Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Dark City as Film Noir


Dark City as Film Noir



 Dark City shifts our focus from aliens (the characters) and the film’s narrative to its setting—all because the Strangers’ study of humanity occurs in a 1940s noir city rather than a site contemporary to the film’s date of production. This noir setting is meticulously staged, from the interior and exterior mise-en-scene with its low-key lighting and stereotypical noir figures like the detective, the femme fatale and the hero/victim to the low angle deep focus camera shots so prevalent in film noir since Citizen Kane(1941). All these noir elements of the mise-en-scene are contrasted with the Strangers themselves and their habitat—shot, lit and staged in horror style—and with the Shell Beach scene Murdoch creates, complicating views of constructed versus natural space, as well as genre. As in film noir, the most prominent characters in Dark City reflect a nearly hopeless world: the displaced hero/victim, the femme fatale, the detective.



It is style, however, that sets film noir apart from earlier detective films. Stylistically, the film acts as homage to noir. Shooting styles draw on those perfected in Citizen Kane, which Andrew Sarris sees as one of the first and most influential noirs, calling it one of the “two-pronged noir breakthrough[s]” (104). Low-key lighting, extreme camera angles, deep focus, wide-angle lenses, and depth of field are all drawn from Kane and the later noir films it inspired. The arched rooms and hallways shot from low angle camera positions recall Gregg Toland’s cinematography in Citizen Kane’s varied locations. And the figures, buildings and interior props—all precisely replicating a 1940s milieu—are dramatically illuminated to maximize cast and attached shadows, including those figures shot in silhouette. Noirs are shot mostly at night in a decaying—and wet—urban milieu. Many scenes are shot from low angle camera positions to further set the mood with wide-angle lenses that increase depth of field. Many of these techniques are drawn from German Expressionism, emphasizing the chaotic world in which trapped characters seek meaning. Dark City’s city setting fulfills all aspects of this description of film noir.



The city duplicates the 1940s urban noir atmosphere with its dank, dark and decrepit streets and buildings and sleazy interior hotel rooms and night clubs. Noir figures abound in this dark city, beginning with John Murdoch, the mentally displaced hero/victim in search of salvation and self-realization. Women figures, too, take on the noir roles of either torch singing femme fatales like Emma (Jennifer Connelly) and prostitutes like May (Melissa George) or virtuous virgins like Anna (also Jennifer Connelly), even though the female roles are so flattened in this constructed space that they look almost sexless. As in many noir films, a police detective, Inspector Bumstead (William Hurt), serves first as Murdoch’s (the hero’s) pursuer, and then as a source of his salvation. And even Dr. Schreber’s character aligns with the corrupt doctors of noir who drug heroes like Phillip Marlowe (Dick Powell) in Murder, My Sweet (1944).



Sound, too, in this cityscape, brings to mind noirs like Fury (1936), Kiss of Death(1947), Out of the Past (1947), They Live By Night (1948), and Gun Crazy (1949). Characters’ speech patterns follow those of noir figures, since their reactions to horrific events are almost emotionless. Nightclub music, too, harks back to 1940s and early ‘50s jazz. Background effects sound hollow and muted, as if heard through penetrating thick fogs and continuous rains.



Dark City’s cityscape and the narrative surrounding it most resemble that of films
 like On Dangerous Ground (1952), a Nicholas Ray film in which Jim Wilson (Robert Ryan) finds solace in the rural hills, away from the decaying noir urban setting he escapes. Because Wilson, a hardboiled police detective, has become embittered by his dealings with the heartless criminals of the urban underworld, he begins beating his suspects and is sent away from the city to the “country” to pursue a young girl’s killer and curb his violence. In this idyllic pastoral setting, Wilson gains self-awareness, with the help of Mary (Ida Lupino), the murderer’s blind sister, and frees himself of his own rage. Urban shots in the film maintain Wilson’s cynicism and desperation, but gradually, as his view of the world changes, rural shots brighten, suggesting that Wilson’s own blindness about himself has lifted.



     The earliest views of John Murdoch in Dark City set him up as a lost noir hero/victim in search of himself, a character-type who recalls Jim Wilson. He wakes up in a seedy hotel room, parallel to noir openings in which heroes awaken from drunken stupors and wonder, what happened to me? The interior landscape he views reinforces this noir mise-en-scene that includes noir costuming and interior setting, including his 1940s overcoat and the beat-up interior of his hotel room. An arch dominates the scene, another noir motif repeated in the film, especially in the many low angle shots of hallways lit from the side as in films like Crossfire (1947) and T-Men(1947).



Camera shots of Dr. Schreber in the phone booth, too, highlight the noir style with its depth and shadow detail. Here lights go on and off for even more dramatic effect. And in Schreber’s office, too, lighting and camera angles enforce strong silhouettes. The police station where the Inspector and Emma discuss Murdoch’s case also draws on the noir style, this time because hot lights are always in full view, never blocked by the figures, for a forced perspective of frames within frames shot from extreme low angles. This meticulous set design continues even in shots of the prostitute May’s seedy apartment where we see beaded curtains casting moving shadows and, in earlier shots, May’s lined stockings casting shadows that look like bars. All these scenes, even though shot in color, simulate the black and white of noir by finding patterns of dark and muted color that amplify the noir mood.



But like Jim Wilson, John Murdoch seeks to escape the decay of the city and the empty seediness of his role there. Like many characters in film noir, Murdoch feels trapped by forces beyond his control, in this case literally trapped by the city the Strangers have constructed to study him and the other captured humans. And like Jim Wilson, Murdoch seeks solace in a non-urban setting, the Shell Beach depicted on the post card he finds in his suitcase. Devoid of memories and, it seems, of a sense of self, Murdoch, like Wilson, frantically battles the city and its makers while searching for salvation outside the city and its underworld. As in On Dangerous Ground, a virtuous woman contributes to the salvation Murdoch eventually gains, but unlike Wilson, Murdoch must create the “natural” ecosystem that eventually saves him and the rest of the city’s inhabitants, a change that puts the eco-edge on this multi-genre film.     



The battle Murdoch does eventually win, however, forces him into another ecosystem that proves unsuccessful, the underworld of the Strangers that draws on the visual motifs of the horror genre. In this realm, faces are lit from below and colors of the lighting change from browns and yellows to ghastly blues and greens, and other darker tones, exaggerating the whiteness of the all-male Strangers’ faces. This underworld, with its assembly lines and baroque torture chamber wheels out of a Frankenstein lab, draws on both German Expressionist films like Nosferatu (1922) and Metropolis (1927) and Hollywood’s Frankenstein, (1931) and Bride of Frankenstein (1935).  Science fiction plays a role in this realm, as well, since the Strangers act like the parasites depicted in films like The Hidden and control humans through the technology of their machines and their memory-filled syringes, but the underworld still looks like a horror film, perhaps as a way to highlight the Strangers’ alien presence. Yet both the noir and horror settings prove to be ecological nightmares for the Strangers seeking rejuvenation through their human studies.


Monday, December 23, 2013

Eco-Doc Poetry




the simple pleasure of existence


two men hunt insects
pulling beetles from a knothole


dragonflies:
strength
courage
bravery

fireflies:
unrequited love


we learn from insects


their numbers are much fewer now

one stamps a tree trunk

crickets with weak wings cannot cry





Zoo Dreams
Nenette,
Red-haired
Forty years old
captured in Borneo
peers outward
bored.

“If she dies, we’ll miss her.”

Nenette
makes faces
in breath steam.
Distant voices
fight
against layoffs.

Nenette
lives
in the “now,”
“drained of curiosity.”
a captive
behind glass.




Reel Indian

If you owned hell
and Arizona,
you’d live in hell
and rent out Arizona.

To you
this is bad land
rock
scrub
desert
a hard land
The sun has sucked out all the good.
You can’t farm it
You can’t carve it out
so you damn it to hell.

To him it’s almost human
a living active thing.
a good place to make his fight.



eco-horror poems




Big Bugs on a Small Screen

A scurrying worker
screams
blood splatters
a cigarette
burns.

“That’s one big ant.”

countdown
“to absolute
termination”
bio-hazard barrels
roll 




To a Cockroach  

Who are you, little one?

A god?
Shameful?

Unwilling to die
when your time has come?

Who says insects
aren’t favored?

Christ walked on water 
just like a mosquito.




Dracula’s Ecology

We need to sleep
in native soil

hallowed earth
placed in wooden boxes

but then hardly a foot
of dirt
has not been enriched
by blood

men and women
torn from their land

eco-trauma

The dilemma of a vampire.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Omega Man and the Power of "Family"




In Omega Man, binaries between human and nonhuman nature point to a merging of memories of nature and culture, especially from the perspective of Dutch’s family and its escape to the “wilderness.” Based loosely on Richard Matheson’s novel, I am Legend, Omega Manupdates the 1964 film version The Last Man on Earth and replaces vampires with plague-ridden followers of Matthias (Anthony Zerba). Omega Man also includes a prophetic “Christ-like” hero that is missing in Last Man on Earth. Robert Neville’s blood becomes a serum for the plague because he has injected himself with an effective vaccine he—as a scientist—has created. In The Last Man on Earth, Vincent Price (the hero) becomes immune to the vampire disease only because he, by accident, had been bitten by a vampire bat. Omega Man is definitely a product of the early 1970s and its environmental politics, since it asserts that humans’ destruction may come as the result of a devastating biological war. But it also embraces the hope an extended family like that depicted in Woodstock might provide.



Much of Omega Man is set in the city—Los Angeles in 1977, two years after the Earth’s population was annihilated by germ warfare. The calm atmosphere is shattered, first by gunfire and then by a crash as the driver runs his red convertible Ford into a fence to avoid a barrier in the road. The driver, Colonel Robert Neville (Charlton Heston), looks back with nostalgia on a world before war and before the plague had destroyed most of the Earth’s population. His memories seem so real that he almost believes he hears phones ringing on the street.



            Memories continue with Neville’s re-viewing of the movie Woodstock (1970), “held over for a third straight year.” The clip from the film we see shows both the community Neville recalls and reenacts in the dealership and the peacefulness with which the film begins. During an interview, one of the Woodstock participants states the goals of the 1969 event—“Just to really live together and be happy.” With such a world, people won’t “be afraid to walk out in the streets” is the claim. This brief scene from Woodstock, though, sets up several ways in which nostalgia is treated in Omega Man. The film Woodstockillustrates memories of family, friendship and other social connections, as well as a more natural and pristine world. It also shows what is constructed as a better “family” than that of Matthias and a less destructive response to industry and technology run amok (even before the last global war).



            Neville, though, sees Woodstockas a way to capture memories of movie-going itself: “They sure don’t make pictures like that anymore,” he quips. And when he finally gets into his apartment (through another blockade of black-hooded assailants) Neville’s connection to technology and culture is reinforced. A generator provides electricity for the lights, appliances, and music—as well as for the surveillance cameras hooked into his big-screen television. Art fills the big living room, and a chess game is in motion on his table—between himself and a statue of a general. This glimpse of Neville’s apartment is followed by shots of another form of nostalgia—this time for a world free of technology that is gained through violence and fire.



            Matthias, former news anchor, leads what he calls The Family in their quest to cleanse the world of technology because he blames it for the plague they carry. A flashback shows Matthias’s reactions as a news anchor during wartime: “Is this the end of technological man? ….The age of the wheel? We were warned of judgment…..Well, here it is now,” he proclaims. Matthias’s attitudes have grown with his disease, so he rejects even weapons from the armory to fight Neville, the last human in the city who is untouched by the plague. Matthias and his family burn all remnants of culture—books, art—and try to kill Neville because he is seen as evil, but only with homemade weapons like catapults and spears.



Matthias and his family look back nostalgically on a world they never knew—before even the industrial revolution of the nineteenth century. Neville, the scientist and art lover, diametrically opposes Matthias’s mission. That opposition becomes most clear during Neville’s “trial” after he is captured by The Family. Since he represents science, medicine, weapons and machinery—and has killed off members of The Family—Matthias finds Neville guilty of evil, so he is sentenced to suffer a sixteenth century death by fire.



Neville escapes when a different “family” lights of the stadium, however, introducing the third reaction to the global war—Dutch (Paul Koslo), Lisa (Rosalind Cash), and a “family” of children unharmed by the plague and living off the land away from the city, Neville, and Matthias. Dutch and his family provide an alternative response to plague—and embrace a different kind of memory, a nostalgia for a community much more like that depicted in Woodstock. Matthias wishes to destroy all remnants of the “new” world, including Neville. Neville wants to preserve what’s left of it in his urban apartment—with paintings on the walls, books on shelves, technology running it all, and science in his working laboratory, but he wants all of Matthias’s family members dead.



Dutch and his family, on the other hand, left the city to escape both Matthias and Neville—and their violent methods. Neville sees their countryside home when Dutch and Lisa free him from Matthias. In this pastoral setting, Neville also is introduced to humans who are resistant to the plague. The group has returned to a natural world outside the city and includes children scampering in from hilltop gun emplacements. Dutch and his family are far removed from both Neville, who is tied to the city as an exterminator, and Matthias, whose sole goal is the erasure of the past by a fire he claims will purify it.



Yet two of Dutch’s group connect with both Neville and Matthias—Lisa and Richie (Eric Laneuville). Richie is saved by Neville’s blood, which acts as a kind of serum. Because he’s now plague-free, Richie offers his blood serum to Matthias and The Family. Although Neville willingly saves Richie, he does not want him to help Matthias. And Matthias not only rejects Richie’s offer; he kills him because he, like Neville, is not one of the “chosen” (the plague victims). Neville does die (and seemingly on a cross), but not before passing on a jar of serum to Dutch to save Lisa and the rest of Dutch’s family. Dutch takes Neville’s place, too, since he went to medical school before the war and now protects Neville’s blood serum, this time not as a tragic eco-hero but as one attached to a more interdependent communal view of both humans and the natural world.



            Matthias and what’s left of The Family remain, but are glued to the city they wish to purify. Matthias’s apocalyptic message resounds for himself and his family, but not for Dutch and his, since they have hope. Despite its post-apocalyptic tone, Omega Man shows a positive future. In a jeep that carries himself, Lisa, and the remaining children, Dutch drives away from the city and the plague, into a green wilderness where Neville’s serum can cure them all. The film not only warns of the dangers of germ warfare; it demonstrates its consequences, offering the only viable solution—an interconnected family.