Sunday 14 February 2010

Problems of the classical Hollywood narrative / art cinema dichotomy

“The classical narrative cinema – paradigmatically, studio feature filmmaking in Hollywood since 1920 – rests upon particular assumptions about narrative structure, cinematic style and spectatorial activity… the art cinema defines itself explicitly against the classical narrative mode.”
- David Bordwell
The mainstream Hollywood feature film and the art cinema are commonly presented as polar opposites. David Bordwell’s ‘The Art Cinema as a Mode of Film Practice,’ one of the most influential pieces of writing on the art cinema, seeks to emphasise just this. In it linear, cause and effect narratives populated by goal-orientated characters are pitched against episodic and accidental sequences of events revolving around psychologically complex characters. Clarity, consequence and internal logic are pitched against ambiguity, the loosening of causal relations. In one style is unobtrusive, the other seeks to foreground it, the aesthetic becoming as central to meaning as narrative cohesion. They are the antithesis of one another, inhabiting completely different worlds.

What is troubling about this premise is the undeniable relationship between the two supposedly separate modes. Following the court rulings which made illegal the practice of vertical integration, effectively ending the reign of the major Hollywood studios in 1948, the American film industry, for at least a period of time, relied heavily on an influx of European ‘art’ films in order to fulfil quotas. Far from being a passing trend, audiences began to warm to these films and soon enough ‘art house’ cinemas were specialising in exhibition of films by the likes of Federico Fellini, Ingmar Bergman, François Truffaut and Akira Kurosawa. Art cinema was slowly working its way into the consciousness of the American public, offering an alternative to the generic gangster films and westerns that had for so long dominated the American film industry.

This depiction of art cinema, as a cinema that is entirely at odds with the Hollywood narrative film, is to some extent accurate when considering the time period in which art films were first introduced to the American film industry. Art cinema does utilise its own set of conventions that often place it firmly at odds with the Hollywood narrative film, and this is certainly true of the art films of the 1950s, including, for example, Fellini’s La Strada (1954, Italy), Bergman’s Wild Strawberries (1957, Sweden), Truffaut’s The 400 Blows (1959, France) and later in the 60s, Michelangelo Antonioni’s L’avventura (1960, Italy). Most of these films, however, are products of cinematic movements such as the French New Wave and Italian neo-realism which were born out of political and cultural events and situations that are specific to their countries of origin. The introduction of these films into the American industry at any point would have inevitably sparked debate as to their difference with the Hollywood narrative film. They are different for many reasons, as Bordwell comprehensively discusses, and are as different to each other as they are to the American cinema.

The art film and the Hollywood narrative film share further links. The highly regarded film noirs of the 1940s – 50s are commonly cited as taking inspiration from the visual style of German expressionism, as pointed out by Michael Walker in ‘The Movie Book of Film Noir;’ “In particular, critics have sought to relate the noir visual style to the imagery of the German Expressionist movement of the ‘twenties.” This influence is usually characterised by the use of expressionistic lighting techniques and a distinctive use of shadow, a perfect example of this being the sequence in Stranger on the Third Floor (dir. Boris Ingster, 1940) in which the film’s protagonist Mike Ward catches a glimpse of the ‘stranger’ (played by Peter Lorre) on the stairway of his apartment as their shadows stretch jarringly across the walls behind them.

The movement of German expressionism itself is credited by some as giving rise to the art cinema, and evidence of expressionistic influences on the film noir cycle can also be attributed to the emigration of popular German filmmakers and actors to America during the 1930s. Peter Lorre had his first starring role in Fritz Lang’s M (1931, Germany) and went on to act in several successful German features until the rise of the Nazi party led him to flee the country in 1933. Lorre came to prominence in Hollywood by embracing his reputation for playing foreign villains and went on to star in a number of films that are seen as being instrumental in the film noir cycle including The Maltese Falcon (dir. John Huston, 1941) and Casablanca (1942) which was directed by Michael Curtiz, another emigrant director who travelled to America during the height of the expressionist movement.

Fritz Lang’s emigration to America in 1934 is also significant to the rise of film noir. Lang is a perfect example of Walker’s accomplished émigré directors “who contributed most impressively to film noir… [and] had a direct or indirect association with the expressionist movement,” citing also Otto Preminger, Billy Wilder and Michael Curtiz. Lang’s appeal when making films for UFA in Germany centred on his ability to mix popular narrative trends with expressionist techniques as cited by Michel Mourlet, “[in the films of Lang] an aesthetic is outlined which naturally took its basic elements from the state of the contemporary cinema [and this is] compensated for by distorting appearances into visual metaphors.” In this sense, Lang’s films can be viewed as a perfect example of a Hollywood narrative film / art film hybrid, securing for him a reputation as a filmmaker capable of courting mass appeal and yet critical acceptance as a figure of the art cinema. This premise is furthered by the film noir cycle, in which Lang was a prominent figure. Film noirs often utilised existing generic narrative templates such as the gangster film and the police procedural while incorporating the aesthetics of expressionism, particularly the aforementioned low key lighting and resulting use of shadow.

Occupying, as it does, a place in the history of the American cinema, film noir’s expressionist influences are well documented and widely accepted. With expressionism giving rise to the art film and film noir representing a cycle of films that owe as much to art cinema in aesthetics as they do to the classical Hollywood film in narrative, the impression that art cinema has made, through various means, on the Hollywood narrative film seems not only obvious, but undeniable. Therefore, the classical Hollywood / art cinema dichotomy proposed by David Bordwell, although useful in determining the formal differences between the two modes, cannot be accepted as an blanket truth. Far from being the polar opposites that they are commonly thought of being, art cinema influences Hollywood just as Hollywood influences art cinema. When treating the two modes as intrinsically linked, it is possible to assume that the ‘seed’ of art cinema was in a sense already planted within the consciousness of the American public as far back as the 1940s. The noir cycle essentially primed the American audience for the introduction of the European art film into the American industry in the 1950s and 60s.

The increase in critical debate over this introduction should be viewed as nothing more than a reaction to the assimilation of a foreign product into the American industry, which had been self reliant for as long as it had existed.

Art cinema in the context of American independent cinema

“Exactly how ‘independence’ is defined can vary in both form and degree… [there are] three main points of orientation: the position of individual films, or filmmakers, in terms of (1) their industrial location, (2) the kinds of formal / aesthetic strategies they adopt and (3) their relationship to the broader social, cultural, political or ideological landscape.”

- Geoff King
Aside from the specific origins of art cinema and its assimilation into the American film industry, one thing can be considered a truth: its impact created a demand which was to be met by both the major studios and independent filmmakers in the Hollywood era post 1950. American independent cinema, more so than the cinema of the Hollywood majors, has been seen to embrace the notion of art cinema, and therefore has become a breeding ground for the more diverse cinematic conventions and traits that are inherently linked with the art film. King goes on to establish the numerous ways in which the American independent film distances itself from the mainstream Hollywood product; “they are produced in an ultra-low budget world a million miles from that of the Hollywood blockbuster; they adopt formal strategies that disrupt or abandon the smoothly flowing conventions associated with the mainstream Hollywood style; and they offer challenging perspectives on social issues, a rarity in Hollywood.” As with Bordwell’s criticism of the art cinema, the underlying premise of King’s discussion of independent cinema is its polarisation with that of the mainstream Hollywood dominant mode, and essentially for the same reasons. Chuck Kleinhans in his article ‘Independent Features: Hopes and Dreams’ encourages an understanding of the term ‘independent’ “as a relational term – independent in relation to the dominant system – rather than taken as a practice that is totally free-standing and autonomous.” This serves to strengthen the line of criticism that translates to little more than a comparison of the two modes and furthers the view that they are opposites, linked only by their disparity.

This, just as is the case with the classical Hollywood narrative / art cinema dichotomy, is problematic, if only because of the extent to which major studios take interest in the independent sector. Based on the huge success, in terms of critical reception and box office return, generated by a number of independent features in the mid 80s and early 90s (a period in which Steven Soderbergh’s sex, lies and videotape (1989) won major awards at both Cannes and the Sundance film festival and talents such as Quentin Tarantino and the Coen brothers began to emerge) Hollywood studios began to sense that money could be made. Major studios began bidding for independent features and before long every major studio had a production arm specialising in the development of independent film; Sony Pictures created Sony Pictures Classics, Twentieth Century Fox created Fox Searchlight and Paramount established Paramount Classics. Miramax and New Line Cinema, two of the names at the forefront of distribution in independent films are now owned by major studios, Disney and Time-Warner. Lionsgate Entertainment and Artisan Entertainment, the two largest non-studio owned production and distribution companies merged in 2003, creating a so-called ‘mini-major’ studio, but despite owning a back catalogue of films more than capable of providing financial stability, Lionsgate still frequently acts as a co-financier and silent partner in the co-production of major studio Hollywood films. In addition to this, the company often takes on the distribution of films that are deemed too risky or controversial to be handled by the distribution arms of Hollywood majors. Dogma (dir. Kevin Smith, 1999), a film that provoked moral outrage at the hands of the Catholic Church, was one such case. The relationship between the major studios and the independent sector can be seen as an exploitative one, with the majors only stepping in when they see an opportunity to make money or are unable to handle a film, but the independent sector undoubtedly benefits from major studio involvement in terms of potential for profit and attractive marketing opportunities.

One of the general conceptions based around the differences between the major studios and the independent sector is that the former is profit orientated at the expense of artistic merit and the latter seeks artistic acceptance at the expense of profit. Although this is to an extent true (an extent which will be decided by the preferences and interests of the individual), the interrelationship between the two makes this more complicated. What is certain is that independent filmmaking, in the sense of film production that is completely separate from major studio interference, attributes a level of freedom to the filmmaker unprecedented in the major studio climate. This freedom is of paramount importance when making a film that is ‘meant’ to oppose the stylistic and narrative conventions of the Hollywood narrative film.

In short, independent filmmakers have the freedom to adhere to principals of art cinema, but also the freedom to emulate the classical narrative film if they wish. In this sense, the American independent sector has the necessary autonomy to act as a link between mainstream Hollywood productions and art cinema making a strict dichotomy between the two even harder to define or defend.

Darren Aronofsky: part mainstream, part art house, part independent

What I hope to have shown so far is that while the relationship between Hollywood, art cinema and the independent sector is often presented as a series of dichotomies (Hollywood vs. art cinema, independent cinema vs. Hollywood) they are all actually part of a complicated relationship that draws on all aspects of their economical and artistic positions. It is possible for a film or a filmmaker to draw on the narrative and stylistic qualities of all three modes in order to create a product that exists as both part of the independent sector and the wider art film movement whilst adhering to the more conventional aspects of the classical Hollywood narrative film.

This will be the focus of my discussion from now on. I have chosen the films of American writer / director Darren Aronofsky to demonstrate this possibility, and will do so through a formal analysis of his three films to date; Pi (1998), Requiem for a Dream (2000) and The Fountain (2006). I believe that Aronofsky’s films represent the link that I have established between the classical Hollywood narrative film and art cinema. As a writer / director he is located firmly within the independent sector having had no involvement with the major studios during the production of his first two films. His third marked a move into the major studio production climate, and I will evaluate the implications this had on his filmmaking in my chapter on The Fountain. Bearing Aronofsky’s location in the independent sector in mind, and the importance of this in terms of the freedom it creates, I will include a summary of each film’s production in order to give an account of the hardships of independent filmmaking.

My main analysis will centre on the functions of narrative, theme and visual style in each of Aronofsky’s films, all of which utilise conventions that are apparent in both mainstream Hollywood cinema and art cinema. Aronofsky’s narratives are based on cause and effect logic, yet lack the closure demanded by Hollywood blockbusters. A great deal of emphasis is placed on hallucinatory sequences and flashbacks which blur the line between reality and fantasy (what Bordwell calls “the familiar ‘illusion / reality’ dichotomy” ) yet the films retain a level of cohesion that is indicative of their Hollywood influence. Thematically his films deal with internal psychological issues and in the case of Requiem for a Dream these issues are linked with specific social problems. On an aesthetic level Aronofsky often seeks to foreground visual style, but never does he let this overpower the narrative of his films, believing that to do so is to undermine the message of the film and create a culture of ‘MTV films’ which ultimately place style over substance.

Central to the films of Aronofsky is a constant return to the theme of obsession and addiction. Pi’s protagonist Max Cohen is obsessed with the possible use of mathematics to unlock hidden patterns in the stock market; Requiem for a Dream’s characters are all victims of drug addiction, desperate to escape their realities and in The Fountain, the protagonist Tommy obsessively searches for a medical cure in the hope of saving his wife from her inevitable death. This obsession is not only portrayed explicitly through narrative means; visual motifs and narrative structuring exposes and enhances the dilemma of the characters, foregrounding their struggle. Editing is used to great effect, and the aforementioned hallucinatory sequences serve to portray the extent of each character’s descent into the depths of fixation. Bordwell suggests that in the art film “the protagonist’s itinerary is not completely random; it has a rough shape: a trip, an idyll, a search…” and this is certainly true of Aronofsky’s films. The character’s obsessions lead them on journeys, both literally and metaphorically, and they are constantly searching, frantic in the hope of accomplishment or just a longing for peace.

This focus on addiction and obsession perhaps best typifies the influence of the art cinema in Aronofsky’s films. His characters are psychologically complex; their obsessions block the path to their goals and forbid them the luxury of performing as classical Hollywood protagonists. For this reason, the underlying theme of addiction and obsession will feature prominently in my analysis of Aronofsky’s work. Further consistency in thematic representation through visual style and narrative function gives rise to the premise of a cinematic vision permeating Aronofsky’s films. Through an analysis of the areas that I have proposed I will uncover a unified strand of filmmaking that stretches through Aronofsky’s three films despite their radical shift in subject matter and initial aesthetic qualities.