This video showcasing the visual effects for Denis Villeneuve’s Sicario might not fall under the label of videographic essay in the traditional sense. The primary reason behind this assertion is that while the video does match the stylistic qualities of something like a supercut, it is produced by the company which did all the visual effects work for the film. This fact led me to consider and question the nature of authorship with regards to videographic essays. It is clear that when presented as academic works, videographic essays act as critiques and offer analysis for a larger cultural text (typically a film or T.V. show). Even when viewing “non-academic” videographic essays, this act of assertion regarding the source text is present. For example, even Kevin B. Lee’s “Buzzfeed” style videos (which were structured to maximize views on Facebook where content is auto-played and the viewer is more passive in their desire to consume content) made clear arguments or at least observations regarding a source text. Even in this style of videographic essay deemed to be the most mainstream and “entertainment” driven – they’re designed to maximize views after all – we still see at least a basic level of analysis or contemplation.

I am less certain if this video tries for the same degree of commentary. The company which created the video is the same company that created the visual effects that are on display. While I believe that this video does an excellent job of keying in the viewer to the major role VFX play in the film Sicario, I am less sure what argument or assertion is being made. The video largely functions as a showcase for VFX work done by Oblique FX. This aesthetic of a professional showcase is mirrored in the music that is paired with the VFX work. It can best be described as acoustic rock that is just a little too fast paced for the dentist’s office or elevator music. It is bland and inoffensive – which helps to build the underlying “corporate” tone of the video.

In this regard, I feel that the context of the video causes it to act as a portfolio or resume. If you ignore the fact that this video can be considered a primary text, and that it was made by the group who made what is being showcased, it plays the role of videographic essay perfectly. It not only shows the role which VFX played in Sicario, but it also allowed the viewer to infer how this dependence guided the methods of production for the entire film. Thus, the video’s classification as a piece of videographic criticism is up to debate. For this reason, I would argue that the effect of this video, and whether or not it should be considered videographic criticism is co-dependent upon the acknowledgement of its source on the part of the viewer.

Youtube user Like Stories of Old presents his video Creating The Ultimate Post-9/11 Allegory: The Dark Night on Risk and Terror as a way of suggesting a similarity between  Post-9/11 society and the society of The Dark Knight Rises. The video creates a structure through its use of texts to inform the viewer of the similarities between the way both societies handle risks and terror. Risk, in this sense, refers to the perceived terror a society may have towards the unknown. In the real world, this unknown terror refers to the idea of terrorists attacking the country again. As a means of preemptive protection, society assesses the risks of what could have caused such an event. In doing so a fallacy between risk and catastrophe occurs. The video underscores this fallacy, explaining how such an error does not take into consideration the actual process between risk and terror. The video refers to risk as the anticipation of a catastrophe. Even more, Gotham society further depicts a similar process of a perceived elevated terrorism in Post-9/11 society.

In order to create this parallel, the video constructs the soul of Gotham through the use of various cityscape shots. In doing so, the video wants the viewer to develop a familiarity with the environment. This creates a sense of spatial accessibility. This same structure parallels to the way that the video uses newsreels of 9/11 to depict the type of material that the media and the government use as a means of propagating a sense of elevated terrorism. These institutions use such videos to demonstrate the ultimate terror a society can experience if they do not let such institutions assess these risks. The various newsreels further create a parallel between the terror of Post-9/11 society and to The Joker’s reign of terror on Gotham.

Furthermore, the video focuses on constructing The Joker’s terror. Unlike any criminal The Batman has faced before, The Joker acts with full malicious intent. He does not search for any monetary benefit in terrorizing the city. Rather, he wants to instigate terror on the city to provoke The Batman. In this return, The Batman wants to end his terror. He will take all measures to ensure The Joker’s capture. Thus, he focuses his energy on tracking The Joker’s every move. In this sense, The Batman’s actions parallel the same way the U.S. government handles such perceived terror. Instead of relying on his own abilities, The Batman replaces his instincts and uses technology to spy on Gotham.

Continuing, the video juxtaposes The Batman’s ideology by introducing two other scholars as a means of guiding the viewer through this conflict. The video presents Prof. Ulrich Beck’s theory on modernity. He states that the success of modernity follows its consequences, the evil that has been suppressed. Therefore, in succeeding to eliminate the criminals in Batman Begins, The Dark Knight, then, follows the consequences of the utopian society that The Batman tries to create. The Joker realizes this same fallacy of modernity and uses it to show The Batman’s failure in wanting to create a perfect society. In this, The Joker’s spontaneity disrupts The Batman’s ability to trust his own instincts.

The video continues the juxtaposition of texts on the screen to the shots of chaos by presenting another point: the constant fear of terror forces those in power to assess the risks of catastrophe. Those in power will implement laws and systems that can ‘protect’ society from this perceived threat; however, the simple act of anticipation destroys that which protects the individual. This describes the same way that The Batman tries to take control of the city because he believes they cannot protect themselves from The Joker. At the same time, The Joker’s terror on the city elevates his status to that of a God or demon, an abstract concept that cannot be physically grounded. Thus, those in power—in this case, The Batman—implement their own rules and laws to ground this terror.

When The Batman loses his love interest, The Joker proves his point: in trying to protect the city and his love interest from such terror, The Batman could not realize that he could not play God. His omniscient ways proved him wrong because he focused on everything, yet he lost the only thing that he loved. The video echoes this same point by juxtaposing the scene in which Rachel dies to the ensuing chaos of Harvey Dent’s downfall. In this scenario, the desire to attain perfection through systematic control eventually destroys the individual’s right.

This video essay by Steven Benedict traces and juxtaposes favored tropes and motifs from the films of Ethan and Joel Coen. His stated purpose—that “the characters talk to one another across the films so we can more clearly hear the Coens’ dominant concerns”—is effectively realized, and without relying on voiceover he makes a lucid and surprisingly sophisticated argument.

As a work of film criticism, “Coen Country” economically weaves shots from just about every single Coen film (minus the not-yet-released Hail, Caesar!) together to demonstrate how the concerns of their characters overlap between stories. The three Coen fixations addressed here are identity, miscommunication, and morality. The repetition of related images and the sound of remarkably similar character dialogue shows both the almost universal relevance of these themes throughout the Coen’s catalogue. It also demonstrates that the Coen’s rely heavily on dialogue to present these motifs. Less talented writers might make the mistake of putting the subtext of what the characters say directly into a character’s mouth. This piece shows that the Coens are far too smart for that. It clarifies how they make a statement or convey and idea solely using miscommunication, awkwardness, and misunderstanding. Less flatteringly, it shows that the Coen’s put a big burden on their actors, as using miscommunication within a film to communicate a theme to that film’s audience is a substantial undertaking—and because the film then relies on their success or failure to work. Since the Coens have a remarkably good success rate, it contributes to the popular notion of the Coens as “actor’s directors” who make good use of good actors in good roles. Is it because they attract top talent? Because they have a keen eye for casting? Are they just good at directing actors? Perhaps it’s a combination of all these factors.

This short video essay is easy and fun to watch, but also prompts a lot of thought about the Coens’ catalogue. Part of how it achieves this dual effect is with rapid, energetic editing. It also makes great use of dialogue, by layering a voice from one film over the images of another. The characters sound like they’re in dialogue with each other, and the lines, down to the exact delivery, often sound as if they must surely be from the same scene—even though they aren’t. The dialogue Benedict uses is also just well put together. The “voiceover” moves organically from theme to theme, which encourages us to think about how these motifs fit together and reinforce each other. This really reveals the power of deciding against voiceover: by making a video more about experiencing an association of sound and images, Benedict makes it more interpretively dense.

In A Brief Look at Texting and the Internet in Film, Tony Zhou, just like what has been written in the title, approached the idea of the appearance and the representation of Text Messages (I will use the term SMS in my commentary) and of Internet in Film.  In my opinion, this is an interesting video essay which allows us to see SMS and Internet on movies in a different way, and at the same time, raise questions about the “right way” to represent those “modern invention” on screen.

In the specific “Tony Zhou” voice tone, he leads us through five minutes of video essay with full excitement and focus. The video begins with his computer screen, where we can see through the “procedure” of making, or opening, his video-essay: he opens his Itunes program to play the background music, then switches to the Final Cut Pro program to “officially” begins his essay. As soon as that program shows up, his famous salutation “Hi, my name is Tony…” also manifests. This beginning induces audience’s curiosity, makes the video more interesting and also focus audience’s attention. One very fascinating way to begins a video essay.

After that, he approaches the idea of the representation of SMS on movies, and even TV series. It is interesting how Tony uses various types of movies to demonstrate for his arguments: we have, in this essay, Japanese series, teen movies, thriller series, soap opera, South Korea movies. He reveals to us the differences in representing SMS in movies around 2005-ish and movies nowadays: if the old ones are more “ugly” (stick with “bubble texts”), demand a large amount of money and grasp too many screen time, the new ones are more elegant, modern and can even contribute to create “emotions” for the scene. He used lots of movie sources, and the way he focus on Sherlock Holmes and House of Cards (as two bias) also emphasizes those differences.

Then, he starts to talk about the appearance and the representation of Internet on screen. Tony Zhou also used a lot of movie sources to argue for his statement: despite the fact that there is multiple ways to represent SMS in movies, the film (and series) industry is still struggling with finding the best way to present Internet. he shows us various possibilities which are already used in American movies, series and also the Japanese ones. He also has his favorite one, which is “the desktop film”, and, once again, Sherlock Holmes the series. In the end, he states that this is still one problem that movie and series directors need to resolve. With his “fascinating” voice tone and the similar rhythm between scene-switching and phrases-changing, he keeps us going until the last minutes of his video essays.

This video graphic essay talks about the French film – La Haine. A film that takes place in France and looks at the lives of different minorities, Jewish, Black, and Arab. The film goes to look at the way our actions or non-actions have effects and our complacency to react to certain stimuli may end in either positive or negative outcome. The video talks about the unique experience and novel narrative structure this movie contains. One of the unique functions present in this movie is the manner in which the director took on a new way of passing time – the inclusion of a clock with a familiar sounding tick of a bomb made for a compelling addition to the film and served as an important motif to understanding the plot and conclusion of the film. The way in which the plot is put on its head with the distancing from the cause-effect plot lone to an effect-cause plotline.

A 14 min discussion of this movie is done longer than any other videographic film essays I have seen before. Voiceover dominates the essay and it is purely explanatory – focusing on the structure of the film. I wonder if longer video essays are inherently explanatory or if there are any experimental or poetic videos that span 10+min.  The video essay uses infographic and texts, however, this is only utilized once in the video. I feel the use of each respective element worked well and no other text/infographic was necessary. This video essay does a very good job of critically thinking about the film and the ways in which the director’s choices created a film with multiple stylistic layers. This videoessay – uses footage from other movies and makes comparisons to strengthen his arguments and to showcase the ways in which this film sets itself apart from others, while still using recognizable shots and styles. The video speaks about the plot, but the essay itself is not a reiteration of the plot, instead, it functions as an explanation of how the elements of the film affect the plot and the ways in which the overall narrative structure of this piece is unique and create a novel experience for the film viewer. This video essay – as a whole, was very in depth and made me interested in the film that then challenges me to see what they saw.

I stumbled across this video essay by accident. In fact, I’m not even sure it’s meant to be a “video essay,” however, it is. The essay is pretty simple. It utilizes split screen to have a scene from The Dark Knight on top and the film’s screenplay on the bottom. The screenplay scrolls from bottom to top as the scene progresses.

I’m generally not a fan of the split screen video essays, not because I think they do a poor job articulating ideas, but because I often find them confusing and they sometimes make my head hurt. However, I think that stacking the videos on top of one another makes them easier to read and go back and forth.

This essay is incredibly effective in showing the role of a screenplay in film, and how much it changes when it goes from paper to film. It shows how actors will often eliminate certain words or will ignore certain actions. In short, they do what feels right and natural in the scene. For example, in this scene featuring the Joker, the screenplay says that he should laugh at certain parts, however, Heath Ledger chooses not to do so. As you watch the scene unfold and read this in the script, you start to insert that dialogue into the scene and you can feel how awkward an inorganic it feels.

The essay does a wonderful job of illustrating how a screenplay is very much a working document, that changes several times by the time the screenwriter, director, and actor are done with it. It shows how much the three rely on one another, and how actors and directors engage with and will often alter the script. We are able to see how directors are able to use the script as merely a rough outline or guide, and how actors are able to tailor it to fit the scene to their emotions and what flows naturally. In screenwriting classes, we are told that the script is merely just a blueprint. In this essay, we are shown that this is true in a simply, yet incredibly effective way.

Michael Tucker’s video essay “The Dark Knight – Creating the Ultimate Protagonist” discusses the significance of the Joker (Heath Ledger) with regard to the plot and character development of batman (Christian Bale) in Christopher Nolan’s “The Dark Knight”. By using a combination of voice over and captioning, Tucker successfully transmits an intriguing view of the Joker’s antagonistic perfection. Much like one would while writing a paper, he uses literary evidence as well as examples of footage from “The Dark Knight” as well as other films to highlight his main arguments and ideas. One technique in particular stood out to me, which was his use of inter titles when quoting, both vocally and through captioning, big citations from his literary sources. Instead of pasting these long captions over shots from the film, which could be distracting and make it more difficult to fully grasp the information, he uses an image of the book paralleled with the captioning itself. In this way, he is able to cite his sources, offer important explanations to his argument, and retain the attention of his viewers. On top of that, he adds an effect to the caption, which makes the words appear as he says them, therefore accentuating his ability to teach the audience. Another key aspect of this video essay is the fact that he compares “The Dark Knight” with a film the film “Se7en”. Having seen both films, I was surprised that he chose to compare these two, seemingly different films, however through a use of a multiscreen, he is able to express their similarities. By doing this, he not only teaches us something new about “The Dark Knight” but also about “Se7en”.

Even though I consider myself a near-expert on this film since I chose it for my exercises, Allison de Fren still teaches me about many new aspects of Ex Machina in her video essay. This new knowledge comes quickly in the form of voiceover – calm and measured, just like the background music. Right away, she hits me with “Most of the dialogue is composed of questions” and  “Every question is a test for the characters but also the audience.” That was crazy for me to hear. I had not thought about it that way before, but it’s true. Before, I just wrote off the questioning style of the dialogue as true to the form of the Touring Test that Caleb, the main character, has to perform on Ava, the AI machine. It’s a test, so naturally, there should be questioning. But she’s right, the questioning goes so far beyond just the Touring Test; it permeates through virtually every conversation between Caleb and Nathan, the mastermind behind Ava, too. The movie is mainly a huge mind game that Nathan is playing on Caleb, but it is also a mind game that the movie is playing on the audience. We only come by crucial bits of information at the same time as Caleb does, with Nathan almost always five steps ahead. We have to ask questions in order to understand the movie at all, or else we would be lost. 

Allison de Fren uses scenes to augment her voiceover, as a kind of explanatory mode. Once she brings up an idea, she explains it through the dialogue between characters; for example, when Nathan explains the Touring Test to Caleb. She tells us the facts first and explains through the scenes after, causing the viewer to glue their eyes to the screen; they don’t want to miss this chance to see Allison’s words proven visually. In this way, the video essay completely assumes the role of a teacher instructing viewers, it feels very explanatory, almost lecture-y, but mesmerizing, not dull. Her voiceover complements the movie so well since her lullingly smooth voice and pacing matches Ava’s robotic yet human voice. This video is so successful, I can’t begin to get into her use of outside sources; it just flows so seamlessly through even though the sources are so different. From connecting Ex Machina to Blade Runner to the Bechdel Test to citing pictures of reclining naked women in artwork throughout history. Adding these extra elements really convinced me of her point, just as if she were writing an essay on paper and gathered pieces of evidence from all over.

Kevin Lee’s “Who Should Win the 2016 Oscar for Best Picture?” seems like a fairly straightforward and potentially even uninspired videographic essay when you only consider its title. The video is part of a series of that Lee made, detailing his opinions and critiques of the Oscar nominees for a variety of award categories ranging from best cinematography to best actor. Lee’s video defies it generic title and offers up a surprisingly self-reflective and powerful message though. Instead of breaking down the pros and cons of each nominee, and considering their individual merits, Lee focuses on the single film which he believes to be deserving of the best picture award. The film which Lee champions is The Big Short. His reasoning is that The Big Short does an “expectation defying-ly” good job of presenting a complex real-world situation thanks to the fact that the film approaches storytelling in an atypical manner…the same manner as a video essay. With voiceover, 4^th wall breaks, rhythmic editing, and other “experimental” filmmaking techniques, The Big Short rejects Hollywood convention to thoughtfully illustrate and discuss the story leading up to the 2007 housing market crash which launched the great recession.

With some of his other videos, like “Transformers: the Premake”, Lee uses unconventional storytelling through the use of precisely executed screen capture to craft a visual narrative. Based on this example alone, it is safe to say that Lee visual style is diverse and experimental. When editing footage from The Big Short for his 2016 Oscar video, it is often tough to tell where Lee’s artistic touch stops, and the Hollywood production’s begins. Even with a less hands-on approach of simply showing the footage in its original aspect ratio with captions overlaid un-distractingly on the black bars, Lee’s manipulation of the footage is frequently blended with the film’s original editing. The effect reinforces his point that The Big Short is an essay film – and argues that techniques and ideas which are foundational in the culture of videographic essays have a place in the mainstream, even if the mainstream is unaware of it.

Now that I have watched a lot of fast-paced video essays from creators like Tony Zhou, watching video essays with a much slower tone is an interesting experience. The Spielberg Face is still a compelling video essay explaining some of the reasons for Steven Spielberg’s massive success as a director, but it doesn’t “feel” like it is trying to hold my attention and keep me from clicking away like some other video essays do. In a way this video essay “feels” more “genuine” than other faster paced video essays I’ve watched, because the video seems designed to talk about a compelling topic, instead of designed to keep a viewer from clicking away until the very end of the video. At the same time though, the argument and examples are interesting enough that I still didn’t want to click away from this video either, despite the comparatively slower nature of this video essay to some others.
Kevin B. Lee’s video essay the Spielberg Face is probably one of the more “conventional” video essays that I have seen from him. In this video essay, Kevin B. Lee uses text on screen (for movie titles and credits), voiceover narration, and various clips from Steven Spielberg’s films. There is an instance where Lee shows most of the instances of Spielberg face from one movie all at once using multiscreen, but other than that, Lee doesn’t manipulate the visuals very much. Because of the topic though, I think that the relative “simplicity” of this video essay lends well to talking about the Spielberg Face because of how entrancing all of the shots are, even if they are all very similar. This meant I was content watching all of these shots from Spielberg films without lots of split screens or fancy transitions or the use of other graphic design elements.
In terms of talking about film making and the actual content of this video essay, the Spielberg face is an interesting type of shot that Spielberg has mastered and used throughout his whole career. The “Spielberg face” as Kevin B. Lee refers to it is a shot of a character looking in awe at something off screen. While this shot was not invented by Spielberg, his films have been built around using these shots to build tension and awe. I think these close ups, and sometimes dolly shots, are effective because they let the viewer fully experience the character’s reaction to something, making the actual thing that the character is looking at seem more impressive once the viewer actually gets to see it. The Spielberg face acts to build up suspense for the actual awe inspiring event, so that when we (as the viewers) finally do see that event, we can’t help but be awe inspired ourselves. The Spielberg face is also powerful because it allows the viewer to spend “intimate” time with the characters and see their reactions to the world around them. While this technique may be overused in Hollywood blockbusters, I think that it makes sense that viewers are drawn to shots like this. As a viewer I am always looking for characters to connect to and understand. That means that for me at least, moments where I can begin to understand a character better simply through watching their facial expressions, are shots that are very effective at connecting the viewers to the characters in the movie.

In Recreating History, Vugar Efendi opened us the door to memorable historical events which are re-created through movies. Through this no voice-over video essay, we can say that history is an important source for movies, and movies help surviving history.

Overall, Vugar starts his video with some historical events, or moments in the entertainment world. The essay is began with Edith Piaf’s remarkable performance at Olympia in 1961. He kept the low quality and the black and white color of the old sequence as a significant element for proof for the historicity of his source.  Slowly after that, the scene from the movie La vie en rose (2007) appears on the right side of the video. We can easily see that Vugar used multi-screen technique to give us a comparison between historical source and recreated moments in movies. It is necessary to point out that the scene from La vie en rose is bigger, or more specific, wider, than the video of the performance: it has a dimension of cinematographic screens, while the other remains with its old norms. This unequal screen-dividing also keeps appear throughout his video essay. I personally appreciate his choice keeping old video’s frame dimension, because it gives audience the most realistic element to compare two given images.  This sequence is followed by Catch me if you can – recreating a 1977 game show To tell the truth and Damned United – recreating a historical interview with Brian Clough and Don Revie in 1974.

After that, he continues his video by showing historical documentary represented in movies:  Jackie, JFK, and Silma. They are all related to politicians or historically political event in 20th century. What surprised me is that after three “serious” moments, he leads audience to other entertained events, such as Andy Kaufman on Saturday Night Life (recreated in Man on the moon) or the fight between Micky Ward and Shea Neary (recreated in The Fighter). I am not saying that those events are not important or not “historical” enough, I just feel uneasy seeing there is no logic between his chosen moments (or there is but I did not see it?). Despite that illogical arrangement, he framed each screen perfectly, placed a symmetric juxtaposition which helped each sequence match with other. It is also important that all his last “historical moments” are from photos: the marriage between Stephen and Jane Hawkings, a personal intimate photo of Richard and Mildred Loving, and a self portrait of Christopher McCandless (he starts with videos and ends with photos). And in the last juxtaposition (McCandless’ picture and the scene from Into the Wild), the camera goes from a wide view (like in the photo), to a closer view, which showed us emotions represented through his face. Is it possible to say that movie, in this scene, did an “improvisation” by guessing the main character’s emotion which is clearly cannot be seen through photo – the historical element?

Through his comparison, we can see how movies tried to recreate historical events/moments by letting characters wear same clothes, building same scene, recreating same movements, emotions or even changing film’s color (Jacky used black and white to create an “historical environment”). However, it is easy finding out that in movies, those events are much more colorful, cinematographic and symbolic.

In Jacob Swinney’s “Cats Die Funny, Dogs Die Sad” video essay, Swinney uses clips from various films from different genres and time periods that feature the deaths of either dogs or cats, and rates these deaths on a scale from really sad to really funny. The video poses the question of why viewers typically find it funny when cats die and the deaths of cats are often treated as jokes in films, but the death of dogs in films to be one of the saddest things that can happen. While the video does use various clips and the scale of funniness/sadness to assert that typically, it is true that it is funny when cats die and sad when dogs die, Swinney does not really give a reason or answer to the question that he poses.

In Swinney’s video, he uses no voiceover to communicate to viewers but uses a little bit of text on screen at the beginning of the video to reiterate what the question of his video essay is. Text on screen only appears at the beginning of the video, then Swinney transitions into using a scale at the bottom of the screen to rate the clips he shows of examples of sad/funny clips of dogs or cats dying in various films. His method of using a scale was an interesting way to portray his ideas and I think was a good way of communicating with the viewer without using voiceover (which would distract from the clips from the movies that he used), and a good way of not using too much on the screen to distract from his original question. While it may have been his intention, I think his essay would have been more effective if he presented an answer to his question rather than proving that the theory that dogs dying is really sad and cats dying is funny is true, then leaving the video without an answer as to why.

This videographic film essay touches on the ways in which films are translated and “mutilated “across nations. In Catherine’s examples, we look at the Uruguayan film – La Casa Muda and its adaptation to U.S cinema, Silent House. The video essay utilizes multiscreen and shows the introduction to each of the respective films. Analysis of the films mise en scene, use of camera angles and methods of storytelling work well because of the ways the viewer can visualize and notice the differences in the manners the directors went to storytelling and the multitudes of direction possible in filmmaking. The text is limited to small phrases and an avoidance of sentence is omnipresent – perhaps to illuminate the low budget film and also emphasize the movies on display as saying more than what a sentence may. La Casa Muda is a unique film in its approach to filmmaking, utilizing a method not many have used before- the single take film. La Casa Muda is also a film that was made on a low budget (6k USD).  Silent House is a much more obvious U.S movie that utilizes the normal progression of film found in most movies in Hollywood and has a much larger budget (2million USD). The sound of the video comes directly from the movies and creates an ominous mood – that can highlight the director’s horror film perspectives and ways in which adaptation of movies creates a new market that piggybanks on the creativity of others for profit. That perhaps is one of the scariest things in the video. In a blog post by Catherine Grant, the author of the video, she touches on this topic – “How did this high-concept film (tagline: “Miedo real en Tiempo real”/“Real fear in real time”) come to be such a desirable property that a licensed U.S. remake was released within a year? And what are the consequences of such a rapid turnover?”

In this short video Tony Zhou looks at a couple shot clips from Nicolas Winding Refn’s “Drive” (2011) to show to composition can tell a story. A lot can be said about the movie’s ability to convey meaning through it’s cinematography, especially if we were to divide the screen into quadrants. As Zhou points out in this video, each quadrant is deliberately framed to tell it’s own story. For example, as Michelle Williams and Ryan Reynolds walk down their hallway and go their respected doors, the right side of the screen focuses primarily on Williams and her downcast pensive expression but ends with Reynolds going to this door and glancing her way before going in. But on the left side of the screen, the shot begins with Reynolds removing his driving coat (haven’t seen the movie, but I’ll be bold and interpret it as a symbol of his dangerous hidden life being a hired driver) and at the end Williams hesitating to enter into her apartment. Each side gives two different stories but come together as one to give the scene an extra layer of vivaciousness, depth, and life. Zhou points out how the quadrant system creates emotion and suspense through it’s method of dividing up space and blocking actors.

I always tend to like Tony Zhou’s videos as a place for inspiration when it comes to videographic criticisms. His casual friendly tone not only makes the content feel approachable but it also draws the viewer in, inviting the listener to see what he sees. In addition to voiceover, he uses a number of effects like super imposed graphics, changes in speed, and fade in and outs to show how the compositional balance of “Drive” works as a tool to make subvert conventional notions of cinematography.

(WEEK 5 RESPONSE)

This video essay by Nerdwriter1 takes apart the relatively new space action movie “Passengers.” The movie has faced significant criticism form a number of formal and informal reviewers, i.e. film critics and youtube channels, and although objectively not a terrible movie, Passangers arguable could have been a lot better – which is what Nerdwriter1 explores.

I found this videographic criticism fascinating to watch because it discusses the devices used in movies to tell stories. Nerdwriter1 uses  multiscreens and additional diagrams and graphics to outline the original movie into 5 acts with two clear possible endings. The 5 acts follow a trope and certain formats that link the story to a more romanic action drama, where the hero messes up but is forgiven in the end by his lady love and receives absolution for his “sins” (or, as the essay points out, he could die). But this storyline is fairly generic and has been frequently used in blockbuster like movies over the past couple of decades.

Considering that “Passengers” has a pretty creative premise to it, Nerdwriter1 argues that a lot could be done to improve it with what’s already there and uses this video to explore that potential. Inspired by a conversation from another video, Nerdwriter1 rearranges a couple of the major acts, switching the main perspective from the hero, Chris Pratt, to that of the heroine love interest, Jennifer Lawrence. By moving the beginning of the film to the middle of it there arises an entirely different tone, set of motives, and meaning. The movie becomes much spookier and breaks away from the more traditional structure of it’s genre. As Nerdwriter1 points out, this doesn’t solve a lot of the other problems the movie has but it certainly poses an exciting and inspiring new version of it.

In another one of my film classes we were discussing directing and writing and my professor told us that we were creating a story to write and direct it the way we envisioned and then think about 5 other ways to direct and film the same sequence. Stories must be explored from all angles, taken apart and put back together again. I feel like “Passengers, Rearranged” does exactly this by demonstrating how order and editing can so powerfully change the meaning and understanding of a story, and potentially could make it a lot better. This is an exercise I would want to do during each step of production and while watching videos myself – what would happen if we rearranged the story? What becomes of the elements we were relying on?

(WEEK 4 RESPONSE)

This video essay by Kogonada withholds analytical, expository voiceover and onscreen text in favor of foregrounding the sounds and images of Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy, as well as numerous other films which deal with and interrogate the concept of time in cinema. This creates an effective and affecting video, one that delivers far more meaning and invites far more engagement than a less abstract viewing experience might produce. Kogonada in this piece examines not merely how time is treated as a theme in great films, but also how film itself captures and embalms time. He posits the premise that cinema is “the art of time,” and explores how, through that mentality, Linklater and others—most obviously Francois Truffaut in his four Antoine Doinel films—use film to sketch the development of characters across their lives. Time is imagined in these films as a fleeting and insubstantial thing; in Linklater’s vision, we are visitors in the world for the brief period of our lives. This does not result in a nihilistic conception of reality or a pessimistic directorial style however. Rather, it imbues brief and irretrievably passing moments with a deep meaning and profundity. This mentality lies at the heart of Linklater’s best works, and ties his films together—not through a distinctive visual style, idiosyncratic narrative structure, or favored choice of subject matter, but rather through a core cinematic DNA which uses captured and embalmed moments of time to have a filmic conversation about the nature of time.

As a work of videographic film criticism, this piece benefits enormously from its more experimental style. Though hardly avant-garde, this video essay has very little direct narration—Kogonada sparingly deploys clips of a phone interview he conducted with Linklater, but these sounds neither distract from the juxtaposition of film visuals nor tell us directly how we should interpret a given work. Instead, Kogonada demands more of his audience. He asks us to draw connections between great films—like Truffaut’s Doinel films and Linklater’s Before trilogy—and, more importantly, probe what in Truffaut’s work inspired Linklater. Kogonada’s interview, as well as generous character voiceover, suggests that it’s the multilayered relationship between film and time which has prompted this imitation. Because Kogonada refrains from spelling out his precise ideas about the subject, he leaves more room for interpretation in the mind of the viewer, allowing them to draw connections to beautiful-but-fleeting moments in their own lives, or perhaps imagining concurrent examples in other films. One clever trick Kogonada uses to encourage this interpretation is to use audio from one Before film—mostly Before Sunrise (1995)—over images taken from the subsequent films in the trilogy. This draws the three films, which were made with nine year gaps in between them, much closer together. Simultaneously, it prompts those who know the films well to consider how the characters changed throughout the series, and why such juxtaposition feels narratively jarring even as it reinforces Kogonada’s thesis.

Fresh from the epigraph assignment and the multiscreen assignment, and also fresh from a quasi-failed attempt to combine the two, I stumbled upon this video essay by Kevin B. Lee about a specific scene in the movie A Second Time Around. 

One thing about Kevin that is an unlikely thing to admire but that I do, because of how square and geometric and clean and designy I like everything I do to be, is how he handles aesthetics. His use of basic fonts and his video overlaps on multiscreen (which could be a technical necessity rather than an aesthetic choice), the way he uses text connotes casual conversation while still talking about very serious matters. It is so great. One consequence of these choices is that the critical distance of the academic from the studied object is affirmed and maintained. Another one is the demystification of the video-essay itself as a form that isn’t only for professionals who have enormous experience with editing, but for everyone. Kevin has produced more than 300 video-essays. He is no novice to the genre, his style is definitely a choice that he makes.

This video-essay shows such a perfect use of text. I am still trying to figure out myself when text can be best used in videographic essays. I have a slight fear of leaving images to speak for themselves. The PechaKucha exercise made me realize that early on in this class. I had much anxiety about whether the audience would understand the connections that I was making through my editing, and I hated that I was losing important aspects of the movie. To compensate, I wish I used text. The voice-over, but especially the epigraph were great at soothing that side of me that wanted to say more than these silent images conveyed. Another “problem” about my movie is the fact that it is mainly a silent movie. nothing much is said. It is very visual, which is perhaps one of the reasons why I enjoy this movie and formally similar movies, they baffle me at their ability to make meaning without using spoken or written word.

Coming back to Kevin’s essay, the text here is perfect for the pace of the scene, which is a posed conversation and therfore creates space for the audience to juggle with reading and listening and looking at the images. The fact that the conversation is so central to the scene means that Kevin needed to find a way to communicate with the audience without competing with the content of the video itself. He could have paused here and there and spoken in voice-over but that would have been disruptive, not to the dialogue, but to the idea that this is a real conversation, between a real couple and that in real life things just happen and flow and all that we can do really is notice them as they happen.

I thought this essay was great and educative. It does such a great job at pointing out all the aspects of the scene that are relevant to creating a realistic and genuine scene between a couple with the aid of very technical film knowledge.

Thumbs up.

Youtube user Storyteller presents his video American Sniper: Anti-War misinterpreted through a heavy use of visual juxtapositions. He uses an explanatory style to guide the viewers through the various layers he attempts to uncover. It should be noted that this videographic essay uses external sources as a stepping ground that creates a division between what critics believed the film American Sniper stood for and to what Storyteller believes is the true meaning of the film. In the former, Storyteller uses a variety of clips and tweets to form the current argument: people like Noam Chomsky, Howard Green, or even Michael Moore all believed that the film represented a sense of deep nationalism. Someone like Michael Moore would view this film as war propaganda.

Moreover, on the film’s surface, Storyteller agrees with this assumption. Various scenes throughout the film showcase the way war can instill a sense of national pride into a person which in turn leads the person towards risking his life to protect their nation. In contrast, the latter, Storyteller’s opinion, centers around the underlying message of the film: one cannot protect their nation while also wanting to protect their family. The main protagonist, Chris Kyle, believed in this ideology. If he could fight abroad for the freedom of his nation, he would also be protecting his family. Storyteller, then, uses these various clips to create a contrast between the two arguments.

Continuing, the use of graphics throughout the film act as a way for Storyteller to guide the viewers. In one shot, he uses a triangle to form the three points revolving around Chris Kyle’s ideology. This, of course, revolves around his desire to protect his family, to believe in God’s plans for his future, and to never quit these goals. In presenting these three different points, the video follows them with scenes that correspond with each point. One scene shows a younger Chris at church. Here, from a young age, he forms his ideology to follow God’s plans. Such an idea further informs the viewer of why he decides to join the war. In another scene, Chris looks at the news as he learns of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Once again, this traumatic, national event triggers the ideology of religion inculcated in him from a young age. As he watches his nation, an imagined family, under attack, he realizes he must protect his family.

However, in joining the military to protect this imagined family, he leaves his immediate family at home. Here, the video creates a visual juxtaposition between scenes showing Chris fighting in the war while his wife cries for his return. These two scenes act as a turning point in Chris’s ideology. As much as he believes he is protecting both families, he can only choose one. This, in turn, triggers the video’s third point. Part of his ideology impels him never to quit from God’s plan, this plan centered around the protection of his family, his immediate one, and his nation. These two ideas create a sense of conflict for him, a sense of perpetual internal fighting.

The video further indicates this turning point by showing a scene of Chris watching a group of terrorist murder a mother and child who provided him with important information. Here, he must face the reality of this perpetual war. In protecting his own family back home, he must experience the destruction of another family. This juxtaposition further demonstrates the deterioration of his own ideology. In another scene, he shoots a terrorist. After doing so, one would think he would have sensed some sort of relief, yet he is unable to engage with his own feelings. Instead of feeling a sort of happiness, he experiences an anticlimactic event. Here, he realizes he cannot save everyone.

Furthermore, following this scene, Storyteller presents newsreels of President George W. Bush. In using these type of clips, the video wants the viewer to engage with multiple sources. Although a dramatized version of Chris Kyle’s life, the film still portrays the horrors of war. In using these clips, the video wants to remind the viewer of this underlying connection. Because not everyone may understand this connection, it can be easy for many to view this film as war propaganda; however, a closer look further demonstrates the internal conflict that soldiers go through especially once they return home. His death—he is killed by a veteran he worked with—further emphasizes the video’s message of the destruction that such wars cause.

It is interesting to note that the video relies on voiceover as a means of describing the video’s argument. This video would be different if it removed such an element from its style. In one sense, the film’s direction would be lost; however, the video could still use descriptions to guide the viewer. Regardless, the video achieves his goal in presenting its argument alongside the various visual juxtapositions.

Though this video essay is not even two minutes long, it is full of engaging material and provides great insight not only into the role of the eye in the films of Alfred Hitchcock, but also in how to craft an impactful video essay.

When I first watched this essay, I forgot to turn the sound on. Once I realized my mistake, I turned it on and watched it again. I was disappointed. The sound in the video essay is a just a random creepy song, and detracts from the images on the screen. The sound is meant to mimic that of a Hitchcock film and add suspense to the video essay, however, it comes across as cheesy and forced. When I watched the essay without the sound, I found it to be far more impactful. Without the sound we’re forced the stare directly into the eyes of whichever character is on screen. We feel a deeper connection with them because we’re forced to confront the emotion(s) on their fact, not the emotion the music may be trying to elicit. In Hitchcock’s films, he often uses silence as a way to make his audience feel even more uncomfortable because we expect someone to scream or cry or yell. In a video essay, we expect there to be some kind of sound, whether it’s narration, music, or sound from the film itself. I think this essay would have been more impactful had it not used sound.

One of the things I really enjoyed about the video essay was the way in which it was edited. The film clips are edited in such a way that the eyes of the different figures are all in the same quadrant and general location on the screen. If you make eye contact with the first set of eyes, you don’t have to move your own to make contact with the rest. This allows us to better focus on the eyes themselves, which, of course, is kogonada’s intention. It may seem weird to edit a great work of art, however, it’s essentially because the video essay turns the film into something else, and editing is quite necessary. By taking Hitchcock’s work and editing it to fit the essay, to create a feeling, we are able to derive new meaning from his work.

Because this week we will be working on a split screen exercise, I thought that I should look for video essays that deal with this formal criterion.

I watched “Gestos do Realismo” by Margarida Leitao, which is an essay that parallels two movies from the realist movement in exactly matching shots and sequences. The result is quite incredible and, I can imagine, quite laborious. This video essay does not tell us much about the movies themselves, does not necessarily or at least not outwardly want to make a point, but definitely, wants to bring our attention to the commonalities of representation within the realist. From this video essay, I am learning that sometimes video essays are better without voice-over or text, especially given the use of multiscreen where the juxtaposition speaks for itself. The movie that I chose as my source material is one that deals with the post-independence idealism and the rejection of the African in favor of the European and colonizer’s lifestyle. It is my belief that this movie is highly political and that it denounces a post-colonial reality but I am so scared of that being lost in my video essays that I believe that it has prevented me from being truly creative with my material and treat it like the piece of art that it is.

Gestos do Realismo exploited commonalities between movies that I will never find between my movie and that of other folks in the class, but it also shows that simplicity can be one of the best ways of communicating meaning, especially if meaning is conveyed in the form of movement, pace, camera angles.

After looking up what realism means in the sphere of film I learned that it is not a movement, it is not a genre but it describes a type of film that tries to, as much as possible, portray the real, as is. That makes the video all the more meaningful to me as both shots were extremely slow paced, with little abbreviating cuts. Interestingly enough it did not seems to me that the acting was very realistic but perceptions on acting change over time and those movies are clearly old, they are black and white classical movies.