Responses to "Der Sichtbare Mensch" (by Natalie Walker)

 I

Bela Belazs saw in film the restoration of expressive movement, the language of gesture we lost to words. When I read the excerpt from Der Sichtbare Mensch, I was reminded of something Annie Dillard wrote and flipped through all of Pilgrim at Tinker Creek to find it:

A teen-aged boy, king of the world, will spend weeks in front of a mirror perfecting some difficult trick with a lighter, a muscle, a tennis ball, a coin. Why do we lose interest in physical mastery? ... We can't even sit straight or support our weary heads.

Of the movies we've watched together, Yajimbo most persuades me of Belazs' hope. Yajimbo, like the best samurai or cowboy, appeals to the king of the world in any of us. He has style. He has sprezzatura. He has an absolute commitment to physical mastery. Yajimbo is the kind of figure we are compelled to imitate gesturally.

I keep thinking of the scene where he sits all day in the small temple throwing his knife at leaves trapped inside and blowing in the wind. Why do we lose interest in physical mastery? Probably because it, like inhabiting any medium, requires discipline and/or obsession.

II

I question Belazs' thesis, too. When we draw, we learn the language of gesture. We naturally adopt the pose or expression we try to imitate on paper. Here's the most charming example I have: A man I saw drawing David.


When I watch a film, no imitation is required of me because minimal translation or imagination is required of me. Even literature may in some ways require more participation in gestural language because it requires creation of the image you're being given. Of course, viewing can be more than passive.

III

I have found Belazs' thesis to be true when have argued about what a character is feeling. When Kenkichi's mother tells him Noriko has agreed to marry him in Early Summer, his expression is hard to read. We speculated and argued. When the meaning of an expression/gesture comes into question, I naturally try to imitate that expression/gesture to see how it feels. What do you feel when you rub your hands like Kenkichi, raising your eyebrows slightly and allowing only a hint of a smile?

Comments

  1. Krishnan VenkateshNovember 28, 2021 at 9:40 AM

    Wonderful. I love the word "sprezzatura" -- "a certain nonchalance, so as to conceal all art and make whatever one does or says appear to be without effort and almost without any thought about it" (Castiglione). Just as one can't draw a face without an expression (😒😊), one can't draw a body without gesture. Perhaps the greatest moments in film are mysterious precisely because the expressions and gestures there are non-mimetic; they transcend imitation by being simply themselves.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Noriko and Neglect by Sylas Davidson

Image
     Noriko is highlighted throughout the film and by its viewers for her kindness, her compassion.  She is the only person to take a genuine interest in Tomi and Shūkichi, seemingly outside  of obligation and without patronization.  However, she also seems to rely on tradition to guide her behaviour, taking guidelines as strict rules, to the point of possibly sacrificing her personal happiness. This is most obvious with her continued devotion to her husband, Shōji, and his photo. It’s a little hard to see, but Shōji’s photo appears to be on the top of a simple cabinet or wardrobe with a candle to one side. There doesn’t seem to be anything else, at least not anything easily identifiable, that would  make this a family altar. This appears to be a shrine to Shōji, instead of an altar for worship. Noriko  might not be particularly religious, but she still appears to havecreated an altar, and instead of it being  a place for ...
Read more

The editing skills in Chungking Express

 Editing Tempo: The editing of the film is strange. Wang’s camera looks like time-lapse photography, which creates a weird tempo of the film. The camera moves really fast when the blonde woman and the first cop are running. The fast running, neon light, and time-lapse effect create a dizzy feeling. The opening shot closely follows the blonde woman. After the fast shot, it is a still shot of some chimneys. Only clouds are moving. Then, we have a fast shot of the first cop, 233 runs. He bumped into a man that carries a fake blonde woman. 233 starts to pay attention to the blond fake man. Suddenly, he starts to chase a man whose head is covered by a paper bag. The camera moves to the opposite street and the audience can only see 233 running but the side walkers are all blended into a time-lapsed blurry background. When the camera follows the running 233, it moves very quickly; when the shot is taken across the street, it moves very slowly. These two points of view are alternating...
Read more

Why Watch Movies Anyway? An illustrated double feature. Lozuaway McComsey

Image
Why do we even watch movies? Shouldn’t we be reading, or making something, making love, eating or, best of all, sleeping? What is it about movies that keeps me awake? Literally, why do I lose sleep to watch them (and also, to be fair, the occasional novel)? There is something magical, and more encompassing, than say, looking at a painting or photograph or, yes, reading. And which is the nearest thing to a movie? Pictures, paintings or photos, as a movie is made of a bunch of them (and yes, there is a movie that is entirely painted frames—it’s about van Gogh.) Or novels with their stories? Or is it a soundtrack?  Because the first thing is, movies have audio, which of course, music also has. But I’m not one for listening to music. It’s background noise. I'd rather nap or let my mind wander for 90 seconds before starting something. Ozu, generally, uses music like the 90s food pyramid said to use fats and sugar: sparingly. It’s awesome. Sometimes it adds to the...
Read more