Being such a visual medium, it often surprises me how rare it is to come across a movie scene that dispenses with dialogue and instead leans on visuals (and soundtrack) to tell the story, often with more impact than any amount of character blabbing could ever achieve.
Been a while. Bike accidents, vacations, life, etc.
Anyway, went to see Apocalypse Now (1979) the other day at Chicago’s Navy Pier IMAX, which, unlike the local multiplex version of the format (snarkily referred to as “LieMax”), happens to be the real deal (60’H x 86’W
I know, I know—it’s been forever since I last posted. Seven months, actually, an absence no doubt weighing heavily on my vast¹ and vocal² readership. (¹ Thirty-eight; ² Zero comments)
But for those of you keeping vigil in my front yard, it’s time to pack up the tents, scrape the candle wax off my sidewalk, head home to your parents’ basement to once again fire up those computers. Because I just watched a favorite scene from Mission: Impossible Rogue Nation for about the 20th time and feel the need to talk about it.
So, you survived Part 1 and, masochist you are, you’re back for even more. Impressive…most impressive.
As you’ll recall, previously we covered in very broad strokes the history of motion picture sound technology. Now let’s take a look at the artists responsible for creating the soundtracks performed via those ever-improving audio technologies. Known within the film industry as “sound designers,” they are
With the exception of a couple of experimental shorts using a process called “Phono-Cinéma-Théâtre” presented at the 1900 Paris Exhibition and, of course, the live piano/organ accompaniment prevalent in the silent era (which doesn’t really count), cinema was purely a visual medium for the first 37 years of its existence.
The Public Eye (1992, dir. Howard Franklin)Anyone who’s ever flipped through a Life magazine photo retrospective while sitting in a doctor’s waiting room most certainly has seen the work of Arthur Fellig, a photographer better known to the world by his nickname, Weegee.
It’s funny to think that something as inconsequential as one’s middle name could impact the probability of one’s genius, but it seems that that is exactly the case when it comes to the art of movie direction.
Take, for instance, George T. Miller, the Australian behind The Man from Snowy River (1982) and The NeverEnding Story II: The Next Chapter (1990).
Back in 2004, director Steven Spielberg decided the time was ripe to remake the granddaddy of all hostile alien narratives, H.G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds, the 1898 serialized novel telling the story of a Martian invasion as seen through the eyes of an unnamed narrator based in Surrey and his younger brother, based in London. This would be quite a departure for