the "shower scene," my overall reaction to Psycho (1998) couldn’t go beyong appreciation for the aspects of the film that Van Sant got right. Even though he kept the original screenplay and style of the film the two still feel completely different. Part of me wants to say hands down that I love the 1960 version over the remake and I do. But then again it’s like comparing apples and oranges. I guess if I had to compare the two the best way to explain it is that I love Hitchcock’s Psycho and I find Van Sant’s, tolerable. One thing is clear; Hitchcock’s Psycho is a work of art that can be appreciated by connoisseurs and novices alike. I don’t believe that the same could not be said of the remake. Also, a huge part of the reason I’m so impressed by the original is due to Anthony Perkin’s performance. It’s one of the best performances I’ve seen period. Norman Bates just isn’t Norman Bates without Perkins and Psycho isn’t Psycho without Norman Bates.

Psycho (1960) : Standing the Test of Time

When analyzing Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho, it is necessary to examine what made it such a box office success in its day as well as whether the film makes just as powerful impression on today’s audiences. If, like me, you answer yes to the latter, then perhaps you will also agree that the answers to both these questions can be traced to four key elements. That is, what truly makes Psycho one for the books can be traced to the film's solid plot, cinematic style, superb acting, and, the subtle use of horror.

Under different circumstances, Psycho could very well have become a victim of Joel Hodgson’s Mystery Science Theater 3000 [1]or just some B-movie we rent for a laugh. Instead, Psycho is recognized as a significant work in the history of American film. Psycho is, after all, on the American Film Institute’s (AFI) 100 Year...100 Movies list[2]. Clearly, Psycho’s strong, captivating plot and stunning cinematography played a critical role in it making the list.

For me, however, Hitchcock’s greatest achievement in Psycho is the acting. Anthony Perkins’s (Norman Bates) performance in particular is sheer genius. Till the very end Perkins instills fear and suspicion in the audience yet, he never gives himself away. In fact, I would go as far as to say that even if the plot and technique were not as strong as they are, Perkins’s performance would still carry the Film.

Finally, it seems safe to say that most individuals who have seen their share of horror/thrillers will agree: many horror films, especially more contemporary ones, rely too heavily on violent and graphic images rather than allowing the viewer’s imagination contribute to the intended impact of a particularly chilling scene or the film as a whole. In other words, subtly is that fine line between mere shock value and a truly frightening scene. Apparently our friend Alfred Hitchcock knew this as well, which is why Psycho, even with its 1960s special effects, surpasses many of today’s popular horror/thrillers.



[1] Mystery Science Theater 3000 (MST3K): Joel Hodgson’s 1988 comedy television series which was “always about one thing: making fun of bad movies” Cornell, Chris & Henry, Brian. "Mystery Science Theater 3000 FAQ." www.mst3kinfo.com. 1992. Best Brains Inc. .

[2] "AFI'S 100 Years...100 Movies." www.afi.com. 2008. American Film Institute. .