15 March 2016
BEST SHOT: ATONEMENT
I am, sadly, too late to properly play along with this week's Hit Me with Your Best Shot, but I figured it couldn't hurt to throw an entry out there just for fun. Particularly coming hot on the heels of a maddeningly long posting drought, for which I do apologise, dear readers, and I'll try to come back with some actual reviews sooner rather than later.
In the meanwhile, though, let's attend to the matter at hand: the 2007 film Atonement, a polished and posh Best Picture nominee that I've really not thought about much in the last eight years, but I remember only vaguely liking. Turns out I still do - director Joe Wright entire filmography, I think, is haunted by an overly-stuffy, overly-bookish approach to telling stories; he makes enormously literate films at the expense, sometimes, of making living, breathing cinematic films. And this tendency is at its most present and draining in Atonement.
That being said, the film looks gorgeous in every last detail, including what could be rationally defended as the single most perfect piece of movie costuming of the 2010s, the green dress that Jacqueline Durran designed for Keira Knightley to wear during the most epochal and dramatic stretch of scenes in the film. It was a fair bet that the dress would end up at the center of whatever image I picked as my favorite shot, irrespective of any other consideration, and low and behold
There's more going on here than just the dress of course - much more. This was one of the handful of images I remembered more or less perfectly from my first and only prior viewing of the film in the fall of 2007, in part because of how much it packs in. It's a key moment in the narrative, to start with: this is the point at which little Briony Tallis (Saoirse Ronan, in what remains one of the greatest child performances of recent vintage) starts to become aware of the emotional costs of her actions up to that point in the film. Having told a lie - perhaps innocently, perhaps because she'd had all kinds of feelings of betrayal and sexual ardor stirred up that she didn't know what to do with, and lying gave her a way to tamp all of that down - Briony has set in motion the actions that separate her elder sister Cecilia (Knightley) from her lover Robbie (James McAvoy). In this moment, staring down from her bedroom, Briony has just seen Robbie taken away from the police, leaving Cecilia and her enormously long shadow alone in a solitary patch of light, surrounded by darkness. You couldn't do for a more effectively straightforward visual depiction of loneliness.
That's half of it, anyway. The other half is all in the framing. This is almost, but barely not quite, a direct POV shot from Briony's perspective; the only reason we know that it's not is because we can see the very indistinct shape of her head at the left side of the frame. And also that fuzzy stripe running more or less down the middle of the frame? That's part of Briony's window. In fact, three sides of the shot are boxed in by the view over Briony's shoulder (it's easier to see it in motion). And here we arrive at one of the key themes of Atonement, particularly in its first segment: voyeurism. This is very much a film about watching other people for emotional stimulation: most explicitly so in the sequence that finds Briony spying at Cecilia and Robbie having sex against a pair of bookshelves. But the sensation of looking permeates everything: Briony, an aspiring writer, is a character defined in terms of how she looks at things and how accurately or not she interprets them.
And we can take it even a little deeper than that: Atonement, I've mentioned, is a lusciously appointed film. It is, in no small part, about the pleasures we get, in the audience, from looking and watching and observing. That's what makes this scene and many others play in a nastily ironic way, though I hadn't thought about in those terms till later. Cecilia has been walloped emotionally, and we're watching her, getting aesthetic pleasure from seeing a fictional character suffering; we're getting a more direct sensory pleasure from the sharp colors of that green dress. Briony isn't the only semi-predatory voyeuristic POV that Atonement is aware of, and implicitly critiquing, as it turns out.
In the meanwhile, though, let's attend to the matter at hand: the 2007 film Atonement, a polished and posh Best Picture nominee that I've really not thought about much in the last eight years, but I remember only vaguely liking. Turns out I still do - director Joe Wright entire filmography, I think, is haunted by an overly-stuffy, overly-bookish approach to telling stories; he makes enormously literate films at the expense, sometimes, of making living, breathing cinematic films. And this tendency is at its most present and draining in Atonement.
That being said, the film looks gorgeous in every last detail, including what could be rationally defended as the single most perfect piece of movie costuming of the 2010s, the green dress that Jacqueline Durran designed for Keira Knightley to wear during the most epochal and dramatic stretch of scenes in the film. It was a fair bet that the dress would end up at the center of whatever image I picked as my favorite shot, irrespective of any other consideration, and low and behold
There's more going on here than just the dress of course - much more. This was one of the handful of images I remembered more or less perfectly from my first and only prior viewing of the film in the fall of 2007, in part because of how much it packs in. It's a key moment in the narrative, to start with: this is the point at which little Briony Tallis (Saoirse Ronan, in what remains one of the greatest child performances of recent vintage) starts to become aware of the emotional costs of her actions up to that point in the film. Having told a lie - perhaps innocently, perhaps because she'd had all kinds of feelings of betrayal and sexual ardor stirred up that she didn't know what to do with, and lying gave her a way to tamp all of that down - Briony has set in motion the actions that separate her elder sister Cecilia (Knightley) from her lover Robbie (James McAvoy). In this moment, staring down from her bedroom, Briony has just seen Robbie taken away from the police, leaving Cecilia and her enormously long shadow alone in a solitary patch of light, surrounded by darkness. You couldn't do for a more effectively straightforward visual depiction of loneliness.
That's half of it, anyway. The other half is all in the framing. This is almost, but barely not quite, a direct POV shot from Briony's perspective; the only reason we know that it's not is because we can see the very indistinct shape of her head at the left side of the frame. And also that fuzzy stripe running more or less down the middle of the frame? That's part of Briony's window. In fact, three sides of the shot are boxed in by the view over Briony's shoulder (it's easier to see it in motion). And here we arrive at one of the key themes of Atonement, particularly in its first segment: voyeurism. This is very much a film about watching other people for emotional stimulation: most explicitly so in the sequence that finds Briony spying at Cecilia and Robbie having sex against a pair of bookshelves. But the sensation of looking permeates everything: Briony, an aspiring writer, is a character defined in terms of how she looks at things and how accurately or not she interprets them.
And we can take it even a little deeper than that: Atonement, I've mentioned, is a lusciously appointed film. It is, in no small part, about the pleasures we get, in the audience, from looking and watching and observing. That's what makes this scene and many others play in a nastily ironic way, though I hadn't thought about in those terms till later. Cecilia has been walloped emotionally, and we're watching her, getting aesthetic pleasure from seeing a fictional character suffering; we're getting a more direct sensory pleasure from the sharp colors of that green dress. Briony isn't the only semi-predatory voyeuristic POV that Atonement is aware of, and implicitly critiquing, as it turns out.
9 comments:
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brilliant as usual even if you feel it's a tossed off entry!
ReplyDeletei'm really intrigued by the wide variety of feelings people have about this movie. I think it's very very good. but i'm not sure what you mean by overly literary when his work is so visually stylized.
First thought: "That is an incredibly boring shot."
ReplyDelete*reads long piece about the vibrant green greenness of the dress*
I'm red-green colourblind. :'(
That last paragraph is kind of brilliant, especially when applied to Vanessa Redgrave's devastating scene at the end of the film.
ReplyDeleteAnd to your point about Wright making literate films sometimes at the expense of making cinematic ones, I think that feeling is most prevalent here because the conceit of the source material indeed is so decidedly literary. Wright and screenwriter Christopher Hampton hit on basically the only way possible to translate it to film, but it practically necessitates a remove from the material, which Seamus McGarvey is only occasionally able to overcome.
I'm curently two-thirds through Ian McEwan's book. What's a shame about Joe Wright's film is that, yes the ending has stayed with me all these years, but with its indulgent tracking shot in Dunkirk, the scene where Robbie touches the cinema screen, etc., etc. is it almost perverts the central theme. McEwan's book is about constantly wrestling with a love/hate relationship over both the power and the compromises of storytelling, whereas Wright's film is an unadulterated love letter to it.
ReplyDeleteI take the point that translating the act of writing is among the toughest trials for filmmakers... but then don't choose to adapt Atonement! That said from what I have read so far the war sequences in both the film and the book are still the least interesting portion. (And FWIW, I still think Romola Garai was fanatstic and overlooked.)
As far as "literate but not cinematic" goes, I cannot improve on the HMWYBS article at Movie Motorbreath: "Wright is a fine stylist, but not to the degree that it actually enhances or compliments the stories he tells... I feel I didn’t get anything out a visual adaptation of McEwan’s novel that I didn’t already get from reading the book."
ReplyDeleteAnd the ending, in particular, is so pointedly the ending to a novel, not of a movie. I haven't read it, but I have to imagine that arriving at that final sequence unawares must be a gutting moment of metafiction at its most potent. Putting that ending in a movie simply cannot function that way under any circumstances.
Incidentally, the Dunkirk tracking shot annoys the hell out of me, as the gesture of a filmmaker more eager to address questions of "can I do this?" than "why should I do this?"
That being said, I'm still a Fresh 6/10 on this one. The three faces of Briony are all terrific, it's got some of the best costumes this side of forever, and the eros is surprisingly erotic for a prestige season literary adaptation.
ReplyDeleteLastly, I was curious, so I ran the image through a colorblindness simulator, and it looks like absolute shit. An important lesson.
ReplyDeleteIn the novel (SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT), after the scene where Briony promises Cecilia and Robbie she will set things right, the page ends with a signed "B.T." and a date. Which is a little confusing, but also gutting, especially when you start reading the "Postscript", which is basically the last scene of the film, except written by Briony like an author's note. It is a total wallop. It's also less definitive about the "real life" ends of Cecilia and Robbie, which is even more gutting than what we see in the film. I don't see why anyone would read the novel all the way through and decide, "This needs to be a film", except to undertake a massive challenge of adaptation. In which case, A for effort, but not for execution. As I said in my Best Short article, the film worked better for me this time around than the first time I saw it (when I liked it but it left me a little cold), but the ending doesn't quite work, and the extent to which it does is solely due to Vanessa Redgrave.
ReplyDeleteUGH this post reminded me of how much I hate the much-lauded Steadicam shot in the middle of the film that tromps through the war scene and then peters out awkwardly when someone (I seem to recall it being McAvoy) enters a building, a shot which has absolutely no place in the whole damn film. UGH.
ReplyDelete