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Clever Kids: The Depiction of Precocious Children in David Slade's Hard Candy.

As a child I got a thrill out of watching movies that featured kids outsmarting adults. I could never forget the ingenuity of Macaulay Culkin’s character in Home Alone (1990) or how his spectacularly booby trapped house and quick thinking foiled the plans of two hardened (albeit dimwitted) criminals taking advantage of the Christmas season. I also loved watching Lindsay Lohan take on a dual role as twin sisters swapping lives and sabotaging their parents’ affairs in The Parent Trap to the point where I had to watch the movie almost every weekend.

With the exception of films like Home Alone and The Parent Trap—family friendly movies whose plot focuses on crafty children—most films give children a secondary role. Sometimes children bridge the emotional gap between two prospective lovers in romantic films; other times children are seen but not actually heard, serving no greater purpose than to be part of a family unit. For this reason, even now as an adult, I am still drawn to films that show children asserting their authority or even films that capture the brilliance and a child’s awareness of the world. A film that truly alters the balance of authority between child and adult is David Slade’s Hard Candy (2005).

Hard Candy, a film about a 14-year-old vigilante who confronts and psychologically tortures an unsuspecting man, whom she believes to be a pedophile, demonstrates a non-adult character taking charge and behaving in an atypically mature manner. The film plays on the audience’s preconceived notions about children being helpless without supervision. When I first watched the movie (having been completely clueless about Hard Candy’s premise), I assumed I was going to be sitting through a film about some unfortunate girl enduring a traumatic experience at the disposal of the villainous pedophile Jeff. The opening scene plays up the young girl Hayley’s supposed naiveté in order to make her control and maturity more effective later in the film.

The façade of Hayley Stark’s innocence begins with a close up of an inappropriate chat dialog between a 39-year-old photographer Jeff aka “lensman319” and Hayley. Neither character is seen but the nature of the conversation is cause for concern. Hayley’s suggestively promiscuous yet childish screen name, “thonggrrl14” coupled with her flirtatious comments make her seem like the stereotypical teenage girl who carelessly draws attention to her age while trusting a complete stranger with her inner thoughts and personal information. While reading  lensman319’s texts insisting that he and Hayley “finally hook up” and Hayley’s suggestion that he “film [her] with [his] vidoecamera” before “doing it,” I could not stop myself from wondering if she either had ever seen Primetime or was just plain stupid. Needless to say, after seeing Hayley’s character for the first time, I was thoroughly convinced that she would fall into the trap of

In the subsequent scene, the first meeting of Hayley and Jeff, Hayley is the epitome of puerility, and Jeff the calculating and personable pedophile.  If I wasn’t already disturbed by this little girl so eager to get in a stranger’s car and drive to the man’s house alone, the intimacy established with back-to-back close-ups of Hayley’s and Jeff’s faces made me extremely uncomfortable.  The first shot of Hayley is a close-up in which she turns around; her soft features, round face, round eyes as wide as a baby’s, and slightly confused expression as she asks, “Jeff?” give evidence to her apparent youth and naiveté. A close up of Jeff follows; his smiling face and open demeanor are inviting to Hayley even as he inspires suspicion in the viewer. Even though Jeff is rather attractive –with his stylish hair, chiseled face, and boyish charm— his predatory looks, the way he undresses Hayley with his eyes, and his wolfish grin make him seem like a lecherous old creep.

The cuts between Hayley and Jeff ‘s close-ups reveal the difference in their height since Hayley’s head is almost always tilted up and Jeff’s is always at a downward slant.  A long shot of Jeff’s tall figure is a startling contrast to Hayley’s petite frame and size.  This difference in stature symbolizes Jeff’s authority and draws more attention to Hayley’s childishness. Just as Jeff typically dominates the frame in his non-close-ups, he seems to be entirely in control of the situation. As is typical of his type, he engages Hayley in conversation making sure to only speak about topics that interest her, boy-bands and teen novels—things that would be trivial to any grown man. For a brief moment a flier with the face of a smiling girl and the word MISSING come into focus, standing out on the wall just opposite of where Hayley and Jeff decide to sit. The appearance of the missing girl’s photo led me to believe that a similar fate would befall Hayley. Everything suggested Hayley’s eventual demise, and I had no way of knowing how wrong I was until everything takes a strange turn at Jeff’s home.  

After Hayley manages to get Jeff drunk in his own home, her demeanor becomes sadistic. With Hayley’s childishness sentiment exchanged for a cold mask of indifference and sadism, Jeff becomes the target of the viewer’s sympathy.  While the close-ups are still a factor in this scene, Hayley’s eyes are no longer round and her mouth becomes a thin disapproving line, proof that she was putting on a face the entire time in the café. Having tied Jeff up in a chair she insults him for believing she would be dumb enough to “chase him to the next drink.” When Hayley says, "Just because a girl can pretend to be a woman doesn't mean she's ready to be a woman," she let's both Jeff and the viewer know that her logic is sound and she's aware of how things should be. Her verbiage becomes more complex and less moronic as she explains her true intention to discover what secrets Jeff may be hiding in his home.

 Hayley proves her intelligence as she admits to intentionally behaving like a trusting young girl, who would foolishly believe that “anyone could know so much about her.” The balance of power has clearly changed. The few long shots, show Jeff—his height stolen by the low position of the chair—now appearing shorter than Hayley who stands confidently before him with her hands on her hips.  This reversal of stature is also apparent in the close-ups with  a discombobulated Jeff, staring up at Hayley with a confused expression and Hayley looking down at Jeff.  Jeff’s growing uncertainty and anxiety comes out in his voice as he asks Hayley, “What are you going to do to me?” Overwhelmed by the drastic change in events, I couldn’t help but see the irony in Hayley’s response, “Anything I want!” With Hayley’s dubious nature revealed, and the ambiguity of Jeff’s involvement with the missing girl, Jeff becomes the prey and Hayley the predator. 

 

The Role of Character Perspective and Conceptual Continuity In Rob Marshall's Chicago and Nine

 I always wondered why some people find it so hard to enjoy musicals either on the stage or on the screen. Such people would have the film director extract the meaning and plot from a musical in order to turn it into a film devoid of dance and song. I have encountered several individuals whose aversion to musical interludes derives from an inability to reconcile singing and dancing with their fixed views of cinematic reality. I’m more interested in how directors choose to intertwine the show tunes with the narratives. I say that getting hung up on whether the characters in musicals realize they're divulging plot in song is as ridiculous as asking if characters in a film notice that there's a guy following them around with a movie camera. There are film directors who endeavor to accommodate those that would ask such nonsensical questions, using creative concepts to justify sudden outbursts of song. In both of his musical films: Chicago, a film about a wannabe vaudeville star, and Nine a movie about a filmmaker in desperate need of inspiration, Rob Marshall  portrays the musical interludes as figments of the protagonists’ imaginations in order to make sense of the narrative . Despite having similar concepts, song and story are entwined more successfully in Chicago than in Nine. Whereas musical numbers are seamlessly incorporated into the storyline of Chicago, the musical performances in Nine seem somewhat detached from the narrative.

The opening shot of Chicago, a slow zoom into an extreme close up of Roxie Hart’s eyes makes it clear that the her whimsical perspective drives the plot. With the first scene taking place in a jazz club, Roxie wistfully watches Velma Kelly’s sultry stage performance in her medium close up. As the camera cuts back and forth between Roxie’s longing looks and Velma Kelly’s vaudeville act, the camera’s close proximity to Roxie’s face and her transfixed gaze signify Roxie’s single-minded obsession with the glamor of vaudevillian fame. A hard cut from Velma’s captivating performance to the familiar extreme close up of Roxie’s unblinking eyes proceeds the shot in which Roxie begins to sing “All That Jazz,” literally taking Velma Kelly’s place on stage. This brief demonstration of Roxie’s fantasy reveals Roxie’s desire to be on the stage and sets a precedent for scenes that interweave song and plot throughout the film.  

As Guido contemplates how to begin his film, the film studio transforms into a projection of his creative mind. An extreme long shot displays Guido and his cameras facing the silhouette of a set elaborately decorated with stone arches. Symbolizing a moment of inspiration, one of Guido’s favorite actresses (Claudia) appears to him and gives him a kiss, after which the set is no longer dark but gradually filling with color. A warm yellow glow highlights and gives definition to the arches before women adorned in sparkling, seductive costume appear like set pieces in the stage of Guido’s imagination. The majestic traveling shots of the set lit spectacularly with a mesmerizing blue light and the presence of these women juxtaposed with a close up of Guido and his camera signify the evolution of Guido’s creativity. While the image of the camera clearly draws the connection between Guido’s musical fantasies and his filmmaking aspirations, transitions between song and action in later scenes are not as invisible as those in Chicago.

            The musical performances in Chicago do not intruded on the dialogue but tend to blend the concept of the stage with the reality of the narrative.  The scene that best demonstrates the perfect coexistence of musical performance and plot is the one in which Velma desperately pleads with Roxie to perform on stage with her if they both become acquitted. When Velma Kelly begins her appeal to an indifferent Roxie, a light shines in through the window, resembling a spot light as it follows Velma. The appearance of the “spotlight” in such a non-theatrical space (the prison recreation room) indicates that Roxie believes her current surroundings are a stage and that Velma’s attempts to befriend her are one big act. After Velma notices Roxie’s obvious disinterest, all signs of the recreational room fade into darkness; the spotlight hones in on Velma’s face while her dialogue gradually develops into song. The disembodied voice of the figurative Master of Ceremonies gives a title to Velma’s “Act of Desperation” before her prison garb is exchanged for a more vaudevillian costume and the recreation room is filled with theatrical neon lights. Still sitting neutrally at a table in the center of the room, Roxie becomes audience to Velma’s theatrics. Though Velma and the gloomy rec room have transformed, recognizable elements of the prison remain (like the balcony leading to the inmates’ cells). These familiar elements and Roxie’s position at the table remind the viewer that she and Velma have not left the prison, and that the musical performance is Roxie’s own theatrical interpretation of reality.

            Unlike those in Chicago some of the musical performances in Nine appear disjointed from the narrative despite their obvious relation to the plot. Even though “Be Italian” is a powerful, high-energy song that gives insight into Guido’s personality and issues with women, its placement in the scene seems unnatural. Before the number begins Guido recalls when he and a small group of little boys pay the local prostitute, Saraghina to give them a private show on the beach near her hut. The music begins as Saraghina accepts the money, but she neither sings nor speaks at any point and time in Guido’s physical memory; the only time Saraghina speaks is on Guido’s mental “stage.” Whereas Velma Kelly’s words to Roxie led into a song, the lack of dialogue from Saraghina fails to bridge the gap beween the spectacular vocal performance and Guido’s childhood recollection. A shot of Saraghina verbalizing her advice in the memory before the start of the song could have solidified the connection between the two spaces. This would not be necessary if the scene were to merge the location of the main action with Guido’s fictional world instead of maintaining two distinctly separate spaces: the film set and the beach. The contrast between the theatrical space and the realistic memory becomes even more apparent with the noticeable desaturation of Guido’s memory; the vibrant red costumes and dazzling lights seem to clash with the grayscale flashback. The viewer ultimately feels as if the “Be Italian” musical number (like other songs in Nine) is merely inserted but not interwoven with the entire scene. Such scenes in Nine, which lack the seamless combination of action and song, detract from the beauty of the film while also creating an emotional distance between the audience and the characters successfully avoided in Chicago.

 

Revenge, Wrong that Appeals to a Sense of Right in Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds

Through the use of exaggerated violence and blaringly eccentric characters Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds spawns a hypothetical world in which an American guerilla unit called the Basterds mercilessly executes WWII Nazis in retribution for their heinous acts against European Jews. If anyone watches Inglourious Basterds expecting to see a historical account of WWII and the Holocaust then they have missed the point of the film entirely. The purpose of this film is not to educate but instead to bring satisfaction to anyone who has ever been disturbed by the atrocities of the Holocaust—for anyone who would have liked members of the Nazi party to receive a punishment one thousand times more severe than the vile acts committed against the Jewish people. The film’s opening scene incurs the audience’s sympathy and disdain in order to draw the audience into an elaborate tale of revenge, which allows viewers to indulge themselves in a desire for violent retribution outweighing the moral ambiguity of the Basterd’s brutality, the viewers’ instinct to respect humanity, and their tendency to revile human mutilation.

In the opening scene of Inglourious Basterds the brutal murder of Shosanna’s family and Colonel Landa’s despicable attitude toward Jews demonstrate the cruelty of the Nazi regime, creating a basis for the film’s theme of violent retribution. A beautiful panoramic view of Monsieur LaPedite’s small dairy farm begins the scene. The wide open space, copious amount of vibrant green grass, and multitude of grazing dairy cows make this shot a picture of freedom, serenity, and prosperity. Though everything about this picture seems perfectly balanced, the dairy farmer’s dark stone house is out of place in such a bright setting; its gloomy walls and shadowy doorway break the optimistic mood of the image, foretelling the impending doom of its hidden inhabitants.

The arrival of Colonel Landa a.k.a. the “Jew Hunter” also disrupts the serenity of the shot, signifying an end to freedom and tranquility as well as a precursor to death. Col. Landa’s black coat and dark green Nazi uniform make his approaching figure ominous amidst the cheerful landscape. Although the film does not show the German occupation of France in detail, Col. Landa’s unannounced and unwelcome presence symbolizes the invasion and the abolished independence, peace, and opulence of its Jewish citizens. The cut away shot to Col. Landa and LaPedite’s handshake, with Landa’s hand positioned firmly above the farmer’s, displays Landa’s domineering nature and suggests that Landa’s courteousness is an act. The change in location, brought about by Landa’s desire to get into LaPedite’s home, completely destroys the vitality of the scene as the green pastures and light are left outside the dreary abode.  When Col. Landa speaks, his smile and seemingly gracious demeanor cannot fool the audience when he clearly asserts his “pride” in his success as a Jew murderer and agrees with propaganda linking Jews to rats. During Colonel Landa’s elaborate speech about the imprecise cause of Jewish repulsiveness, his hat, adorned with a black band and skull, sits on the table, looming in the background and forewarning his eventual discovery and murder of the Dreyfuses hiding beneath the floorboards.

When the camera view slides down to reveal Shosanna and the rest of her family forced to “abandon dignity” under the floor, the audience is able to sympathize with the Dreyfuses and despise Landa even more for his insensitivity. The shallow depth of field in this medium shot with Shosanna in the foreground brings her helpless form in focus while the rest of her family are nothing but blurs in the background. The tightness of the shot, shallow space, and the close proximity of the family demonstrates how the Dreyfuses are trapped in their situation like animals uncomfortably quartered in a cage. Since viewers cannot prevent the Dreyfus’ demise at the hands of Col. Landa, they are as helpless as Shosanna who silences herself with her hand for fear of discovery. The clear focus on Shosanna makes her the film’s protagonist and also initiates a connection between her and the audience. The distorted view of the remaining Dreyfuses foreshadows their imminent deaths. When Col. Landa brings in his men for a surprise attack, the ominous music builds to a crescendo as bullets from the Nazis’ guns create holes in the floorboards, and a billowing cloud of woodchips obscures the audience’s view of the Dreyfus’ tragic end. While a close up of Shosanna’s terror-stricken face covered in her family’s blood as she hastily escapes the dairy farm is the only concrete evidence of the carnage, the image is a prevalent reminder of the Nazis’ ruthlessness. The sight of Col. Landa’s smug face at the scene’s end incites a need for vengeance. The “murder, intimidation, and terror” exhibited in the opening scene support the Basterd Lt. Aldoe Raine’s subsequent claims of Nazi inhumanity, convincing the audience that the Nazis deserve no mercy and “need to be destroyed.”

Ultimately, Inglorious Basterds speaks to viewer who shares Lt. Aldo Raine’s sentiment—that a Nazi should never be allowed to “take off  [their] uniform,”—but rather remain easily identifiable so that they may neither be absolved from blame nor able to escape the repercussions of their actions. As the film trailer’s typography purports the film is a war movie like no other because it allows the audience to indulge in thoughts of violence while maintaining a clear conscience. This is not a film for people who want to see the honorable heroics of its protagonists, or for people who want to woefully reflect on the horrors of the Holocaust. Why should viewers continue to endure the pitiful sight of innocent people tortured and dehumanized in concentration camps, when they can see the perpetrators of these crimes struck down and exterminated in a similar fashion? If the Basterds were honorable, they wouldn’t be “inglourious,” nor would their unethical actions reflect the viewer’s appetite for bloody justice, a craving that Inglorious Basterds satisfies like no other war film could.