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.

Torn Curtain

Earlier this month (on Julie Andrews' 90th birthday), I watched Torn Curtain for a second time, and I noticed some small significance in the staging of one shot.

The movie is about Michael Armstrong, an American scientist who pretends to defect to East Germany in order to continue his project that the government shut down.  Really, his objective is to talk to Professor Lindt, a scientist behind the iron curtain, and trick him into revealing information that Armstrong needs.

Armstrong first encounters Lindt in a lecture room with tiered seating.  Lindt is sitting up in the back:

His position here indicates two qualities:  his elevation above everyone else demonstrates his importance (especially for Armstrong), and his distance (at the opposite end of the room) shows that - for the moment - he's inaccessible for Armstrong.  Initially, Armstrong isn't allowed to talk to Lindt because of questions of security resulting from Armstrong's unsanctioned visit to a farm (to meet with his contact in a secret organization).

The Ray Bradbury Theater - "The Murderer"

Near the beginning of August, I watched The Ray Bradbury Theater episode "The Murderer," and I noted that an electronic version of the first movement of Bach's third Brandenburg concerto (BWV 1048) is used in the diegetic soundtrack.  Almost two months later (at the end of September), I was thinking about this again and realized that some of the qualities of the piece exemplify the episode's environment.

Most of the episode is simply a conversation between Dr. Arnold Fellows and Albert Brock in a sort of psychiatric center (with flashbacks to show Brock's story).  Brock explains that he became overwhelmed with the constant barrage of sound from various electronic devices ("My whole day was one big listen") and eventually went on a spree to destroy them (after which he was arrested).  To a degree, the baroque polyphony and rather fast allegro tempo of the Bach piece illustrate this excessive stimulation that Brock experienced.

When I re-watched the episode last week, I realized that the placement of the piece also holds some significance.  It's playing outside the room where Fellows and Brock meet, so when Fellows enters and later leaves, there's a sudden transition between Bach and silence as the door closes or opens.  This immediate shift between extremes further highlights the contrast between the two.

The Pianist

Two months ago, I started reading The Art of Watching Films (sixth edition) by Joseph M. Boggs and Dennis W. Petrie, and I decided to try to watch at least some of the movies that are mentioned in it.  A few weeks ago, I watched The Pianist again (it had been about five years since I last saw it), and I noticed two significant details.

When Władysław Szpilman is introduced, he's playing Chopin's Nocturne in C sharp minor on Polish radio.  In the frame, he's facing left:

(I have only the full-screen version.)

Near the end of the movie, he's playing this piece on the radio again, but the shot composition is reversed, so he's now facing right:

Ostensibly, Szpilman has gone back to doing exactly what he did before, as he told Hosenfeld:  "I'll play the piano again, on the Polish radio."  He looks about the same as he did at the beginning of the movie, and he's even playing the same piece.  The difference in composition between these two shots, however, illustrates that there has been a change and that Szpilman has been affected by what he's experienced.

In a scene early in the movie, a German soldier harasses Szpilman's father on the sidewalk.  His comments contain a shift in tone, but this doesn't come across in the English subtitles.

Soldier

Dialogue:  Sie!  Herkommen!  Warum haben Sie sich nicht verbeugt?

Subtitles:  Why didn't you bow?

My translation:  You!  Come here!  Why didn't you bow?

Szpilman's father

Dialogue:  Entschuldigung Sie.

Subtitles:  I beg your pardon.

My translation:  Excuse me.

Soldier

Dialogue:  Euch ist der Gehweg verboten.  In die Gosse mit dir.

Subtitles:  You're forbidden the pavement  In the gutter!

My translation:  For you [plural] the pavement is forbidden.  Into the gutter with you [singular].

Initially, the soldier uses Sie, which is a polite or formal address, but then he switches to dir (the dative form of du).  Normally, du is used only in close relationships (with friends and family, for example).  In this context, it's disrespectful and indicates the soldier's belief that Szpilman's father is inferior to him.  Throughout the movie, other German soldiers also use du (or its inflected forms) when talking to the Jews.  Hosenfeld is an exception to this, though, and consistently addresses Szpilman with the polite Sie.

Pride and Prejudice (1995)

Since I first saw it in 2022, I've watched the 1995 BBC Pride and Prejudice every year.  When I re-watched it last month, I paid close attention to one element in order to confirm a suspicion I formed during my previous annual viewing.  To a degree, the style of Elizabeth Bennet's hair indicates how at ease she is.

For most of the series, her hair is up:

But there are select scenes where her hair is down:

Almost always, these are scenes where she's confiding to Jane:

• Her determination to marry for love instead of money (Part I)
• What Wickham told her about Darcy (Part II)
• Darcy's proposal and his account of Wickham, where she even admits the distress she felt upon reading Darcy's letter since "I had no Jane to comfort me" (Part IV)
• The effects that Lydia's running away with Wickham will have on the rest of the Bennet sisters (Part V)
• Being engaged to Darcy and that she really does love him (Part VI)

The only exceptions are a brief scene in Part I where she says goodnight to Mrs. Bennet, Lydia, and Kitty and two instances where she's sitting by herself and looking at her reflection (in Parts I and VI).  Otherwise, her hair is down only when she's talking with Jane, and this looser mien shows that she's less guarded during these moments than she is in other social contexts.

---&---

Last time I watched the series, I also noticed that Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth both play movements (or at least sections of movements) from Mozart's Piano Sonata No. 11 in A major, K. 331.  Mrs. Hurst plays the third movement ("Alla Turca") at Netherfield in Part II, and Elizabeth plays the opening of the first movement (Andante grazioso) at Rosings Park in Part III.  Because the two selections are from the same work, the series seems to be drawing a comparison between Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth.  At the very least, the difference in character between the two selections matches the relative economic disparity between the two women.  The ostentation of the Turkish march acts almost as a display of Mrs. Hurst's affluence while the gentle balance in the andante demonstrates Elizabeth's more modest circumstances.

Apollo 13

I recently re-watched Apollo 13 (although it was sort of indirectly; I watched it with the commentaries by director Ron Howard and Jim and Marilyn Lovell), and I noticed some significance in the composition of this shot:

In his commentary, Ron Howard briefly mentions that this shot was achieved with a diopter, so that Marilyn in the background and the NASA squawk box in the foreground are both in focus.  This sort of visual presentation highlights the distance between the two, which in turn emphasizes the space between Marilyn and Jim.  In this shot, she's far away even from the object that merely represents him.  At this point in the movie, the Apollo 13 spacecraft is going around the dark side of the moon and is therefore out of radio contact, and these circumstances also contribute to this sense of separation.

The Music Man

After I wrote about The Music Man last month, I was thinking about Marian Paroo and Harold Hill again and realized that (excepting the fact that Hill is actually a fake) there are a number of contrasts between them as music teachers and that these differences may contribute to their initial antagonism.

As a piano teacher, Marian Paroo interacts with students individually (as is shown with Amaryllis), but Hill, as a band leader, deals with multiple musicians simultaneously.  Paroo's piano is definitely a stationary instrument, but Hill's band is mobile.  The piano is also fully polyphonic, but most (if not all) of the instruments in a marching band are monophonic.

Paroo and Hill are so different that even with respect to this one similarity (their positions as music teachers), they have very little in common.

The Hunger Games

A few months ago, I was thinking about the reaping scene in The Hunger Games (at the time, I was reading the reaping scene in Sunrise on the Reaping).  I remembered a particular detail about it and realized its significance, and last week, I watched the movie again in order to pay closer attention to it.

When Effie Trinket announces, "Primrose Everdeen" as the girl tribute from District 12, the level on her microphone peaks because of the plosive P in Primrose.  The ugliness of this sound matches the life-shattering nature of this moment, both for Prim herself and for her sister Katniss, who is the main character.

The same effect is also present when Effie announces Peeta Mellark as the boy tribute (the plosive P of Peeta causes the microphone level to peak), but it doesn't have nearly the same volume or intensity.  For Katniss, Peeta's being selected as tribute isn't as disconcerting because (at this point, anyway) the relationship between them isn't as strong as the one between Katniss and Prim.

I was also able to confirm a suspicion I had about the film's look.  Especially during the reaping, the shots in District 12 are rather de-saturated, with a minimal number of colors:

This palette heightens the contrast between District 12 and the Capitol, which has both a larger variety of colors and a greater vividness of them.  Here's a shot from the tribute parade:

I also saw something I hadn't noticed before.  When Katniss is under the effects of the tracker jacker venom and hallucinates about the mining accident that killed her father, there's one shot where every miner has her father's face:

While this shows the disorienting nature of the venom, it also illustrates the profound effect that Katniss's father's death had (and continues to have) on her.  In the hallucination, it's literally amplified.

[For what it's worth:  I've also written short posts about the book trilogy and the movie version of Catching Fire.]

Bones

A couple weeks ago, I realized that the title of the show Bones has a sort of dual meaning.  Primarily, it refers to the physical remains that the scientists examine in the lab in order to solve murders (and it also signifies Dr. Temperance Brennan, whom Special Agent Seeley Booth calls Bones because she deals with these remains), but it could also have a more figurative application.  In an-other sense, bones can mean "the basic design or framework," and this matches the aim of the characters in a crime procedural:  they sift through the evidence and suspects, eliminate irrelevant data, and ultimately discover the bare truth.

Star Trek: The Next Generation - S1E3 - "Code of Honor"

Recently, I watched the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Code of Honor" (S1E3).  The next day, I was thinking about the names of a couple of the characters and realized that in a small way, they mirror how the characters relate to each other.

As Captain Picard explains at the beginning of the episode, the Enterprise has come to Ligon II to negotiate a treaty to receive a vaccine from its ruler Lutan.  During a tour of the vessel, Lutan becomes impressed by Lieutenant Natasha Yar, the security officer, and when he leaves, he abducts her.  The Enterprise crew are wary of doing anything to insult the Ligonians or jeopardize the exchange of the vaccine, but when Captain Picard does ask for the return of Lieutenant Yar, Lutan refuses, explaining that he loves Yar and wants her to become his "first one."  Lutan's wife Yareena takes offense at this and challenges Yar to "a struggle to the death," which is the primary concern during the second half of the episode.

The names Yar and Yareena resemble each other, drawing attention to the somewhat parallel positions of the two women in the same way that the plot has narrowed its focus to the conflict between them.  There's a significant difference, however, in that Yareena seems to be a diminutive form of Yar (using something like the Italian suffix -ina, audibly, if not orthographically).  This indicates an inequality between the two.  In a meeting with Yareena prior to the fight, Yar tells her that "there is no physical training anywhere that matches Starfleet, especially its security people," and she eventually does best Yareena in combat.

The Music Man

I was recently reminded of The Music Man and remembered a number of realizations I'd previously had about Harold Hill's character.

It's clear from Hill's interactions with his friend Marcellus Washburn that the name Harold Hill is actually a pseudonym that he uses as a fraudulent salesman (Washburn calls him Gregory or just Greg a number of times).  Significantly, the name Harold Hill alliterates.  This quality illustrates his artifice and also draws attention to him, almost acting like a lure.  The "Hill" part may even be meant to evoke a sort of beacon to which people are drawn.

Near the end of "Ya Got Trouble," Hill stands in front of a statue of Henry Madison, an important philanthropist for the town, and exhorts the crowd, "Remember, my friends:  listen to me because I pass this way but once."  When he says that he "pass[es] this way but once," he means it genuinely, unlike some of his other claims, but even this is twisted to his own advantage.  By the time he leaves, the townspeople will know he's a fake, so he wouldn't dare return, but he casts his temporary presence in a positive light and advertises it as a valuable exclusivity instead.

At the end of his address, he winds up in nearly the same posture as the statue of Madison:

Here's a video from Turner Classic Movies of the full song:

It's a great visual gag, but it may also indicate an-other facet of Hill's savvy.  Possibly, he's hoping that mirroring Madison's pose will transfer some of Madison's influence to him, making it easier for him to deceive the citizens of River City.

---&---

When I re-watched the movie earlier this week, I also noticed some specific elements that seem to attract Marian Paroo to Hill.  In "Being in Love," Paroo describes her ideal man, and one characteristic is an interest in the classics, specifically Shakespeare and Beethoven:  "And if occasionally he'd ponder / What makes Shakespeare and Beethoven great, / Him I could love till I die."  While Hill is far from meeting her ideal in most respects, he does demonstrate at least a passing familiarity with both Shakespeare and Beethoven.  In the candy kitchen, after Marian tells him, "I think it was wonderful of you sticking up for Tommy Djilas the way you did," he replies, "Well, a man can't go back on his principles merely because a little personal risk is involved.  What does the poet say?  'A coward dies a thousand deaths; a brave man only five hundred.'"  He seems to be referencing lines from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar:  "Cowards die many times before their deaths; / The valiant never taste of death but once" (II.ii.32-33).  Meanwhile, as per Hill's instructions, the band is practicing Beethoven's Minuet in G (WoO 10, No. 2) using his "think system."  While Hill's interest in Shakespeare and Beethoven may not be quite as Paroo had envisioned, it does exist.

Star Wars: Rebels - S1E6 - "Breaking Ranks"

Recently, I lookt at the trivia for the Star Wars: Rebels episode "The Occupation" (S4E5).  The earlier episode "Breaking Ranks" (S1E6), specifically the Imperial cadet Oleg, is referenced, and I had a few realizations about it.

In "Breaking Ranks," Ezra poses as cadet Dev Morgan in order to infiltrate the Imperial facility on Lothal and acquire a device that will allow The Ghost crew to locate an Imperial shipment containing a Kyber crystal.  During his time there, he befriends fellow cadets Jai Kell and Zare Leonis.  These three contrast with Oleg in superficial ways that mirror deeper differences in their characters.

Ezra Bridger (even undercover as Dev Morgan), Jai Kell, and Zare Leonis all have first and last names, and their last names highlight their familial connections:  although he's separated from them, Ezra has a strong attachment to his parents, and he recently joined his Rebels family; Jai mentions that his family consists of just him and his mother; and Zare is looking for his sister, who disappeared from the academy.  Oleg's single name seems to indicate that he lacks a family; all he has is the Empire.

Throughout the episode, Ezra, Jai, and Zare frequently take off their helmets or at least open the face panel, but Oleg is never seen without his.  That Oleg remains faceless illustrates that his individuality is being subsumed as he becomes part of the standardized Empire.

Both of these contrasts also match the difference in the characters' ties to the Empire.  Ezra was never truly a cadet; he was only working undercover at the academy.  Jai defects at the end of the episode, after Ezra and Zare explain the true nature of the Empire to him.  While Zare does stay at the academy, he does so only to continue searching for his sister, not because of any true allegiance.  Oleg, on the other hand, was always loyal to the Empire.

---&---

In re-watching the episode, I noticed some small significance in one of the Inquisitor's statements.  Upon reviewing the events at the academy, he looks at images of Jai and Ezra and says, "I do not know this boy [Jai], but this one [Ezra] I know."  His comment has a chiastic structure, which emphasizes these opposites:

I do not know

this boy,

but this one

I know.

[A couple years ago, I wrote a post about the opening shot of this episode.]

The Terminal

Earlier this month, I was thinking about The Terminal again, and I re-watched it in order to look into a couple points (also because I've been watching a lot of Steven Spielberg movies recently).

The second time that Viktor Navorski meets Amelia Warren, he lends her his handkerchief.  When she returns it, she asks him, "What's BH?" mistaking the Cyrillic letters of his monogram for Latin letters (in full, his name is something like Виктор Наворски in Cyrillic).  In a small way, her assumption that the letters are Latin matches what she says about herself shortly before this:  "I always see men the way I wanna see 'em."

Later, the two meet by chance in Borders, where Amelia is buying a book about Napoleon.  She tells Viktor that Napoleon is "one of my favorites," and Viktor subsequently develops his own interest in Napoleon.  His primary motivation seems to be a desire to have something in common with Amelia, but he may also identify with Napoleon because their situations are similar.  Amelia tells him, "After he loses the Battle of Waterloo, Napoleon isolates himself on the tiny island of St. Helena."  (According to Britannica, Napoleon became a recluse while he was exiled there, so this is isolation even within confinement.)  To some degree, Viktor is also isolated because he's stuck in the terminal.

[The Terminal is my favorite movie, and I've written about it multiple times now.  Click here for all of my posts about it.]

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story

A couple months ago, I ran across the word bodhisattva ("a being that compassionately refrains from entering nirvana in order to save others and is worshipped as a deity in Mahayana Buddhism") and learned that the Sanskrit word bodhi means enlightenment.  This reminded me of the character Bodhi Rook in Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, so I watched the movie again to see what connection the word and its meaning have to the character (also because I recently finished watching Andor, which immediately precedes Rogue One chronologically).

If the character's name is meant to indicate an enlightenment, this enlightenment (the realization of the Empire's oppression and terror) seems to have occurred before the events of the movie.  By the time Bodhi appears, it's well established that he has defected from the Empire.  He tells Jyn, "Your father, he said I could get right by myself.  He said I could make it right if I was brave enough to listen to what was in my heart.  Do something about it."  While the actual moment of his enlightenment isn't shown, it continues to motivate his actions.

---&---

For what it's worth:  this isn't the first instance of Sanskrit in Star Wars.  There are some Sanskrit words in "The Duel of the Fates" near the end of The Phantom Menace.  At about 3:11 in a featurette titled "Movie Music," John Williams explains to the choir that "I've chosen these Sanskrit words because of the, the quality of the vowels."