THE IMMErsive ART:
CAN CINEMA EXIST WITHOUT THE CAMERA?
Films wouldn’t be possible without the camera; the two are codependent, relying upon one another in the art form. This is the assumption we enter movie theaters with: that the camera is the sole reason this form of entertainment has come to exist. This has some merit, most movies you watch, or maybe even all the films you’ve seen, have included a camera in some manner. Since pioneer filmmakers the Lumiére Brother’s invention of the first utilizable camera, or the coined “cinematographe," in 1895, this has been the status quo of the cinematic world. This film series aims to reconsider this convention and make way for a greater understanding of the spectator’s role in an audience. Cinema can exist without the camera. It is reliant upon more crucial elements.
Of course, when addressing this question, we are tempted to use animation and CGI as a dominant explanation for cinema’s independence from the camera. There is a film in the series that fits this category, but a simple refutation such as this is not very beneficial to advancing your view on cinema as a whole. Animated films, though independent from cameras and reality, seeks to emulate the limitations of a camera. This is seen in movies with incredible animation, like Pixar’s Toy Story 4, where several shots are designed to replicate the existence of a camera in this digital world. Instead, this series will focus on films that rely not essentially on a camera, but rather immersion.
Viewing a film is far more psychological than we’d like to consider. Yes, we watch movies to entertain ourselves. We like an excuse to order soft drinks and devour popcorn. We keep returning to theaters because we love stories. The truth is that we spend a lot of time in front of a screen because we enjoy experiencing a story as someone else. This is evident in two subconscious neurological laws: the “mirror rule” and the “success rule”. The mirror rule states that we, as viewers and people, mirror what we see when encountering a stimulus. This is why when we see a movie’s protagonist hold back tears, we can’t help but hold back our own if the narrative is effective. The success rule is when we reacting to stimulus by engaging in the “do what has worked” mentality. This is why when we watch a chase scene we might hunch forward and our pupils may dilate, or why we scream or jolt in response to a jump-scare; the scream alerts for help, the jolt is a fight or flight response in action. Subconsciously we may relate to a character more than we think, replicating their emotions and responding to the situations they’re in as if we were experiencing them.
Obviously, cinema isn’t solely reliant on a camera; sound plays a monumental role in the audience’s viewing experience. We empathize and live through characters through a soundtrack. If we hear upbeat music in a major key without a moving image, we’d likely assume the character it’s associated with is happy. When we hear a lone violin playing a sorrowful melody, we can assume a character is experiencing sadness. Through music, we experience the emotions of a character without having to see them or have the film outright tell you, “aww, the protagonist is sad!” We start to live in the world, or the mind, of a character, especially when voiceovers and narrations are put to use.
Finally, atmosphere is everything when it comes to having a fulfilling viewing experience. The power of the theater, without a doubt, is the meditative darkness and the towering projection screen. There’s a wonderful quote from an avid moviegoer french woman. She describes her cinematic experience as, “In the theatre I am always I, but in cinema, I dissolve into all things and beings.” What she references is this unmatchable quality of a movie theater: its ability to evoke a lowered state of consciousness. The darkness doesn’t allow you to engage in stimulus from your immediate environment, and the screen’s immensity fills most - if not all- of your view. This allows us to experience the film’s reality more than our own.
It’s important to note a few things before watching this set of films. First, there will be films that use a camera. They have been included because of their significance to the above qualities described. Second, some of these films are avant-garde, and may not be what you’ve typically associated with a cinematic experience. The criteria for the works selected are as follows: the film must either not use a camera as its driving creative voice, must be immersive in a manner that the viewer feels as though they are the character, or show the impact of this immersion. We call upon you to be open-minded and try to experience these films rather than just watch them. Allow yourself to “dissolve” into the story world. Allow yourself to be someone else for the duration of the series, you’ll be surprised at what you find.
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
(2018)
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, an abstract multi-dimensional take on the beloved superhero, will be the only animated film you’ll be watching in this series. There have been several philosophical debates regarding the cinematic integrity of animation, that is to say, can an animated film be considered cinema? Bob Persichetti and Peter Ramsey’s latest installment of the Spider-Man franchise seems to answer this question, as its story beats, characters, and style are remarkable; IMDb lists it as the 65th highest rated film on the site, surpassing films like “Clockwork Orange” and “Citizen Kane.” Ratings aside, the
comic-book-like animation design makes for a unique, emotional, cinematic experience. Thus, this film serves as an example of cinema without a camera’s inclusion. Moreover, though many animated movies try to replicate and reproduce shots that would be done with a camera, Spider-Verse takes a departure from this form. You’ll see several sequences that are incredible and are, frankly, nearly impossible to capture from reality. Enjoy being a part of this comic-book world for a bit; there’s nothing else like it.
Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat (1895)
Audiences are said to have leapt out of their seats in fear, closing their eyes and clenching their fists; they believed the train was actually approaching them. They had no choice but to subconsciously operate through the “success rule;” we’re conditioned to flee from a destructive locomotive if it’s hurtling towards us. While watching this short, try to experience what 19th-century viewer’s experienced. Immerse yourself just as they were forced to.
You’ll find this Lumière brothers film to be short, sweet, and simple. It has little to no substance in its 50-second runtime. It’s just a train pulling into a station, yet it is rumored to have caused quite a stir in theaters. The Lumière brothers, having just invented the cinematographe, or what we’d call the portable camera and projector today, released several shorts displaying their pioneering efforts in cinema, one of these shorts being “Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat.” Cinema was, of course, a new art form in the late 19th century, so when audiences sat in a darkened theater unsure what to expect, they were terrified, for a train was rapidly approaching them through the screen.
Fight Club
(1999)
David Fincher’s “Fight Club” is by no means an avant-garde film, you’ve likely heard of it before. Featuring actors Edward Norton and Brad Pitt, this film is a classic. Norton’s unnamed character meets Pitt’s Tyler Durden as they launch an underground fight club. This film illustrates the power of the voice-over through the narration of our identity-less protagonist. During your viewing, you will see the story world through the Narrator’s eyes; his perspective will become your perspective; his reveries, your own. You can substitute his anonymity with your own perception of self. The style and plot mirror the viewer’s experience to film; embracing the idea of being someone else. Pay attention to the Narrator’s motivations, they reflect much of what a lowered state of consciousness entails in a film-watching setting. And when you're watching this film, remember these rules:
The first rule of watching “Fight Club” is: you must embrace being the Narrator for a couple hours.
The second rule of watching “Fight Club” is: you MUST embrace being the Narrator for a couple hours.
The third rule of watching “Fight Club” is: if someone yells “stop!”, goes limp, or taps out, the fight is over. Enjoy.
Sherlock Jr (1924)
Buster Keaton, actor and director of "Sherlock Jr," is like no other. Apart from Charlie Chaplin, Keaton (known for doing his own stunts) invented physical comedy. A writer of films that are wonderfully amusing while still capable of achieving emotional depth and profundity, this film might just be some of his best work. Keaton, playing a theater projectionist who dreams of being a world-class detective, seems to have created this work to serve as his love letter to film. He explores the effect cinema has on its viewers and how it allows us to become whatever we desire all due to the lowered-state of consciousness we experience in theaters. Watch this not so adept, run of the mill dreamer fall asleep on the job, only to live out his greatest fantasies through the screen and learn from its characters. Not only will "Sherlock Jr" show you just how impactful cinema is upon its viewers, but it's sure to leave you smiling as well.
L'Homme Atlantique (1981)
“You will forget. You will forget that this is you. I believe it can be done. You will also forget the camera. But above all, you will forget that this is you. You.”
A french narration is the first thing you’ll hear from this esoteric film. You’ll see only black. Marguerite Duras’ film “L’Homme Atlantique” (The Atlantic Man) embodies exactly what this film series seeks to describe: the detachment of self that is inherent to cinema. Consider this brilliant work as your indoctrination into the camera-less cinema. While a camera is used in this narrative, where you are the protagonist, it’s used sparingly. The camera, in fact, contributes the least amount of substance to Duras’ drama when compared to the omnipotent narrator and sounds of the Atlantic coast. Watch this film and do as Duras instructs. Immerse yourself in the darkness. Allow yourself to dissolve, and experience cinema as it should be.
Blue (1993)
Derek Jarman's "Blue" serves as a beautiful example of the immersive quality of cinema without the use of a camera. Jarman, who was diagnosed with AIDs, was prescribed a medication that ultimately resulted in the deterioration of his eyesight. His once-normal vision became clouded by the color blue; it was as if blue filters were placed over his pupils. Day by day, Jarman's vision worsened, and with each passing moment, he could only reflect on one thing: this sole contemplative color. "Blue's" 75 minute run time includes just this color, you'll find that nothing else fills the screen. Accompanied by haunting sounds, music, narration, and poetry, you will see exactly what Jarman experienced in his final days, completely immersed in the existentialism that accompanied him on his death bed. This film is a pinnacle model of empathetic viewership; you will feel like Jarman, no camera necessary.
NOTICE
Due to the global Covid-19 crisis, this film series has been indefinitely postponed. Although public screenings are not possible during this time, we here at the Michaud Film Collective encourage you to use your quarantine time wisely and watch the above collection in the comforts of your home.
Stay safe and feel free to share your thoughts on this series below. We'd love to discuss your thoughts on the six films.