Taking Care of Business
Time to play catch up, as the crush of the semester has prevented me from tending to things here at even the most minimal of levels. First things first: no more promises, except for that any and all contributions to be inconsistent. It seems that the moment I decide to go on a moderate hiatus, my online time opens up a bit more, and vice versa. Secondly, as another "official" declaration: Screenshot of the Day, as a specifically day to day entry, is no more. Unfortunately, the process became more tedious than expected, since, being unable to watch a movie every day, I quickly had to stretch myself in terms of remembering striking images (that were, in addition, in my DVD collection and ready to be captured). I'll post memorable shots when I have them, but once again, no promises.
One new review over at Slant Magazine, the pretty good and rather sublime J-pop flick Linda Linda Linda, now in limited release in New York. As expected, Ed just asked me to cover the henious looking Let's Go to Prison this weekend, so expect another linked review come Friday or Saturday. Should time allow over the next few days, I hope to put down some of my thoughts on some recent releases, including (roughly in order of my preference) Infamous, The Queen, The Prestige, Borat, and Babel.
Slant Magazine: Linda Linda Linda
In other news, Jim Emerson has been kind enough to link to me on his Scanners blog, and I imagine a good many of you reading this now are here thanks to him. A few posts down you will see my own intended effort at beginning a discussion not unlike his Opening Shots Project (to which I contributed an entry on Fight Club, which can be read here), this time centered around the importance (and examples of) the extended take. Some have contributed so far, and I encourage anyone will feelings on the topic to do the same (p.s. screenshots are darling as well, seeing as what I can provide is limited both by what is already in my collection and my next-to-nothing spending money for renting additional movies of choice). For now, I offer up two below, with accompanying descriptions and screenshots. Both are well known (again, limited DVD collection at my disposal), but are deservingly so, and worthy of the kind of analysis I'd like to foster more of.
I'm as of yet unsure as to what can exactly be called an "extended take"; instinct tells me one minute or more, but even so, I'm about to break that rule so as it is (my argument being that the nature of the scene may in effect make it seem longer than it actually is). So, if you're unsure as to whether or not something qualifies, submit it anyway (this includes sequences partially pieced together with CG work, such as Snake Eyes and War of the Worlds).
GoodFellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990)
Call it mindless adherence to cinematic canon, laziness, or a lack of imagination, but my first contribution to this little project of mine is the famous Copocabana sequence from Scorsese's 1990 masterpiece. At just over three and one-half minutes, it screams of the kind of shot used by a showy director, but Martin seemingly always knows just what pieces are necassary to complete his plethora like cinematic constructions.
P.S. Spoilers ahead.
By this point in the film, the viewer is already very much accustomed to the luxuries afforded by Henry Hill's lifestyle, but this sequence represents his future wife Karen's first experience with its elite offerings. Money drives this world, and the sequence plays like a perpetual outpouring of extravagance that Karen very quicky gets drunk off of. Beginning outside the club on the street, the camera follows them as they pass through the crowd waiting outside, downstairs through a basement entrance, through a maze-like kitchen, and into the main dining hall, where a table is promptly brought out for them right at the front of the stage.
This initial descent into the criminal underworld is masked by the benefits it affords, a necassary point to bear in mind when considering just how much GoodFellas documents Karen's downfall as it does Henry's.
One new review over at Slant Magazine, the pretty good and rather sublime J-pop flick Linda Linda Linda, now in limited release in New York. As expected, Ed just asked me to cover the henious looking Let's Go to Prison this weekend, so expect another linked review come Friday or Saturday. Should time allow over the next few days, I hope to put down some of my thoughts on some recent releases, including (roughly in order of my preference) Infamous, The Queen, The Prestige, Borat, and Babel.
Slant Magazine: Linda Linda Linda
In other news, Jim Emerson has been kind enough to link to me on his Scanners blog, and I imagine a good many of you reading this now are here thanks to him. A few posts down you will see my own intended effort at beginning a discussion not unlike his Opening Shots Project (to which I contributed an entry on Fight Club, which can be read here), this time centered around the importance (and examples of) the extended take. Some have contributed so far, and I encourage anyone will feelings on the topic to do the same (p.s. screenshots are darling as well, seeing as what I can provide is limited both by what is already in my collection and my next-to-nothing spending money for renting additional movies of choice). For now, I offer up two below, with accompanying descriptions and screenshots. Both are well known (again, limited DVD collection at my disposal), but are deservingly so, and worthy of the kind of analysis I'd like to foster more of.
I'm as of yet unsure as to what can exactly be called an "extended take"; instinct tells me one minute or more, but even so, I'm about to break that rule so as it is (my argument being that the nature of the scene may in effect make it seem longer than it actually is). So, if you're unsure as to whether or not something qualifies, submit it anyway (this includes sequences partially pieced together with CG work, such as Snake Eyes and War of the Worlds).
GoodFellas (Martin Scorsese, 1990)
Call it mindless adherence to cinematic canon, laziness, or a lack of imagination, but my first contribution to this little project of mine is the famous Copocabana sequence from Scorsese's 1990 masterpiece. At just over three and one-half minutes, it screams of the kind of shot used by a showy director, but Martin seemingly always knows just what pieces are necassary to complete his plethora like cinematic constructions.
P.S. Spoilers ahead.
By this point in the film, the viewer is already very much accustomed to the luxuries afforded by Henry Hill's lifestyle, but this sequence represents his future wife Karen's first experience with its elite offerings. Money drives this world, and the sequence plays like a perpetual outpouring of extravagance that Karen very quicky gets drunk off of. Beginning outside the club on the street, the camera follows them as they pass through the crowd waiting outside, downstairs through a basement entrance, through a maze-like kitchen, and into the main dining hall, where a table is promptly brought out for them right at the front of the stage.
This initial descent into the criminal underworld is masked by the benefits it affords, a necassary point to bear in mind when considering just how much GoodFellas documents Karen's downfall as it does Henry's.
"Every time I come here...every time, you two!"