Starts with a C

This past week in Intro to Cinema class, we watched two classics virtually back-to-back: Citizen Kane and Casablanca. I'd seen both of them before. I'd never had the chance to critically analyze Casablanca before, but I'd definitely analyzed Citizen Kane (because pretty much the only time you ever watch that movie is when you're in a film class), and when it came time to submit the weekly film journal, I decided to compare the two. We saw the films a week apart, with plenty of discussion between the two screenings. This journal-style essay was the result.

I guess it goes without saying that as far as classics go, I find this much more enjoyable than Citizen Kane, mainly because I can watch this one without wanting to sock the main character in the face (sorry, Orson Welles). However, watching the two films virtually back-to-back (if you consider the fact that I didn’t watch any other movies between the two screenings “watching them back-to-back”) gave me new perspective on both films. I'm not saying Citizen Kane sucks--far from it--but I noticed things about both films that I hadn't thought of before.

First of all, the direction—and by extension the acting—seems much more refined in Casablanca. Not that the acting in Citizen Kane sucks, because there are some incredible performances Citizen Kane, but in some (and by some, I mean a lot) scenes, Orson Welles seems like a loose cannon, which can take away from the believability. I’d be inclined to think that this is mostly because the director of Casablanca wasn’t trying to play the lead role of the film as well. I know from experience that it’s difficult to direct and play a major character at the same time—not impossible by any stretch, but definitely a challenge, and not something that any sane person would recommend doing for a director’s first feature film.

In Casablanca, you identify with the characters. The Hollywood Production Code was clearly worried about that, because they insisted on the film ending with Ilsa going with her husband—but the audience can at least understand her motives, even if they don’t necessarily agree with her actions. Yes, she commits adultery, but at the time of her affair she doesn’t realize that she is cheating. Same for Rick—is it a slight shock when he shoots Major Strasser at the end? Yes, but he is doing it so two innocent people can escape to safety. Can we understand why Ilsa is torn between two men? I can. The film is set up in a way that allows us to feel sympathy for both her husband and her lover, without taking away the element of competition between the two men.

In class we discussed the idea of Welles being a “kid in a candy shop” on the set of Citizen Kane, a concept that is thrown into even sharper relief when compared to the subtlety of Casablanca. Last week in my journal, I talked about how the moods of the characters in Citizen Kane are demonstrated via dramatic lighting and cinematography. Casablanca, by contrast, does not rely exclusively on lights, sets, and camera angles to tell the story. Because the directing is more refined, the lighting can set the mood and then allow the characters to take over the scene, rather than being the driving force behind the scene.

I’m thinking of the scene where Ilsa explains herself to Rick and they make up. The lighting is immaculate—the room is dimly lit, clearly meant to be dark, but it’s not so dark or so heavily shadowed that you can’t see the actors’ faces during the emotionally tense scene. Same for the ending—it’s dark outside, it’s definitely nighttime, and it works for the tone of the scene because it’s definitely a bittersweet end, but the lighting is meant to highlight the performances rather than carry the entire scene. In some films, like Citizen Kane, the lighting is as much of a character as the actors, and in some films that works—but the lighting in Casablanca helps the actors subtly manipulate the audience’s emotions. Overall with Casablanca I get a sense of maturity and consistency. There is drama, but it doesn’t cross over into full-on melodrama, and I think that’s mainly because of the strong direction, strong performances, and subtly artistic lighting and camerawork.

When You Have the Chance

There is one basic fact that no one understands about photography (including amateur photographers *coughmecoughcough*): your first shot is never your best. Case in point: it took me over 24 hours just to sort and choose the photos for this blog post. Out of the 200 pictures I snagged at McDaniel College Advocacy Team's Night of Nets, only 72 were usable. Out of those, I chose the final 20, a.k.a. the ones I'm posting here. I was there from 8:30 to 11:30 PM, so it took three hours to get 20 photos. But I'm not complaining, because Night of Nets is an amazing cause, and anytime Mara (leader of McDaniel Advocacy Team) asks me to do something, I will do it. I don't care what part of my schedule I have to rearrange. I don't care what I have to miss. If she needs me, I will there.

Simply put, Night of Nets is about malaria. The main purposes are to raise money for bed nets and raise awareness about malaria. Participants sleep outside in tents all night, make t-shirts, give donations to organizations that distribute malaria treatment to the most-affected locations, paint and draw malaria-related posters, and write postcards to spread awareness of malaria. Advocacy Team does this every year. Last year (my freshman year) I was a lot more involved. This year, I couldn't be as involved in preparation (thank you, Allies Affinity House and peer mentor job), but Mara asked me if I wouldn't mind coming out and taking some photos on the big night. And like I said, I can never say no to Mara.

The full photoset will be up on Flickr and Facebook by Monday, but I wanted to post a preview here first. I love these pictures, not because they're mind-blowingly good (they're not--I still have a lot to learn about night photography), but because I love Night of Nets and I love that Mara let me be a part of it again. I can't be in Advocacy Team this semester thanks to a class at the exact same time as the meetings, but that doesn't mean I can't stay involved. And believe me, I will do anything I can to stay involved in something as amazing as Advocacy Team.



The highlights of Night of Nets 2012:

The Pants Mission

Ten Things To Say In A Clothing Store If You Want To Make The Sales Clerk Laugh Her Ass Off:

1) "Can you help me? I don't wear pants very often."

2) "Pants confuse me. I think they do it on purpose. They smell my fear."

3) "I think I might be allergic to pants...is that medically possible?"

4) "I like these pants. They don't look like they were just snatched from a band of angry narwhals."

5) "Oh my God, I found the Holy Grail of pants!"

6) "I can't wear skinny pants. I look like I've just been stepped on."

7) "Is it okay for leprechauns to wear bootcut pants?"

8) "I've never bought my own pants before...wait, that came out wrong."

9) "Oh my God, I did the impossible...I FOUND COMFORTABLE PANTS."

10) "I do stupid things when I'm in love...like voluntarily buy pants."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes. I said all of these today. It actually happened.

Lovebird, this is what I go through for you. Are you happy now? You have successfully pants-ified me.

P.S. Damn right I love you...I wouldn't go through the Pants Mission for anyone else.

The Lucky One

So much has happened in these last few weeks I can't even begin to describe it all. I've gone back to college and moved in with six incredible young women who make my life complete (and completely insane). I've grown up so much since my summer at Interlochen. When things happen this fast there really isn't much you can do except grab onto something, hold tight, and wait for the ride to end so you can pull yourself together.

I had ten days to be ready to go back to college, followed by an insane two weeks of peer mentor training and orientation. The semester was off to an insane start: the drama commenced before we'd even finished moving in. For the first two weeks I was scared, vulnerable and unfocused. I poured my nervous energy into my mentees. You know how it is when you can't get away from drama--especially when it's not just your own, but everyone else's, because you're so involved with your friends that their shit follows you around too? Yeah. That. That's how it felt.

And then, last Friday night, the unthinkable happened.

I am in a relationship.

I have a girlfriend. I am someone's girlfriend. I like someone, and she likes me back.

I was not expecting this. I didn't know it was coming, but apparently all my friends could see it coming a mile away, because there was practically a full-blown conspiracy to set us up. (Actually, my house leader jokingly promised me a party if I got away from my destructive former crush and dated this girl.) I didn't even realize I had feelings for her until someone pointed it out to me. Only then did I realize what an idiot I was, not to see something that was pretty much staring me in the face.

It takes me a long time to fall for someone. When I have a crush it's instantaneous, it's that instant jolt of physical or mental attraction. When I am in love it's slow-building, it takes me a long time to realize, wait a minute, I actually care about this person in a different way...WHOA...where'd that come from? And then it takes me even longer to get used to it enough to do anything about it. My friends forced me to speed up that procedure and I'm so glad they did. Because I am happier than I've been for a long time...and it's because of her.

I wrote on my Tumblr the day after we got together, Am I allowed to look at other people? Are other people allowed to look at me? I think I’ve gone through life with this idea that as soon as I was taken, people would stop looking at me. Then I realized, well, no one ever really checks me out anyway. Now, maybe it’s because she has only recently managed to convince me that I’m not hideously unattractive, but suddenly, looks that I usually would interpret as “you must be crazy” I am suddenly interpreting as “hmm, I’d scoop that.” Is this wrong of me? Am I crazy, or is this really happening?

She calls me beautiful. She calls me sweetheart. I wrote her a love letter, and she told me I have pretty handwriting (she’s wrong, but I didn’t tell her that). And every time she pushes my hair out of my eyes, or rests her forehead against mine, or kisses the back of my hand or the base of my neck or whatever part of me happens to be within kissing range, a little electric shock runs through me. How long am I allowed to be ridiculously, insanely happy about this? Is there an expiration date, or will I go through the rest of my life giggling like an idiot whenever someone mentions her name?

I wish I had the answers to my billion-and-one questions--but I clearly don't. Here is what I know: after a freaking scary start, my sophomore year is finally starting to click. And I know why. And I'm going to hold onto that.

Come at me, McDaniel. I have a new partner-in-crime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of my photography as of late has been focused on learning to take pictures "in the moment" rather than spending a ton of time trying to set up each shot. This meant learning to take better pictures of humans (one of the aspects I still struggle with) as well. Most of these are from my summer job at Interlochen Center for the Arts--but a few are from college and home as well. Take a look:

I refuse, I refuse, I refuse

So, less than twenty-four hours later...yeah, I kind of like to work fast with this sort of thing...I've started a petition politely requesting that the MPAA wise up.

Here's the thing: I've been talking to people about this. We've assembled a team and we're going to do something about it. We will be Hipster Activists no longer.

You know what I mean about hipster activism, right? I mean that people sit around on Facebook and complain about how awful the media is and how awful the government is. And, okay, in some cases, they have a point. But here's the thing: I don't want to just sit here and whine about how awful it is that violene in films is totally acceptable, while lovemaking is considered "the devil."

Now, I am not saying that we should go back to the Production Code days. But I do think they were on to something when they made a stipulation that murder and rape scenes should be essential to the plot and should happen largely off-camera. Because it just blows my mind that violence against women--which is so often used as a plot device in films even now, when the "damsel in distress" archetype has been challenged over and over--is allowed to slip through into PG-13 and R films, which are marketed in the mainstream media and are given TV spots and advertising budgets. BUT. When a statement is made about it, or it is used in a realistic context, such as in Boys Don't Cry? It's slapped with an NC-17. And they go on and on about the violence, but the truth of it is, they're squicked out by the (non-explicit, very poigniant) sex scenes between a girl and a transgender boy. That's the bottom line.

And for those of you sitting there yelling, "You hypocrite, you slam violence in films but you gush about A Clockwork Orange on a daily basis!"--let me point out here, when that movie was withdrawn in the UK, it was withdrawn for violence. Not for the far-away, sped-up threesome sex scene, which surely would have gotten it banned in America. But for the violence. Also--much of the violence is implied in that film, as well. Think about it: During the rape scene, you do not actually see Alex rape the woman. They cut away before it happens. In the scene where he kills the woman with the statue--you do not actually see her die.

Murder and rape: only used when essential to the plot, done mostly off-camera.

Here's what you can do. Sign the petition. Watch Merchants of Cool. Watch This Film is Not Yet Rated.

If you want to help, that is. Remember: This is all my opinion. Educated and informed opinion, yes, but opinion nonetheless. I'm not trying to force anyone to think the way I think. I just want to help.

Whatever it takes

I take back what I said in my last serious post, about not wanting to offend anyone. I hope that the people at whom this rant is directed are offended. I want them to be so offended they do something about what I'm about to discuss. I hope and pray and someday, I will do more. This is my promise. This is one of the key reasons I refuse to go to Hollywood, even just for film school.

The MPAA. They are among the people I blame for tragedies like what happened in Aurora. Do my few readers think that I, a film student who will someday have dealings with this organization, am crazy for publicly stating this? I don't care. Because as I said in my previous post, I don't have an agenda. (Yet. But I will. Because I don't plan on letting this slide.) I just write what I feel, and I feel that the MPAA has saturated our culture with violence.

Watch This Film Is Not Yet Rated, and you will get a clearer picture of what I mean. I won't go into their full ratings process and how incredibly insane it is that films with extreme violence and less sex are given lower ratings than films with moderate to heavy sexual content. To quote John Lennon: we live in a world where we have to hide to make love, while violence is practiced in broad daylight. And the MPAA perpetuates that. Sex is something to run from, to be terrified of, while violence is no problem. Kids are fed that idea from the time they're six years old and rush home from school to watch Squidward abuse Spongebob, right up through their teen years when they are "lame" if they don't play violent video games. Who, then, do those kids grow up into?

I don't blame violent video games. I don't blame violent TV. I don't blame action movies. I blame all of it. I blame the fact that our culture is, as I stated above, saturated with violence. And how does that happen? By feeding kids images of murder, gunfire, car chases, rape, massacre--from the time they're too little to know that what happens on TV isn't real, right up to the point when they're old enough to commit the acts displayed in their films, shows, and games.

Now, for those of you protesting, "They're too little, they don't know what it means," let me tell you a little story. When I was a baby--and I do mean baby, I was about fourteen months old--my aunt came to visit me and my parents. They ended up renting a movie called Delicatessen. For anyone unfamiliar with the plot of this film, here's the basic outline: in post-apocalyptic France, food is in short supply, so the landlord of an apartment runs a butcher's shop that deals in human meat. Now, let me remind you, I wasn't yet two years old. I hadn't even seen Beauty and the Beast yet; my cinematic experience was limited to Winnie the Pooh. So naturally, my mother had her reservations. She said the movie would scare me.

"No, don't worry," my dad and aunt reassured her over and over again. "She won't get it, she won't even be paying attention."

So, we all settled down to watch the movie. Right at the end of the opening credits, you hear the sound of a cleaver whacking--you can guess what that implies. And guess who freaked out? If you guessed the then-one-year-old Avery, you would be right. At the sound of the cleaver, I flipped out. My mom had to take me out of the room. She tells this story often, whenever I complain to her about my inability to stomach most horror movies (if you ever want to get me out of a room fast, turn on any of the Saw films and I will be gone before you can say "torture porn"). To this day, I'm bad with gore.

And you know what? Recently, a group of my friends were watching Delicatessen, and I sat down to watch just as the opening credits rolled. The film seemed vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. (I didn't know, at the time, that it was Delicatessen; I hadn't ever seen it--my only experience with that movie was my mother rushing me from the room after I flipped shit at the cleaver whack.) I think you can guess what happened: the second the cleaver sounded, I jumped. I didn't have the scream-and-cry reaction of a not-quite two-year-old, but I left the room shortly afterward (still without finding out the title of the film). Would that film scare me if I watched it all the way through? Having looked up the plot, I sincerely doubt it; I'd find it unsettling, but as a girl whose favorite film is A Clockwork Orange, I'm used to finding films pleasant and unsettling at the same time. But watching just those first few minutes, I felt uncomfortable. I had a bad memory--which I don't even really remember--associated with that movie.

Here's my point: The film that scared me as a child left an impact that still affects me now, over eighteen years later. Is that a coincidence? I don't think so.

And keep in mind, my media consumption was monitored heavily as a child. I was homeschooled until age fifteen, and one of my most prominent classes was Media Literacy 101. I was taught about advertising and marketing schemes from a young age, and quickly learned not to trust commercials. TV was limited to programs that my mother knew would enhance, not smother, my ability to think for myself. My friends listened to Britney and Christina and N-Sync when they were six years old. My first exposure to mainstream pop music was Avril Lavigne at age nine; until then I was raised on Springsteen and Meat Loaf and Todd Rundgren--listen to their lyrics if you don't understand why this was significant. Instead of Spongebob or Rugrats, I watched Full House and Family Matters. My Disney exposure was limited to the films with minimal violence (Winnie the Pooh, Cinderella and, with a bit of fast-forwarding, Beauty and the Beast).

Contrast that with TV these days. Little kids watch shows like Spongebob, full of cartoon violence and adult-oriented insults. "Let me show you guys how much I HATE YOU!" is one of the more G-rated insults that Squidward slings at his neighbors. Characters are squashed flat, burned to charcoal, stabbed with kitchen utensils, punched out by their supposed friends, tricked into evil schemes by the show's villain. As a child, I couldn't have watched this; it took me forever to feel comfortable watching Arthur because I was initially afraid of Mr. Ratburn. Not to mention much of the humor would have gone way over my head--most of the jokes woven in are aimed at adults.

What does this have to do with the MPAA? I'm getting there. Here's the thing: our media works in a feedback loop. I posted about this a few months ago on my old blog. The media will sell us a stereotype (the example used in the documentary Merchants of Cool, which was the spark that inspired that post, was Britney Spears), and then we try to emulate whatever they've sold us, because we see it as "cool." They watch us, trying to figure us out, trying to find new things to sell us, and when they see us doing what they've shown us how to do, they simply re-sell it as the newest thing. Look back at our media stereotypes for girls: in 2001, it was Britney Spears. In 2005, it was Lindsay Lohan. In 2011, it's Ke$ha. It's the same person re-packaged over and over again as a symbol of what the media calls "feminine empowerment."

So, with that in mind, think about what happens when violence is allowed to slide, but sex is covered with a seal of censorship. We send the message that sex is forbidden, something we should never explore and certainly something we don't need to know about, while violence is totally okay. It's completely fine to beat the crap out of someone, but if you find yourself thinking about kissing them--watch out!

TL;DR version: The MPAA is telling us, as simply phrased as possible, that violent behavior is more accepable than love.

And that is not okay with me.

I don't know what I'm going to do about this. But I'm going to change it. Somehow.

Wish me luck. I'll keep you posted.

What happens at arts camp...

...ends up on the internet. ;)
Well, really. I couldn't spend the entire summer at Interlochen and NOT collect at least a little Stolen Dialogue, could I?

Here's the thing. Yes, this blog is definitely more mature than my old one. And come on, you had to expect that. I'm almost twenty years old, and I started AWT when I was still in high school. I've gotten older, my writing has matured, and I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't changed a lot.

But one thing that will never change is my love for stealing the dorky things that come out of people's mouths. Even before my first real film teacher taught me about the concept of stolen dialogue, I was stealing dialogue left and right. (Someday I'll probably do a special tribute to the stolen dialogue I collected at my public high school--trust me, it's worth reading.) And if there's one belief of mine that has held firm, it's that the world can always use something to smile at--even after (ESPECIALLY after) tragedies like the one I wrote about in my last post.

So here we go. Stolen Dialogue, fresh from Interlochen. Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Get off my salad, bro!"

"This camp is going to turn me into a vegetarian."

"I look like I was swallowed by a skirt!"

"Shoes are just so not worth it."

"God knows you're going to be seeing a lot of my ass this week, Avery. I hope you don't have a problem with that."

"This sleeping bag makes me feel like a hot pocket."

"There are more counselors here than students!"

"I never called you 'Mack!' I mean, I COULD, but then I'd think of you as a truck!"

"How did she put it?...She said he was on a 'federal list of creepiness.'"

"So, I just broke into my cabin with a reed knife..."

"Hil, you have a chip on your boob."
"Is that any different from having a chip on your shoulder?"

"Wow...President Snow has a lot of balls if he's trying to regulate feminine products."

"I want to tell you in the most platonic way possible that I want your pants."

"This burger is delicious."
"I put a lot of love into it."
"I taste your love."

"I can belch from here to China."
"You're so classy."

"We were talking about sin, cardinal sin...you know, all the good stuff."

"I don't usually defecate from the rafters of my cabin, if that's what you're talking about."

"What's funnier than a trombone player trying to play trumpet calls? Him showing off and playing them FASTER!"

"You could wake me up at 3 A.M. and say, 'Liz, I had this horrible nightmare that I didn't know what to do on office duty!' and I'll be like, 'You're on crack. Here's the answer.'"

"You should tell your girls that midnight rovers will check your doors because they'll hear it and freak out."
"Tell them it's a ghost."
"Tell them that's why they need to stay in bed."
"It's the Ghost of Showers Past..."

"I mean, you can't just go up to a girl and say, 'Hey, so I was checking out your butt, and it's kind of hanging out...'"
"I wouldn't address it that way."

"Me and that deliveryman got super-tight this weekend, and he is an awkward turtle."

"Find me a good-looking Asian Jew!"

"I have a duck, and I'm not afraid to use it!"
"I HAVE A DUCK TOO!...I don't know where it is, but it lights up!"