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Never Turn Your Back on Family: An Analysis of Relationships in Summer Wars
Harry Underwood
Film Analysis
COMM 3010
4/13/2013
Never Turn Your Back on Family: An Analysis of Relationships in Summer Wars
Theories about communication are crafted in order to almost-accurately predict the communicative behavior of individuals in a number of settings and intentions. Within the realm of both old, large families as well as new, young ones, the utility of discerning communication commonalities among participants in these relationships is indispensable. Summer Wars, a 2009 animated film directed by Mamoru Hosoda, is exemplary of a number of theories and principles on communications which have been explored over the history of communications as a subject of academic investigation. Ranging from the interpersonal and nonverbal to the massive and computer-mediated, the film uses the protagonist as a vehicle for exploration of communication as a life- and world-changing agent in human experience.
The Relationship Interaction Stages Model, which offers a suitable rubric for the development of characters’ relationships within the film, shows various stages of interpersonal behavior which reflect the severity of sentiments harbored by the participants of the relationship toward other participants. The model ranges in its stages from “coming together” – the stages of initiation, experimenting, intensifying, integrating and bonding – to “coming apart” – differentiation, circumscribing, stagnation, avoiding, and terminating. It is through this model that the behaviors of a number of key characters in Summer Wars – namely Kenji, Natsuki, Wabisuke, Sakae and Kazuma – can be assessed as fluctuations in relationship status within a large family in the flux of institutional change.
Coming Apart
The differentiating stage is one in which differences between individuals or groups is emphasized by the participants, with resent often being a major sentiment exhibited by the parties. This stage is reached on a group basis by the male members of the Jinnouchi clan following the matriarch Sakae’s death, as they pursue a plan to take Love Machine down while the female members of the family concern themselves with preparations for the funeral. On an interpersonal level, Kenji and Natsuki also experience this stage with each other, with Natsuki angrily running from him after seeing her uncle Wabisuke remove himself from the clan and leave the house. To her, Kenji seems too much of an outsider to understand her feelings.
Circumscribing is a stage marked by the focus of individuals on their own personal matters, actively distancing themselves from each other. This, collectively, is developed by the men and women of the family, with the men, including Kenji, attempting to work on a plan to take on the virus, and the women focusing on the funerary arrangements for Sakae. Members of the two groups complain about each other’s seemingly-misplaced priorities, showing their greater desperation and concern for the matters at their respective hands.
The stagnation stage is marked by a lack of change in relational intensity, boredom, and short answers to questions from relationship participants. Wabisuke, a “love child” of Sakae’s husband who is first shown as a late, ill-welcomed arrival to the reunion, attempts to strike up a conversation with family members, only for most of the adult members of the clan to show their anger at his presence due to past misdeeds. He remains, for a period, on the periphery of family functions with a sense of tedium, with the adult members remaining leery and dismissive of his presence. His lack of change in relationship status vis-à-vis the family reflects the intolerant sentiment blocking the two parties from any progression.
The avoiding stage is one in which mostly physical isolation from other family members occurs with only minimal communication. It is in this stage which we find characters like Kazuma, who isolates himself from the clan while playing in the virtual world Oz as his character King Kazma. He hardly communicates or interacts with other family members or their activities, only involving himself with the family when needed, asked or drawn by a sudden impulse of self-interest.
The termination stage, in which absolutely no contact of a physical or communicative nature is maintained between parties, is reached by Wabisuke, as he had already spent ten years of his life in the United States and had only come back to Japan for the sake of his adoptive grandmother Sakae, who he calls “you old hag” in a semi-joking tone of voice. This termination is renewed after he finds himself at the point of an antique spear wielded by Sakae in anger for his creation and selling of the virus to the U.S. military; he flees in a rage from the estate and remains in isolation from the clan until the one person who has admiration for him, Natsuki, calls him home with the news of Sakae’s death.
Coming Together
The initiating stage, in which individuals first interact with each other, is illustrated from the beginning of the film. Natsuki and Kenji enter this stage when Natsuki, the “prettiest girl in school,” enlists him to join her on her train trip to her family reunion. The two ask questions of each other along the way about their interests and hobbies, such as Kenji’s prowess in mathematics and the size of Natsuki’s family; this stage transforms into something too radical for Kenji’s tastes as Natsuki surprisingly introduces him to Sakae as her fiancée.
The intensifying stage involves probes into, and disclose, each other’s personal morals and values. Sakae participates in this stage when, after he is introduced as Natsuki’s “beau,” she sternly questions Kenji on his ability to protect Natsuki from any harm or danger, receiving a reluctant answer in the affirmative before smiling with assurance. Before he is (temporarily) hauled away for his alleged unleashing of a virus, Kenji shows more of himself to Sakae by disclosing to her his own comparative lack of a family life compared to that enjoyed by the Jinnouchi clan, ending with an expression of appreciation to her and to the clan. Finally, after explosively driving off Wabisuke from her estate, Sakae invites Kenji to play a (final) card game called “hanafuda,” disclosing Natsuki’s shortcomings and wagering (successfully) that, if she wins, he will “promise to take care of Natsuki.” With these trades of inquiry and information, Kenji and Sakae establish a rapport as individuals sharing commonalities in values and interests.
The integration stage, in which the lives of individuals begin to merge and individuals begin to see themselves as participants in a larger collective, is reached by most of the key characters in the film in their own individual ways. Wabisuke’s isolation is ended when Natsuki calls his phone with the news of Sakae’s death, to which he reacts by desperately rushing back to the clan house to pay his respects to his grandmother. This sudden turn of emotion is reciprocated by the family to Wabisuke on Sakae’s written wishes for them to welcome him back. Kazuma also experiences this stage as he begins to emerge from his isolation and become more involved in the family’s struggle to stop the artificially-intelligent Love Machine virus, using his King Kazma character to fight the avatar incarnation of the virus. Natsuki herself is emotionally reintegrated into the clan by being enlisted to play a life-or-death card game of Hanafuda with the Love Machine, waging the Oz avatars of her family members in order to gain hundreds of millions of stolen accounts from Love Machine.
The integration stage is also reached on a monogamous level between Natsuki and Kenji at various points in the film. In the immediate aftermath of Sakae’s death, a distraught Natsuki begs Kenji to hold her hand, to which the reluctant main protagonist eventually complies as she weeps. It is this contact which marks the duo’s first attempt at intimate self-disclosure, with Natsuki, in a time of depression, showing her interest in physical and emotional solidarity from someone who is as interested in playing a positive role in her world. However, given their comparative lack of private self-disclosure to each other throughout most of the story, this moment in their relationship is also indicative of the experimental relationship, as they are now slightly more comfortable and connected with each others’ close presence.
Finally, the stage of bonding is reached by Kenji and Natsuki as they attempt to kiss each other in public for the first time after the clan’s victory over the Love Machine virus. This stage is marked by a public declaration of love, an act which shows the progression of a relationship to a moment of comfort and internal acceptance of one’s status as a participant and partner which would be hardly deprecated in quality if it were to be shown to the view of other parties. At the same time, due to their comparative lack of time spent within each other’s close proximity, this moment of self-disclosure and intimacy can also be associated with the experimenting stage. At this particular moment in time, the two are now more comfortable and willing to embrace the connections forged between each other, although the two continue to carry this budding relationship at a steady pace.
Conclusion
In conclusion, Summer Wars demonstrates to the viewer how the relationship interaction stage model operates within a large family in a moment of violent change. Sakae’s written will and testament advises her surviving family, including Wabisuke, to show resilience in their relationships: “Never turn your back on family, even when they hurt you. Never let life get the better of you.” This statement speaks volumes to the viewer about the film’s message of collective resilience in the face of crisis. The statement can just as well apply to the relationship between two individuals like Natsuki and Kenji, who are separated from each other at various times, but find themselves increasingly drawn to each other in their most-helpless moments. Just as Wabisuke possesses a close, but fluctuating relationship with Sakae and her family, Natsuki and Kenji develop their relationship in stages of interaction with each other and with their clan.
Light and Darkness as Frames in Elia Kazan’s East of Eden
Harry Underwood
Essay 4
NMAC 4481
12/1/2012
Light and Darkness as Frames in Elia Kazan’s East of Eden
Some of the most emotionally-heavy scenes in any film work best with the timely interplay between light and darkness, a trope which was well-utilized in the black-and-white era of 1940s-era Hollywood film noir. Elia Kazan’s usage of such a trope attempted to adapt it to the era of color and widescreen that became associated with 1950s-era film. His adaptation of John Steinbeck’s East of Eden, set in California on the edge of the U.S. entry into the first World War, effectively uses this interplay to stunning dramatic effect in order to display a full range of human emotion and interaction. Film noir’s most imitable tools – harsh light as inquisition, high contrast light as a frame for darkness, darkness as a frame for light, smoke as an amplification of light, camera tilts to exaggerate the direction of light or darkness, and cast shadow as a symbol of enclosure – are transferred to color film as tools for illustration and symbolism of character behavior and sentiment.
Ambient lighting sets the earliest scenes in the film, with the mid-afternoon sun shining brightly over the people of Monterey, California. Kate, dressed in a dark dress and hat as she marches resolutely to the bank to make a deposit, makes for a visible contrast against the sunny disposition of the surrounding environment. Cal, who notices her and attempts to follow, forms a less-outstanding contrast, his visible face facing away from the sun. From this outset, the audience grasps the notion that Kate and Cal have a less-than-honorable connection with each other, a connection which is in one direction; other facially-visible characters in the scene are less prone to be displayed with such an alignment to the sun, their faces facing in the direction of the sun. Crowther notes that while the usage of the CinemaScope lens for the widescreen capture of the California environment allowed Kazan to capture the “expanse and mood in his California settings” in a manner which was “beyond compare,” the “strain of troubled people against such backgrounds has a clear and enhanced irony” (Crowther).
Lighting plays a large role in establishing conflict, with both lighting and darkness taking their own opportunities to amplify the camera’s capture of the generational conflict between characters. While entering the upper floor of the barn in which Adam preserves large blocks of ice, Cal notices his brother, Aron, flirting with his – Aron’s – girlfriend Abra; the scene is largely set in high-key lighting in order to show the intimacy between Aron and Abra, but lower-key lighting and cast shadowing appear at various times across the characters’ faces, so as to show the incompleteness of such intimacy while under Cal’s gaze. In the view of Rathgeb, the presence of the ice blocks “symbolizes the coldness of Adam’s own house, especially his emotional neglect of Cal” (Rathgeb), a perception that can only be amplified by the prevailing majority of darkness in the barn. Later, the dining room scene places Cal and Adam under the imposition of above lighting, which Adam uses to his advantage in expressing his inquisitorial role in the scene while Cal is shown as repressed, dreary and shying from the pressure. The camera tilt emanates from the direction of the central light, helping to exaggerate the inquisitorial effect.
Lighting, or the decrease thereof, also helps to accentuate transitions. While in the brothel, Cal attempts to get the waitress to direct him to the owner’s room, and the lighting becomes ever darker while Cal wins the waitress over, ultimately moving the two from the smoky lighting of the eatery to the hallway leading to the owner’s personal room. By this time, the lighting switches its role in the depiction from the highlighting of intimate questioning to the display of the emotional chasm which he is about to cross, as Cal’s walk into the hallway away from the light of the eatery takes him through stark darkness to another overhead light above the door of the owner. The camera, with its view from the opposite end of the hallway, places Cal and the waitress in a dark profile against the eatery’s light, further heightening the symbolism of the moment.
Inquisitorial lighting once again appears in the meeting between Cal and Kate in her office. The lighting in the scene gives ground to the imposing Kate, one who commandeers the above lighting alongside the tilted camera angle in order to severely question Cal, who repeatedly shrinks from both the lighting and the camera under her gaze. Ultimately, as she acquiesces to his request for money, it is Kate who eventually seems smaller and darker in countenance to Cal, as she sits down while Cal approaches the desk. At the end, as she orders him to leave, she is standing up but also retreating into the darkness of the room’s corner, a darkness cast upon her by the overhead window panes. This sequence is evocative of Kate’s lingering bitterness against Adam, one which is vocally exhibited toward Cal before her internal wounds and weaknesses are exposed for the viewer.
In a rare positive usage of the interplay in the film, frontal lighting against dark backgrounds is also used in depicting mutual attraction. Cal and Abra sitting on the ferris wheel places their faces as well-lit against the night sky, bringing the two into a closer visual bond; this is a notable usage of chiaroscuro, a visual technique in which faces or objects are highly contrasted by light against an extremely-dark background. In reviewing Kazan’s 1950 film Panic in the Streets, Simmons notes that Kazan had “admired how the Expressionists used chiaroscuro lighting to heighten emotion” (Simmons 2005), a heightening which is more apparent in Abra’s own pained confession of love for Cal.
Darkness and shadows are used to capture the development and formation of emotional initiative and reaction. When Aron approaches and rebukes Cal for his behavior, the camera captures Aron standing against the willow tree which conceals Cal, both of which are set against the filtered light of the moon. Burt notes that “the shot, of necessity, is low-lit and the characters, as well as their facial expressions, are barely discernible,” but that “his [Cal’s] sudden silence and slow, deliberate movement out from under the tree has treacherous implications” (Burt 148). This movement, timed after a long silence of thought formation, shows Cal emerging from the concealment of blended scenery into the immediate foreground as one who has yet to fully accomplish his reaction.
The usage of darkness as a symbolic chasm of acceptability appears once again when Cal introduces Aron to Kate. Cal teases Aron from out of the darkness of the brothel’s hallway into the imposing, sharp overhead light of Kate’s room, abruptly pushing Aron on top of Kate before shutting the well-lit room’s door to plunge much of the visible screen into comparative darkness. In this, the use of bright overhead light is again intended as something which reveals an encounter which is beneficial to neither party under that light’s gaze; the scene also shows Cal as one who, in his own way, uses the light to his own advantage rather than being the recipient of above lighting as an inquisitional tool.
Light, amplified by smoke, once again becomes a frame for darkness. The next time that we see Aron is as a shadow of his earliest self in the film, laughing maniacally after having burst his head through a train window while heading off to the war. The light from closer to the front of the train is accented by the train’s smoke as it piles forward, showing Aron as one who is entering the ghostly border of separation that gradually places him as far away from Adam as possible. The event also slowly shadows Aron’s languishing face while the train moves away from the camera and toward the smoke, symbolically marking his exit from the story of the film, and, by interpretation of the ethereal smoke, his own impending “demise”; this, apparently, is somewhat true to the source material, as the novel shows Aron as dying in the battlefield, an event which causes Adam to have his stroke (Steinbeck 737).
The final bedroom scene in which Adam lays prone from the effect of the stroke is accentuated by the camera’s capture of the remote sunlight hovering above a darkness which largely dominates the wall between Cal, at the door, and Adam in bed. It is this final chasm which Cal crosses as he attempts to engage his father on different terms than in the previous scenes of the film. Upon closer view, the lighting of Adam’s face is of high contrast, his eyes being most well-lit in comparison to his cast-shadowed mouth; to the camera, this shows his eyes, by themselves, as being incessantly accusatory against Cal. The cast shadow upon Abra’s fearful face also is the same as that which appeared in the earlier scene in the barn loft, as Abra was also fearful of the “animal”-like nature of Cal’s inquisitorial gaze upon her and Cal; this time, however, Abra is now fearful of Adam’s refusal to reconcile with Cal for his own misdeed. The cast shadows of the window panes and the gray lighting entering through the windows, however, paint the entire scene in a color of guilt, with all three characters being tried in some form for their prior misdeeds or misconceptions about each other. It is in this setting that Cal, Abra and Adam are, in Hirsch’s view true to Kazan’s usual narrative form as they come to “some kind of emotional resolution” with each other, a trope which is “optimistic and therefore anti-noir” (Hirsch 132).
Kazan’s usage of film noir-style lighting in key scenes in the film, such as the confrontation next to the shadowy willow tree or the cast shadow on the faces of Abra and Aron, ultimately work against the narrative style most associated with the film noir subgenre. Hirsch notes that East of Eden and other films directed by Kazan, such as On the Waterfront and Baby Doll “have vestiges of noir visual style in their high contrast lighting, their smoky environments, their scrutinizing close-ups, their occasional odd camera placement,” but subsequently notes that “Kazan is finally too impassioned for the somnambulist noir style; he is too exuberant to be contained for long within the noir frame and world view” (Hirsch 132).
In conclusion, Kazan utilizes the tropes of film noir-style lighting in a color format in order to illustrate a story of family conflict and human fallacy. Such techniques work primarily with the intended dialogue and behavior of the characters, but other factors are made apparent, such as camera angles and spatial relationships with the camera. Because of Kazan’s own narrative preferences and personal influence upon the decade, however, these techniques mark the evolution and separation of 1950s film from their grim, hard-boiled predecessors of the prior decade, directing light and shadow alike toward the eventual presentation of redemption and reconciliation.
Works cited
Burt, George. “East of Eden: Climactic Scene.” Indiana Theory Review. vol 11. pp. 145-164. 1991. IUScholarWorks. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
Crowther, Bosley. “The Screen: ‘East of Eden’ Has Debut; Astor Shows Film of Steinbeck Novel”. Rev. of East of Eden, dir. Elia Kazan. The New York Times 10 Mar. 1955. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
East of Eden. Dir. Elia Kazan. Perf. James Dean, Julie Harris, Richard Davalos, Raymond Massey, Jo Van Fleet, Burl Ives. Warner Bros., 1955. SockShare. SockShare. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
Hirsch, Foster. The Dark Side of the Screen: Film Noir. Cambridge: Da Capo Press, 2008. Google Books. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
Rathgeb, Douglas L. “Kazan as Auteur: The Undiscovered East of Eden.” Literature/Film Quarterly 16(1) (1988): 31-38. Humanities Full Text (H.W. Wilson). Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
Simmons, David Lee. “Panic Attack.” Gambit. Best of New Orleans. 5 Apr. 2005. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
Steinbeck, John. East of Eden. London: Penguin Books, 1992. Scribd. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
Shapeshifting as an Allegory for Sexual Desire in The Company of Wolves
Harry Underwood
Film Analysis
NMAC 4481
10/18/2012
Shapeshifting as an Allegory for Sexual Desire in The Company of Wolves
In literary fiction, the shapeshifting trope is one of the more popular applications of fantasy to a large body of scenarios, ranging from horror to romance. As an act of fantasy, it also has strong cultural currency, as mythologies and folk tales emanating from China to South America have utilized shapeshifting for similar effects. As such a trope is largely fantastic and psychologically-impactful, it is little wonder that shapeshifting of entities or objects is often encountered in dreams. People like Sigmund Freud made it partly their life’s work to view dreams and dream acts such as shapeshifting and animal behavior as representative of the brain’s very structure and composition, and his emphasis upon the dreamwork as a means of dream interpretation has helped to redefine the dream state. Such imagery fits easily into the dream-like scenes and scenarios of Neil Jordan’s The Company of Wolves, which utilizes various cinematic and psychological techniques in order to emphasize the shapeshifting of dream entities as both an allegory for sexual and orgasmic desires and an expression of the human dream pattern.
Sexually orgasmic imagery is evinced in at least one transformation in the film, as narrated by the grandmother. The gory transformation of the enraged lycanthrope ex-husband against his wife and his subsequent beheading results in the fall of his bloodied head into the vat of milk. The film’s slow-motion depiction of this scene dramatically evokes Freud’s theories on yonic and phallic symbolism, with the milk within the vat splashing fulsomely in reaction to the plunge of the werewolf’s head. The head’s subsequent final reversion to its human state upon its reappearance to the surface of the vat is emblematic of the ultimate realization of sexual release. However, the act of the beheading of the werewolf may also be emblematic of Freud’s statement that the “dream-work represents castration by baldness, hair-cutting, the loss of teeth, and beheading” (Interpretation 170), whereby the werewolf’s sexual desire for his wife, who is now prohibitive in her sentiments regarding him (an Oedipal reference to the “wrongness” of such a relationship between the inferior upstart and the motherly figure), have been short-circuited by the appearance of the new husband (a ‘fatherly” figure), one who is already able to assert his authority by having had children with her, resisted the werewolf’s headstrong advances and struck his wife in the face when she expresses fascination with the late werewolf’s disembodied visage (whereas the werewolf sought to do far worse to her in retribution for her remarriage).
In another segment of the film, slightly contrary to the trend from much of the film, shapeshifting is also utilized in the seeming taming, rather than unleashing, by one character of another’s sexual passions. Rosaleen’s shooting of the Huntsman, his subsequent transformation into his wolfish form, and his acquiescence to Rosaleen in his transformed state would be most emblematic of Rosaleen being able to repress her sexual desires. The Huntsman, outwardly, shows himself to be as cunning and gentlemanly as he can to Rosaleen, thus confirming himself to be a fulfillment of all that Rosaleen was told of both men and wolves by her grandmother and arousing her hackles. The camera posits this, climactically, as an oppositional moment between the two characters through repeated shots and reverse-shots, with Rosaleen being shown with lower-key frontal lighting in her fright. Yet, when revealed as the wolf underneath, he doesn’t pursue her further and sits at his position opposite to her; she realizes his station in the world and she finds herself less apprehensive against physical contact with the wolf. The high key backlighting of the moment, accented by soft fill light, helps to affect the display of new-found intimacy between the two characters. The lighting and camera work in this contrast between the two characters both before and after the Huntsman’s transformation help to identify the displacement of Rosaleen’s sexual feelings for the Huntsman from the “problematic” human form (one which was plagued by his striking yellow eyes in his semi-shifted state) to the “acceptable” wolf form (one which, in comparison to the other fantastic transformations in the film, is not shown as being especially ravenous, visibly showy or predatory, but accommodating to Rosaleen’s touch). Freud considered this to be “dream displacement”, in which “it is often an indistinct element which turns out to be the most direct derivative of the essential dream thought” (On Dreams 34).
The approach to the depiction of such transformations, or, more specifically, the resulting forms of such transformations and the sexual subtexts of their accompanying scenarios are largely influenced by the bias of the character. From the older and more soured Granny’s perspective, the bloody, hyperbolic transformation of the estranged werewolf husband reveals a churlish, fearsome creature underneath an uncontrollable, ungainly, haggardly humanoid guise, one that is wrought by frustration and rage. In contrast, Rosaleen’s werewolf is cheery, cunning and quite in control of his human guise, and is only brought to his own violent transformation through being physically, momentarily wounded. Underneath the guise, however, is the downcast, humbled figure of a gray wolf who is a stark contrast in behavior and depiction to Granny’s bellicose beast. This wolf, in fact, may be emblematic of Rosaleen’s entire diegetic time within the dream: shy, downcast and selective of to whom she will open her ears and heart, yet possessing of a yearning, unfulfilled potential sexuality which is innate to herself.
The importance of shapeshifting as a shift to a more animalistic state is key to understanding the sexual and wishful undertones of such events. As shapeshifting usually involves the changing of the physical image of an entity from one state to another, on dreams. The transformation of characters into other species is emblematic, superficially, of a core mantra of the film, that men are sexually-charged animals. However, as it is a young woman who holds the dreams depicted, Freud holds that such dreams “fulfilled wishes which were active during the day but had remained unfulfilled. The dreams were simple and undisguised wish fulfillments” (On Dreams 21). Granny, on one hand, represents an authority figure who represses such thoughts as loathsome and perverse, although Granny is an expression of Rosaleen’s fears of her own sexuality. On the other hand, Rosaleen utilizes men in the film as figures of both fear and admiration, those who are able to hide themselves in public yet contain the most rapacious desires, thus imbuing the transformations in the film with new meaning.
In conclusion, The Company of Wolves succeeds in exhibiting characters and their actions as composite conveyances of the relationship between both the most instinctual desires from within the human mind and the most rigid repressions which are integrated from outside. In particular, the transformation of the lycanthropes in the film best conveys the eruption of desire – be it violent or from behind the dream facade, while giving due importance and reason to both aspects. Through targeted lighting, cinematography and special effects, the film testifies to shapeshifting as a tool of wish fulfillment, sensory distortion and sexual desire in one’s individual dreamscape.
Works Cited
Company of Wolves, The. Dir. Neil Jordan. Per. Sarah Patterson, Angela Lansbury, and Stephen Rea. Henstooth Video (Video & DVD), 1984. DVD.
Freud, Sigmund. Interpretation of Dreams, The. 3rd Edition. MobileRead. 2009. Print.
–. On Dreams. New York, New York. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 1980. Print.
Naivete and Innocence in The Night of the Hunter
Harry Underwood
Essay 1
NMAC 4481
9/21/2012
Naivete and Innocence in The Night of the Hunter
The 1955 film The Night of the Hunter, directed by Charles Laughton, has long been cited for its visual exposition of frightening, leering imagery, among other components relevant to the film’s plot. The film is also notable for the thematic usage of contrast in order to visually depict the relationships of the characters with each other and their various ideals. Various visual elements tie into a core visual theme of the film, that being idealized innocence, naivete and impressionability and how the characters throughout the film relate to such a theme.
One means by which such innocence is emphasized is by way of lighting. The first diagetic scene in the film shows a starry background, superimposed upon which is the softly-lightened figure of Cooper. In a dissolve, she is temporarily replaced by the equally-lit heads of five children, their heads eagerly looking forward or upward against a top-level light before they dissolve back to Cooper. The soft frontal lighting which accentuates Cooper’s face at various points in the film, intended for when Cooper looks upward, makes for low contrast in order to show her vigilant relation to the equally-lit children under her tutelage. In contrast, Powell’s lighting largely defaults to hard side lighting, creating a high contrast to his profile which highlights the impermanence and looseness of his public facade.
Another outstanding aspect which is the choice of character facial posture. Most of the children in the film reflect the idealized innocence of children. In comparison, the posture of John, the lead child character of the film, is always ridged at the brow, his eyes serious and perceptive, in stark contrast to his sister Pearl, who is usually more reflective of other, fresh-faced children in the film; only later in the film does Pearl reflect John’s facial disposition, her own original disposition being significantly subdued by the progression of events. Henry, notably, is also stern, imposing and stone-faced, lacking the softness or quaintness of other characters in the film, but with the sort of direct gaze which he shares with John. Cooper, the savior of the John and Pearl, is a mix of these two contrasts: often visibly serious and soured in her lips, while exuding a softness in her wizened cheeks and up-tilt head which is accentuated by the lighting of her face.
The activities and speed of movement in which the characters engage at various times during the film are further contrasts which delineate character dispositions in relation to the personality traits of the characters. Most of the children in the film are depicted as often playing with toys or in open areas, and the majority of adults in the film are shown as enjoying their own economic pursuits, be it the grizzled Birdie Steptoe’s fishing or the cheery, busybodied Icey Spoon’s canning. In contrast, Powell’s slow, domineering figure shows little excitement or bodily business except for either his occasional exposition of speechmaking or his momentary strenuous outburts of anger and lust.
Eye contact between characters is also of particular importance. The pivotal scene in which a leering Powell lingers in the background while Cooper sits in the foreground, both singing “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms”, is punctuated by the fact that Cooper, her face showing a vigilant and defiant reflection of the moment’s intensity, absolutely refuses to look in the direction of Powell. Likewise, the camera does not show whether or not Powell is looking in the direction of Cooper through the window, only switching between the furthest-away shot of Powell including the foreground featuring Cooper and the shot over the shoulder of Powell of the house; the scene has the effect of rendering Powell faceless, dehumanizing him into an idealized archetype of terror.
The props in the film help to accentuate the fragility of innocence in the characters. John and Pearl floating down the river at night visually depict the uncertain nature of their journey, as the turbulent, ceaselessly moving river water is, at times, heavily emphasized while the boat floats carrying the two children from frame to frame. The spiderweb which appears in the foreground as the characters float in the background underneath exemplifies the terror which threatens to ensnare the two.
In conclusion, the numerous visual features in the film prop up the theme of innocence and naivete by both setting an incremental visual contrast and blending contrasting visual elements in the depiction of characters who are less reflective of the theme. Most of the children of the film are most reflective of the core theme, while adults, ranging from the too-trusting Willa to the suspicious John to the avaricious Harry Powell, show various visual reactions to the same which are accentuated by choices of camera position, lighting, eye contact, kinesis and prop placement. The theme is carried from beginning to end by such contrasts to leave an impressive impact upon the viewer’s perception regarding the perceived necessity or paucity of such innocence in the characters who, visibly, possess it the least.
