Date: Sun, 16 Jul 1995 15:15:52 +0000 From: Jay_Craig-AT-BAYLOR.EDU Subject: Short Cuts Back to Altman... Malgosia wrote: "The credit sequence of Short Cuts uses the med-fly spraying motif to establish an overarching link between the disparate threads. The spraying image plays the role of an establishing shot, but differently; it is not _we_ who are permitted to see the spatial relationship between the threads. Instead, we are shown an image of _others_ who presumably see the relationship, and see it from sort of military perspective....The threads are linked through the _sky_, rather than the earth, and a very instrumentalized sky, at that; a panopticon." I agree that the med-fly sequence takes the form of an establishing shot. However, I think the "establishment" taking place is causal, rather than epistemic. Though the military imagery is there (low flying copters, "war on the med-fly" declared over the news, people panicking and taking cover), I don't perceive the helicopters (or "instumentalized" sky) as knowing. I guess--in Deleuzian terms--I'd say the helicopters (and sky) lack faceicity. They seem neither reflexive nor intensive. In fact, one of the helicopter pilots is merely another character established in the sequence. Though there is certainly an expression of limited omniscience (limited, because we don't clearly broach the "private" subjective), I would say that it derives from the third-person--the auteur/audience--rather than from an internal second-person--a pilot, deployment of technology, or animistic nature. Like I said, I think the establishment is causal. We have a set of characters whose lives/stories overlap and interconnect. Whereas in many traditional narratives (i.e., an SAS'), a character may enter, confront in active duality, resulting in an altered situation, this rarely happens in Altman. Rather, intentional or even accidental acts take on significance and effect change to extents relative to a set of local characters whose constituency is always in flux. In other words, it takes _a lot_ to affect "everyone." In Short Cuts, we open with med-flys, a natural force which has causally impinged on everyone (thus serving as a motif for establishing the character set). The film closes with the earthquake, another "global" cause which intrudes on the character set. The rest of the film, however, is filled with provisional, temporary, and accidental causes. As Malgosia wrote, "a marginal character of the current episode is permitted to distract the film and become the focus of the next episode or shot." Though this clearly happens with characters, who vacillate from primary to secondary importance (see C1, 206-9 on Altman), it also happens with "causes." A hard-working baker who gets shafted makes taunting phone-calls--a minor, even justifiable, thing. To the parents of the dying child, however, it is cruel, shameful, tormenting. When the waitress hits the child, she thinks no damage has been done; the child then dies, apparently by a callous hit-and-run. The characters meet, not because of some shared background, but because of the multiplicity of possible human relations: familial, emploment contracts, seating arrangement at concerts or in clubs, in public restaurants, in the street, on TV, etc. There is nothing novel in the way causation is treated in the film. To use common terms, narrative causation is determined by a "but for" cause (i.e., the effect would not have occurred, "but for" this particular cause), which must also be proximate (in order to exclude extraneous, remote, or narratively insignificant causes). Altman merely widens the scope of acceptability for "proximity" of cause; he is willing to follow the unconsciousness of the limo patron, to the chauffer getting coffee in the interim, to his seeing the fishermen taunt his wife, to her impatient reaction and rush to get home, to the running down of the child, to the suicide of the cellist,.... This, of course, results in a more fragmented and wandering narrative. (Following chaos theory, any film striving to detail a complete tracing of cause, absent restrictions based on relevance or proximity, would demand an infinite reel of film, directorial omniscience and omnipotence.) Tracing the remote repercussions of an accidental or chance cause has been done before, both in literature and film (e.g., Bradbury or "Brazil"). And Altman doesn't really question the traditional notion of causality, as does Resnais at times. However, the accidental and shifting, local, perspectival nature of causality throughout Short Cuts is "bookended" by instances of more global causes. The effect of this montage, I suppose, is to show the "smallness" and unpredicatability of individual action. I'm not sure it would take most people three hours to get that point across, but Altman is no stranger to accusations of tediousness. Montage in the frame: watch the scene where the doctor and painter are discussing her past adultery. Altman frames the characters with paintings reflecting some aspect of the discussion. The doctor is sitting next to a painting of himself locked in an expression between fury and uproarious laughter. The painter moves from beside a painting of a nude woman with an obnoxiously forced smile to a set of three paintings--two men and a woman--when she confesses to the adultery. Shot to shot: Obviously the editting was planned before the film was shot (i.e., Altman is a heavy-handed director or, if you prefer, "auteur"). In countless transitions marked by straight cuts, there is a continuity established by dialogue, an object, atmosphere, or motion. The painter talking on the phone cuts to the cop's wife on the phone; the cop is warned not to let the dog out or he'll get run over, and then cut to the boy leaving the house to get run over; he gets hit and tells the woman tomorrow is his birthday, cut to pictures of birthday cakes in the bakery. This takes place between most of the shots in the film. What purpose does it serve? I really don't know. Since most of these mini-continuities are inserted between clear changes of local, characters, and lighting, I don't know what they're there for. Obviously they excite critics and make Altman proud of himself, but perhaps there's some real reason beyond simple exhibitionism. Sound: Though Deleuze doesn't discuss sound editting much, there is a lot going on in Short Cuts. Two, sometimes three, conversations will be going on at once, mixed up or down to direct the viewers' attention. Conversations can be heard through closed windows and across streets or crowds. Cacophony is orchestrated by overlaying children, dogs, birds (notice the same types and patterns of bird calls in the background throughout the movie; I guess they were short on stock bird calls), autos, and voices. The background noise will drop to a murmur so characters can share a conversation without raising their voices (if dramatic effect demands). Sounds will overlap from scene to scene. (Notice how many consecutive scenes in diverse locales hear the same ambulance, at the same volume, with complete continuity; the ambulance sound originates from a video monitor at the TV station. Or listen to the cellist play with complete continuity from her evening concert through a cut while the helicopters are landing in daylight.) There's probably more to "listen" for in Short Cuts than there is to "look" for. Straight Cuts: I'd have to watch it again to make sure, but to my recollection, EVERY change from shot to shot was executed by a straight cut. No fades, no wipes, no dissolves, no jump cuts. Straight cuts are traditionally "intra-scenic" devices, used to maintain spatial and temporal continuity. Bunuel and Resnais, of course, used straight cuts between scenes or dream sequences, playing on the ambiguity created by the device (misleading continuity). In Short Cuts, time passes, presumably--at least more than three hours. However, the "lost" time is never signaled by traditional devices--a fade to black or dissolve. That is to say, it feels as if everything happens sequentially and in complete continuity within the three hours. You never get the impression that "Oh, it's much later in the evening now." That is the natural effect of using only straight cuts between scenes. Using only straight cuts is surely a decision Altman made. (Those familiar with editing know that you don't "accidentally" edit a film that way. To do so would be much like writing a paper without paragraph breaks or a musical composition without rests.) Why? Was he trying to create an impression of time, despite using devices typically used to establish continuity? If so, I think he failed. The only impression of time created was a long, continuous, rather fastidious three-hours (and a numbing of the buttocks). What else could he have been up to? Maybe he thought he'd make a sacrifice to narrative coherence by playing on the film's title. If anyone has ideas on this, I'd like to hear them. Maybe someone has seen or read an interview with Altman where he discusses this aspect of the film. Zooms: Instead of using the typical Altman tracking shot, this film is filled with literally "short" cuts. There are no really long takes and no depth of field scenes. Strangely, whenever there is a decision to be made between dollying and zooming, the latter is chosen. Sometimes this is forced (e.g., when he is shooting through a window pane or at an extreme distance). Usually it isn't. Though the zoom can be very "analytic" (good for faceification), it is done so often and, at times, so clumsily (stuttering in mid-zoom, as if the motor has a bad belt; starting and stopping suddenly; leaving characters far enough from background objects that perspective is thrown out of kilter, etc.) in Short Cuts that there must be some reason for it. Maybe the budget was too tight, so they couldn't get dollies or good cranes. Why, why, why so many zooms? Just a start. JSC --- from list seminar-10-AT-lists.village.virginia.edu ---
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