Somewhere in Time

This post contains spoilers.

Exactly a year ago, I watched Somewhere in Time for the first time (according to IMDb, it was released on 3 October 1980).  Over the next month or so, I had a few rough thoughts, and I recently watched the movie again, partially to sort them out.

After Richard and Elise are separated, Richard visits places where they had spent time together.  His motivation seems to be simply to relive his memories, but a number of characteristics in the settings highlights the contrast between the two time periods and illustrates the change in his feelings.

Unless I'm mistaken, no two shots have the exact same composition, but two pairs demonstrate the differences well.

The dull grays in 1980 mirror Richard's depression, while the warm and vivid colors in 1912 complement his delight.  The littered and abandoned shore and picnic area in 1980 also contrast with the idyllic and crowded 1912 locations.

---&---

Richard and Elise both work in theater, Richard as a playwright, and Elise as an actress, and the ephemeral nature of theater matches their relationship.  In its true form, a play exists only in performance, which has a finite duration, and likewise, Richard and Elise spend only a limited amount of time together.

Pride and Prejudice (1995)

Last week, I completed my annual viewing of the 1995 BBC Pride and Prejudice miniseries.  A few months after my previous re-watch, I was thinking about the significance of a seemingly trivial event in Part Two, and I paid close attention to it this time.

At her party, Mrs. Phillips invites Mr. Collins to play whist, and while he confesses that "I know little of the game," he agrees anyway.  When he plays a bad card, Mrs. Phillips becomes a bit irritated with him.

Mrs. Phillips:  "Oh, Mr. Collins!"

Mr. Collins:  "What were trumps again?"

Mrs. Phillips:  "Hearts, Mr. Collins, hearts."

If hearts are taken to represent love (as is common), Mr. Collins's inability to recognize their supremacy here demonstrates (in a small way) his incompatibility with Elizabeth Bennet.  When he proposes to her later in Part Two, he lists his reasons for marrying:

1. "That I think it a right thing for every clergyman to set the example of matrimony in his parish"
2. "That I'm convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness"
3. "Which perhaps I should have mentioned first:  that is the particular recommendation of my noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh"

He continues, "So much for my general intention in favor of matrimony, now, as to my particular choice:  my dear cousin, being as I am to inherit all this estate after the death of your father, I could not satisfy myself without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters.  And now nothing remains but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affections."

He places far more importance on the office of marriage than on the one with whom he shares it, and for him, love is something of an afterthought.  Elizabeth feels the exact opposite.  In Part One, she confides to Jane that "I am determined nothing but the very deepest love will induce me into matrimony."

While Mr. Collins's inept card playing adds some humor, it also illustrates the vast difference between his and Elizabeth's priorities.

Short Circuit

I recently re-watched Short Circuit because it turned forty years old this year.  Later, I realized that Nova is an appropriate name for the robotics company in the movie.  It comes from the Latin adjective novus, -a, -um, which means new.  In this particular form, it's a neuter plural acting as a substantive:  "new [things]."  Like the slogan "TOMORROW IS HERE!" glimpsed shortly after the combat test early in the movie, this name advertises the company's focus on the future.

National Treasure

Recently, I was thinking about a cut between two scenes in National Treasure.  At ~37:29, there's an abrupt transition from Ian and his team sneaking into the basement of the National Archives building to the gala that's happening above.  I'd recognized (instinctively if not consciously) that the two scenes differed in their nature, look, and relative location (a serious robbery beginning in dimly lit tunnels beneath the building compared to a light-hearted party in a bright hall on an upper floor), but I realized that they're also distinguished by their sound.  In the scene with Ian and his team, the sort of techno soundtrack provides a tense feeling, but this is soon replaced by the elegance and sophistication of a Haydn string quartet.  Additionally, since the string quartet is being performed by an ensemble at the gala, it's diegetic, unlike the music in the first scene, which is merely part of the film's soundtrack.  Each pair of these qualities creates a contrast between the two scenes, and when they're combined, the effect is magnified, especially since they involve more than one sense.

The Terminal

Last week, I watched The Terminal again and noticed some aspects that further emphasize a couple points I've previously written about.

In January 2019, I wrote that Viktor Navorski's motivation to help Mr. Milodragovich comes in part from a sympathy for and identification with his paternal affection.  (Milodragovich is trying to procure medicine for his father, demonstrating the same devotion that Navorski shows in his promise to complete his father's autograph collection.)  Milodragovich's name seems to indicate this quality that he shares with Navorski.  According to this site, drag means dear or precious and -ovich means "son of," so the core of the name denotes something like "son of a dear one."  This site explains that the milo- prefix means mercy or grace.

Two years ago, I wrote about Dixon's reaction to Navorski's gift.  He doesn't accept the fish that Navorski tries to give him because it's bigger than any of his own and would make him look bad in comparison, just as Navorski had inadvertently made Dixon look bad in front of the review board by finding a way within the legal system to allow Milodragovich to take the medicine for his father, essentially undermining Dixon's authority.  When Navorski offers Dixon the fish, he says, "Fish for wall."  I realized while watching the movie this time that his comment has the same structure and lack of articles as his earlier "Medicine for goat" from the Milodragovich situation.  This similarity may remind Dixon of the embarrassing event and further stoke his anger towards Navorski.

The Shop Around the Corner

This post contains spoilers.

A couple weeks ago, I re-watched The Shop Around the Corner and noticed some significance in the lighting in the final scene.

Mr. Kralik and Miss Novak, the two main characters, irritate each other at work but anonymously exchange letters through which they've become fond of one an-other.  Eventually, Kralik discovers the true identity of his "dear friend."  In the final scene of the movie, a conversation between Kralik and Novak, Kralik feigns that he has met Novak's correspondent and invents unpleasant details about him.  Novak had been looking forward to marrying him, but with each detail that Kralik fabricates, her spirits sink lower.

As they're talking, Kralik is closing up the shop and turning off the lights.  The increasing darkness visually matches and perhaps even heightens the sense of Novak's growing disappointment.

Shadow of a Doubt

Last week, I watched Shadow of a Doubt again.  I noticed that two scenes have shots that bear enough similarity to each other that they seem meant to invite a comparison and yet differ enough to illustrate a contrast.

Early in the movie, Uncle Charlie looks out a window in Philadelphia to see two detectives who are following him:

He's unnerved at their presence and mutters to himself, "What do you know?  You're bluffing!  You've nothing on me."

In an attempt to escape their surveillance, he goes to visit his sister's family in Santa Rosa, California.  Shortly after he arrives, he looks out the window to see two women chatting:

In the frame, he's facing right instead of left (as he was before), and the two women are oblivious to him, unlike the two male detectives who were keenly watching him.  Rather than reacting with anxiety, he's relaxed and even smiles.  The second scene also has a brighter overall palette, especially the clothing:  Uncle Charlie is wearing a lighter colored suit than he was earlier, and the two women are dressed in white.  All of these opposing details demonstrate the completely different natures of the two settings.