Skip to main content

Человек с кино-аппаратом (Man With A Movie Camera)

Director: Dziga Vertov
Year: 1929
Runtime: 1 hr 7 min
Source: Amazon Video

Wikipedia

Kyle Kallgren's Video Analysis

Notable for: Being one of the most critically acclaimed silent films (although not at the time of release).  It was voted the 8th best film of all time by Sight and Sound in 2012, and the best documentary of all time a few years later.

Critics respond to many things about the film, including but not limited to:
  • Putting the act of film-making front and center, including the editing process (here undertaken by Vertov's wife).  Previously the task of editing was considered secondary to artistic vision.
  • The invention or innovation (there is some debate here) of many editing techniques, including split screen, stop or slow motion, and double exposure. Vertov wanted his audience to know that this was not magic but a mechanical science.
  • Vertov's radical belief in the power of cinema to create a communal, universal perspective on the world, independent of any authoritarian (read: directorial) vision.  His faith in technology to guide us to the betterment of our species is the very definition of modernism, and that makes Vertov's film the culmination of the "city symphony" movement (films like Manhatta and Nothing But Time).
Verdict: Devoid of historical context, MWAMC still makes for a fun watch, since its fast pacing dispels most of the boredom that usually attaches to such experimental works.  It's a much more joyous work than I was expecting, especially after the industrial nightmare that is The Eleventh Year.  There are still moments that revel in the joining of man and machine, but that impulse is just one of many competing ideas.  There's a lot of humor, and even eroticism, in this film.

For me, the most interesting aspect of Vertov's philosophy is how it compares to modern technological utopianism, currently shattered in the ruins of our realization that social media is a prison.  Vertov's vision came true in many ways, the least of which being that everyone is a man with a movie camera.

Best paired with:  Knausgaard's anti-fiction fiction provides an interesting humanist counterpoint to Vertov's.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Killers

  The Killers  uses up every noir cliche that had developed by this time - the detective story with flashbacks from Laura , the insurance investigator from Double Indemnity, the seductive femme fatale from Gilda - but somehow manages to feel wholly original. I thought that I'd grow weary of noirs by this point, but they are getting better, and there's no doubt that it's a fun genre, if there's not always much going under the pristine surface. There's some tremendous acting, and I unabashedly love the opening scene with the titular killers - the only part that seems to have been actually adapted from the Hemingway short story (Ernest himself was nevertheless a fan) - but the ending doesn't really work. It's a bit easier to follow than The Big Sleep, but it has a few too many twists for what is ultimately a pretty straightforward story without any real morals. Still, I have to recommend it, and it would definitely be up there in my list of best noirs.

Fétiche Mascotte (The Mascot)

Director: Ladislas Starevich Year: 1933 Run-time: 26 min Source: Youtube Notable For : The second animated short on the list from 1933 is this stop-motion piece from the Polish-Russian film-maker Ladislas Starevich.  Stop-motion is almost as old as cinema itself (Starevich had been innovating since 1912).  The craft here is as good as any modern film, and Starevich's twisted imagination is on full display, with dolls and household objects coming to life in a dark version of Toy Story.  For animation fans, it almost goes without saying that Starevich was an influence on Jan Svankmajer's work much later. Verdict :  Every frame is a bizarre delight. There didn't seem to be an overarching plan to this work (indeed, it's possible that The Mascot  is an amalgamation of several shorter films featuring the same dog character), and so the film veers from one strange scene to the next, with much of the second half taking place in some kind of tchotchke hell governe...

A Trip to the Moon

Director: Georges Méliès Year: 1902 Seeing the painstakingly restored hand-colored print of A Trip to the Moon, in a literally mind-numbing 14 frames per second, makes it utterly clear that cinema is and has always been witchcraft. Every frame of this short feels bursting with magic, and even watching it on a modern TV in a space age that would have blown the mind of any of the actors of this film, you're left thinking "How did they do that?".