Tag Archives: Mobility

Revisiting Zbigniew Rybczynski’s Oh, I Can’t Stop!

 

When I am waiting for the short loading, I can still remember classmates comments on this film. Most of them suggested that what the camera represented could be a machine, smashing and swallowing everything on its way. They also appreciated the technique usage such as the sound and the deceptive long take and applied Gaze theory to this film. While they felt scared or haunted, I still got a sense of loneliness the second time watching it, not because I had a little bit different feelings than others, but because I got the same loneliness as the object which was represented by the camera. Compared to a machine is destroying other things, it is more likely to be a monster who is being chased, is going to be killed. If it is not a POV shot, the scene may be that a man without the face, or gruesome like Quasimodo, is escaping from the capture of a crowd of villains, but when he is close to or wants to turn to the people in front of him, they yell and run off. That’s why we get a lot of screams in the soundtrack; it belongs to a person in flight. Especially when I see that the “Quasimodo,” encountered with blockings, is heading any path without heeding which one is right, it is hard to keep myself out of resonance: the fear of the sophisticated environment, the fear of the future, and the inward fear of the fear itself. His behavior of destroying or hurting is from the instant to seek survival. It reminds me of a hot mobile gaming several years ago – Temple Run. (Fig.1.) If we cut out the bottom part of the cell phone screen, we will find that the scene is extremely familiar with Rybczynski’s short. (Fig.2.)

temple run
Fig.1. The teaching model in Temple Run
temple_run_2_4
Fig.2. The tunnel scene after cropping 

There involves the same relativity in these two cases. The running action can be understood as struggling forward as well as evading the attack backward; you may think that you are getting closer to everything but in turn, you are further and further to them; you hug yourself to assume that you have escaped from the danger, while from others’ perspective, you are the biggest threat. It also reminds me one of the flaws in the Baudry’s aura theory. Regardless the individual’s differences, Baudry and some of other theorists always set the audiences as a whole in their argument, over-emphasize the exhibition and the unidirectivity of the emotion flowing from the cinema to the audience. But like the distinct images in our mind to the same short, whether the viewer has the experience of playing the specific escaping game, and whether they can find the intertextuality between this game and the film, seemingly become the key point of the audience reception.

RussianArk1
Russian Ark: 

Here is another POV film constituted by a single 90-minute long take, Russian Ark (Alexander Sokurov, 2002). In my point of view, it is Sokurov’s experiment with the time and space, because the actual production time is equal to the exhibition time. Although it is the same with Rybczynski’s film, we will feel profound respect for Sokurov’s work, for there are over 2,000 actors and three orchestras spreading the whole palace. However, I don’t have such a deep resonance as in Oh, I Can’t Stop!. The relatively low speed of the camera movements delivers it as a graceful scenic film to me while some critics focus on the possibility of class mobility. So what do you think of this film? Maybe the different feelings can support the importance of individual’s experience again.

Filmology:

Rybczynski, Zbigniew. Oh, I Can’t Stop. 1976.

Sokurov, Alexander. Russian Ark. 2002

 

Theory Challenge

In “A Touch of Spice: Mobility and Popularity,” Eleftheriotis believes that a sense of mobility in and around the film A Touch of Spice (Boulmetis, 2003) is a critical enabler to its popularity. This sense of mobility is also embodied in The 10th Night (Yamaguchi, 2006), although the appearances may be a bit different.

Eleftheriotis argues that the mobility in A Touch of Spice is manifested in two ways. The first is the spatiotemporal mobility in narration, which involves an oscillating movement between past and present, memory and experience, Istanbul and Athens. Similarly, The 10th Night is in many ways representative of a much more multifaceted mobility in narration. Just the name of the anthology, Ten Nights of  Dreams, is an allusion of the mobility between real life and dream world. More remarkably, the experience of the hero Shōtarō is so erratic that it seems like a dream within a dream. Therefore, flashback in The 10th Night is not just a painful return but it shows a greater degree of mobility between the fictitiousness and the real, the predator and the prey, the desire for food and sex. Especially when Shōtarō was in the underground factory, the mobile “pig ride” serves as a television, as the vignettes of cooking passes in parallel one by one, from the collecting of the soup to the cooking of meat, then to the adding of the secret ingredient. Such scenes resemble that of the viewers changing TV channels. It is this moving process that offers Shōtarō increasing reflexivity and reflection and gradually forces him to push the button on the stick, which has the same function as a TV remote control. 

 

Another sense of mobility in A Touch of Spice, according to Eleftheriotis, lies in the contemporary and forward-looking perspective while the flashback is about the hero’s childhood. Placed in the global market, the film relates its mobility as a cultural commodity to its mode of production, marketing, and circulation, and delivers an optimistic manifesto for the future. Compared with this film, The 10th Night evidently lacks a internationally mobile or flexible agent, since it does not use the subjective narrational perspective of the hero, but a third-person point of view in flashback. Thus, The 10th Night probably shows its weakness on the cosmopolitan mobility. However, we have to keep in mind that the film is adapted from the short pieces of Natsume Sōseki. The leap from literature to cinema has already constituted its innate mobility. Beyond this intrinsic, mutual mobility, The 10th Night, also links the past and present to the future, and the double appearance of the inventor is this connector. The first prediction of the inventor is inserted when Shōtarō is in the clutches of pigs, and it seems like that this shot is in the past perfect tense because it’s a prevenient prediction to the “future” that has happened, in the memory. The second one is the last shot, a prediction regarding the hero’s astronaut career which is in the future past tense. It’s an unrealistic mobility rather than a simple narrative movement, because it traverses among almost all tenses. Mobilizing the mobility of different arts and various tenses to recoup what Eleftheriotis calls “global mobility,” The 10th Night is still a short full of vivid imagination and mobility.

 

Work Cited:

Eleftheriotis, Dimitris. “A Touch of Spice: Mobility and Popularity.” 2012.

Boulmetis, Tassos. A Touch of Spice. 2003.

Yamaguchi, Yudai. The 10th Night. 2006

Sōseki, Natsume. Ten Nights of  Dreams. 1908