Sunday, February 22, 2015

The Breakfast Club

“You see us as you want to see us... in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Correct? That's how we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed.”

This week, I’ve decided to take a break from code breaking and time crunches to explore John Hughes’ 1985 coming-to-age film The Breakfast Club. Needless to say, I finally understand the years and years of, “You haven’t seen The Breakfast Club?!” This film successfully blended elements of both comedy and drama while maintaining a level of depth and relativity that remains applicable to the typical youngster after all these years. Hughes’ ability to employ key cinematic and dramatic elements to further the characterization and relationships in the film is critical – taking teenage angst and transforming it into a timeless classic.

I always love analyzing the beginning of any film, as the opening of the film is often significant in relaying subtle hints that expose what the film plans to explore. The film begins with an almost ‘funky’ sound, if you will. Simple Minds’ stone classic “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” embodies the mid-eighties teenage generation, and stirs up a feeling of excitement and curiosity. More importantly, auditory elements are integral to the opening of the film as we hear Brian’s voice over narration speaking to the principal. He describes himself as a “brain” and goes on to describe the others around him as an “athlete,” a “basket case,” a “princess,” and a “criminal.” While he communicates ideas of stereotypes to the audience, visual elements are also at play. The camera features an establishing shot that runs through a series of shots, shown cut after cut, setting the scene of the whole film. The colors and vibrancy of yearbooks, stages, lockers, and classrooms kindle a sense of familiarity and amusement within the viewer. In one sweep, the film introduces (but really, reintroduces) the glory, fear, and craziness almost any individual can relate to. High school.

If I had to pinpoint the most important component of this film, I would definitely have to underscore the characterization and development in relationships that is so fundamental in understanding the deeper layers of this film. Every one of the five stereotypical characters are necessary in balancing out the others, and the interactions between the characters evidentially prove that. The film uses a variety of cinematic elements that help introduce the characters, and through these introductions we are later able to study the transformations the characters undergo.

So let’s discuss. Most prominent is John Bender (the “criminal”). Claire Standish (the “princess). Andy Clark (the “athlete”). Brian Johnson (the “brain”). And finally, Allison Reynolds (the “basket case”). As soon as the five teenagers are placed in the library together , we are able to connect them with the appropriate stereotype immediately because of how they are characterized. The camera angled at eye level, which not only gives us the ability to see everything that is occurring, but also helps us feels as if we are right there with the teenagers. We feel as if we are a part of the conversation. The director spends the majority of the film using both dramatic and cinematic elements to emphasize how perfectly these characters match their intended stereotypes.

Right away, we notice Bender, who fits the perfect “criminal” stereotype. His attempts to make the others feel uncomfortable characterize this stereotype, and the camera makes it a point to cut through close-ups of both Claire and Andy’s face in order to highlight the discomfort and anger they feel as a result of Bender’s rude humor. More interesting, the camera makes it a point to get multiple long shots of Bender in order to highlight the type of clothes and shoes he is wearing – the typical “bad boy” sort of look.

Claire’s pristine sense of self and need to be proper is characterized by her refusal to let Bender faze her – specifically when he is mocking her for how “pristine” she is. The camera engages in a series of eye-line matches to show reaction shots taking place in between Claire and Bender. When the camera cuts to Claire, there is a close-up to her face and we notice the discomfort she feels as her eyes keep straying away from Bender’s eyes. By noticing the way the camera moves around Claire, and her acting itself we are able to characterize her.

       For the majority of the film, Andy is the typical “athlete” we encounter in high school. He is ultimately defined by his Letterman jacket and his attempts to stand up to Bender’s attempts to make Claire uncomfortable. When Andy and Bender stand facing each other, we see medium shots of them, but the height difference is clearly noticeable (Bender is taller than Andy). Abruptly, Andy pulls a wrestling move on Bender and the camera tilts down and we see Andy in the dominant position. The camera movement shots and movements are critical in showing Andy’s internal need to use his athletic ability to show dominance over others.

Brian is the “brain” – the boy that is most usually supposed to be seen as a dorky, nerdy, blubbering genius that lacks all sense of social intelligence. The director does a fantastic job of emphasizing Brian’s stereotype by making sure there is no non-diegetic music (which often accompanies the background of other character’s conversation) when Brian speaks. This makes Brian’s stutter more obvious. Furthermore, the camera often cross-cuts over to Brian in order to illustrate his attempts to add a sense of logical input to many of the arguments that take place.

Allison is characterized as the “basket case” by her ill-fitting and dark colored clothes as well as her peculiar sense of humor. When Claire is explaining the difficulty she faces with her parents, the camera cuts over to a close-up shot of Allison’s face, as we hear her laugh for the first time. The camera also makes it a point to cross-cut over to Allison’s face when Andy claims that Bender “may as well not even exist at this school.” This cross cut emphasizes how well Allison relates to the same ideas Bender is being accused of.

It’s so important to notice how meticulously the camera framing, angling, and movement takes place in order to secure these stereotypes when we compare the teenagers after they smoke the marijuana and bond, specifically in the scene all five of them sit in a circle and admit their problems to one another. The camera moves itself on a track, in a circular fashion, in dolly motion. And soon, we become as immersed into the conversations as the individuals are themselves. There is a complete change sound with the introduction of a poignant non-diegetic tune in the background. As Andy admits his reason for being in detention the camera pans through the individuals and zooms into each of their faces. The director makes it a point to give each of the faces a soft front lighting to emphasize the tears in each of the teenagers’ eyes. These tears emphasized how each of them were not so different from the other – the idea that Claire may have her own moments of being a basket case, both Andy and Brian suffer because of pressure from their parents, and how Bender and Allison often feel secluded in their own ways. These moments define the moments in which each of the characters realizes that they are much more similar than they are different.



After this scene, when all five are done with their detentions, they walk out as new people, both literally and metaphorically. The song “Don’t You (Forget About Me) plays in the background and gives the lyrics a whole new meaning. All of them leave in such contrasting states in comparison to when they first arrived – most importantly is the use of natural light to emphasize the new found peace all five have found with their identities and with each other.

And we close with,

“You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain…and an athlete…and a basket case… a princess…and a criminal.”

Sunday, February 8, 2015

The Imitation Game

“Are you paying attention? Good. If you're not listening carefully, you will miss things. Important things. I will not pause, I will not repeat myself, and you will not interrupt me.”


With lead actor Benedict Cumberbatch playing code-breaking mastermind Alan Turing, The Imitation Game is a touching tribute to an extraordinary man and his team. This film is, without a doubt, a rich piece that combines the suffering, heartbreak, and victory of war. The film is carefully crafted – as the literary development that takes place within the film is linked with a combination of both dramatic and cinematic elements. Blending these elements together allows the film to speak and break through to the audience on multiple levels.

The moment the film began, I was enraptured by the non-diegetic piano notes that planted a sensation of suspense and curiosity within me – before I even understood what was happening. Benedict Cumberbatch’s gravely deep voice provides us with voice-over narration through a series of cuts that pan over an amalgam of peculiar looking objects. At once, the film uses a combination of auditory elements and visual imagery to draw us into what is happening; I wanted to know what was going to happen next. The director’s choice of lighting and color throughout the introduction of the film is interesting; the shots take place with
low key lighting accompanied by neutral lighting shots sometimes (but even then, they are filtered to appear darker and more ominous). Color is rare, and surrounded by dull shades of blue, brown, grey, and black. This automatically told me that this film was not meant to be a happy victory; rather, that it would involve a complex plotline of mood changes and ethical dilemmas. Most noticeably, the introduction of the film was greatly representative of capturing the mood of the entire film: suspenseful, dramatic, dark, poignant.

There are so many aspects of this film that deserve recognition; it is hard to identify which few are worth mentioning in this review. So let me start with lead character Alan Turing (played by Benedict Cumberbatch) himself. What is it about his character that makes us root for him? How does the film make us empathize for an individual who begins by appearing so fixated on the logical that he forgets what is moral?  The director makes key decisions that are directly related to our relationship with Turing himself – we become a part of his story just as much, if not more, than Joan, Hugh, John, and Peter. This is primarily done through a series of flashbacks that take place throughout the film, instances in which we are able to access the areas of Turing’s mind that the others are unable to see.


Sometimes, these flashbacks are accompanied by Turing’s voice over narration, describing how he saw the world and what he learned from his observations. These flashbacks engage us through the simple use of camera angles, lighting, and sound. The flashbacks often feature a change in lighting and filter, indicating a time in which Turing had something he does not have now (we find that this ‘thing,’ is more a person (Christopher) as the film progresses). When Turing is trapped underneath the floorboards, he struggles for freedom in the dark (although there is some side lighting) and Christopher is able to remove the dark and literally and metaphorically bring light into his life. When young Turing reads Christopher’s letter, we view him from a low angle and full frontal lighting. These function to illustrate Turing’s newfound sense of empowerment and genuine happiness due to Christopher’s presence in his life. Thus, when we return from these flashbacks to his current state of life we cannot help but root for the socially awkward genius.

The film’s historical setting indicates that the Second World War is a huge part of defining the film. This is apparent through the multiple instances of cross-cutting that takes place between Alan’s personal interactions and those going on throughout the duration of the war. This cross-cutting serves to remind the audience that the war is still going, and that bloodshed is still occurring. But more importantly, this film focuses on Alan’s development through his relationships with people. This whole film is, in essence, Alan’s story (both literally and metaphorically). Alan’s most important human relationship is with Joan, played by Keira Knightly.
The bond is essential to the film.

This duo reminds us that love can form in the most unusual ways, even after everything has been taken away with you. Joan is the first character that Alan is enamored by, evident through the extra efforts made to get close-up shots of Alan’s face when he speaks to her. This is done primarily to emphasize how Alan is truly affected by Joan – she opens him up to his team (especially evident in the scene in which he brings them apples and attempts to tell a joke, had me laughing on the floor!). The film develops to show how Alan learns to becomes a family with his team, which was most clear the day that the individuals cracked ENIGMA. This scene focused on Turing amidst the action that was going on around him. The camera zoomed in on Alan’s face to show the vulnerability that was present – the emotional bond that we hadn’t been able to see before. This is underscored through the eye-line matches and reaction shots that take place between Turing and the other characters (specifically Hugh). This scene focalizes the scene into a subjective point of view – underscoring the idea that not only had Alan broken barriers by cracking the code, but he had also broken the barriers he had held up to separate himself from the rest of the world. The film does a great job of using cinematic elements to parallel both the plot’s development and Alan’s development.

Towards the end of the film, Turing undergoes a tragedy in which he is forced to take hormonal therapy in order to “cure” his “condition” (homosexuality). The ending is bittersweet, as Alan turns the light off after staring at ‘Christopher’ (the machine). His decision to turn the light off symbolizes that he no longer needs the machine, a mere tangible representation of Christopher, in his life because he has learned to accept and hold the best parts of Christopher within his heart. The most touching scene in this film is the last interaction between Alan and Joan, in which Joan tells Alan what he had told her when they first met: “Sometimes it’s the very people who no one imagines anything of who do the things no one can imagine.” A series of eye-line matches take place, and the camera focuses on casting light upon the tears that form on Alan’s face. 


This final exchange symbolizes the trickle of hope that remains in Turing’s life even after he feels completely lost. Although I later discovered that Alan Turing truly did end up committing suicide, I could not call it a tragedy.

We can call this film a lot of different things. A touching tale. A dramatic piece. A social commentary. Whatever it may be, I finish the film remembering the one quote that had me in tears by the end of the film:

“Sometimes it’s the very people who no one imagines anything of who do the things no one can imagine.”