There are three main questions that film scholars ask when watching, analyzing, and critiquing various films. These are:
1. What is film? (Theory)
2. What has film been? (Historicism) or what has film language been? (Semiotics)
3. What is the significance of this film and its relationship to others? (Criticism)
I will explore the first question as presented in Christopher Nolan’s “The Prestige”. This ties in very well with my screening notes for the film. I believe that Nolan’s views on film are expressed through a very important quote that is repeated throughout the film by Cutler (Michael Caine). In this quote, he says,
“Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call "The Prestige".”
The “magic trick” that he is speaking about is a very strong metaphor for film and the cinematic experience. Like the trick, most films are made up of three acts. In the first, a seemingly ordinary situation and set of characters are usually introduced by the end of the film you will realize they aren’t normal. In the second, this seemingly ordinary character, or characters, do something extraordinary or are faced with an extraordinary situation/conflict. In the third, everything is wrapped up and the viewer is left satisfied. If the film fails to settle the conflicts and situations that arise throughout its duration, then the audiences are taken aback and upset. Also, the film’s third act is usually the hardest to execute as is a trick’s. Just like a magic trick, many film goers don’t like to look for the secrets within a film, whether they be in regards to the film’s plot or production. They want to be fooled and taken along for the ride. Film itself is a form of magic and while many aspects of it can be explained and analyzed, it is hard to truly explain the feeling that getting engrossed in a good film can create. So, following this pattern of thought, Nolan likens himself and other filmmakers to magician’s catering to an audience (film goers). There is not just one scene or moment that this works to explain in the film, rather, it encompasses the film’s entire meaning and message about cinema.
I like the way that Jared linked the idea of the 3 acts of a magician’s performance to the composition of film. I’m going to focus on the ending in particular, which is compared to the “reappearance” of the object in a magic trick. Even though a magician can give us a satisfactory ending, we cannot assume that we have understood the intricacy of the trick performed. For instance, the trick of the canary’s disappearance is seemingly explained by its emergence from the magician’s hand, and we exclaim “ahh” because we’re glad the bird is alive – and we assume the magician somehow took the bird while patting down the cloth. But on a bigger scale, the film leaves several knots untied, and we can either question them or leave the theater, satisfied to know about the twin of Borden. For instance, how did Tesla’s invention work? Was it always the original Angier that stays alive? And, did Cutter participate in the murders of the duplicate Angiers? These question don’t seem to matter, because we’re interested in the trick of the Transformer and how Borden stayed alive in the end. But movies usually try to complete a storyline, because otherwise we would exit cursing the movie and warn our friends against it. But let’s consider if the ending isn’t there – the canary doesn’t come back, Borden kills Angier and he dies before being knowing the truth. We would be left stunned and speechless, but the movie still has so much to offer. The mood and style of the movie keep us on edge, eager to see the next move, such that when the score at the montage ends (near Borden’s hanging), we expected to see someone dead, but felt shocked when we saw a silent dungeon. One is nailed to the seat, unable to avert eyes from the rivalry of these brothers. Long before the ending is in sight, the film already established suspense, which is what this film is all about. However, as we habitually watch the film to see what the ending is like, we dwell too much on finality and resolution, and miss how it was done, particularly on the first viewing. Consequently, films can be appreciated on many levels of understanding. One could sigh with relief because the main secrets are told in the end. One could take the approach of some film critics, and believe that a film can exist without relying on a plotline, and be able to examine a literary or cinematic piece by disregarding how it finishes (the way some readers will read the end of a book first). Or, of course, take one of the many paths in between these two. But film is just so versatile, and even though it tends to follow the magician’s 3 acts, truthfully without obeying the third rule, the trick/idea is already out there.
ReplyDeleteHZ
Tesla's machine breaks the rules of physics, just as a story from Victorian England being viewed on film also breaks the rules of physics. The Prestige challenges us to examine why we are made uncomfortable by the former impossibility, yet unconsciously accept the latter.
ReplyDeleteVery few films explain the presence of the cameras which have apparently captured their story, and we the audience very rarely question our willing suspension of disbelief in this matter.
While The Prestige knocked me my socks the hell off, it still feels like a self-citing essay on film theory rather than an actual film. I think this is down to my own prejudiced need for a story world to retain internal consistency - so I get discomfited by films which set up the 'rules' by which the world in which they're set is governed, and then after the rules have been consolidated (shown to be consistent for long enough that we begin to assume/accept them unconsciously while watching) ... break their own rules. The Prestige has to do this in order to force us to confront our own inconsistencies, which is why I forgive it. But it still makes me a bit ... discomfited.
Hell though. Awesome work Nolans. I love you so hard.
:)