Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Methods of Maintaining Power


Methods of Maintaining Power

                Before I even start, I need to make it clear that I am going to approach the question, ‘How do those in power stay in power? ‘ in as unbiased of a way as I possibly can. I know that it is impossible for anyone to completely remove his own bias, but I will do my best to do so. Thus I am going to focus on how power structures are maintained and not talk about the actual issues that these systems create. And although there are plenty of historical examples, I will again avoid them. Luckily, the films we viewed this semester are good examples of numerous strategies of maintaining power and preventing change. Specifically, I will be focusing on the films The Big Boss, Raise the Red Lantern, Ikiru, and Mononoke Hime.
                Part of the problem of talking about things like power is that the language necessary to do so is incredibly problematic. To begin, much rhetoric on topics of power and freedom are filled with buzz words and loaded language. And, to make things worse, most people don’t even have the same definition, conception, or understanding of the words used in conversations on power (or on any serious topic, for that matter).
 The complexity of the world we live in makes it difficult to give a singular definition to anything, and power is no exception. The explanation I am about to give is just that: an explanation. There are more than one type of power, but my explanation should be good enough for the purposes of this essay. Power, generally speaking, is derived from freedom. Freedom is another one of those words that has many definitions and interpretations. Although I don’t agree with a lot of what he said, I will borrow from Anti-Dühring Fredrick Engels’s definition of freedom : “Freedom does not consist in any dreamt-of independence from natural laws, but in the knowledge of these laws, and in the possibility this gives of systematically making them work towards definite ends.” In other words, if you understand the environment you are in and you how you can use this understanding of the world to change said environment, you have freedom. Power is acting on this freedom and actually changing the world you are a part of. Everyone has power. But, some people have more power than others by limiting the freedom of others. By controlling or manipulating other people to your own ends instead of theirs, power can be gained and then kept.
In sum, power is utilizing your own freedom to change your environment. Power becomes a negative force when it is utilized to abolish or limit the freedom of others for the expansion of freedom (and thus a potential expansion of power) of the self.
This is not to say that power cannot to be used for mutual benefit. It can. When in numbers, the power of each individual stacks to create a larger power. Co-operation is the key to change. Communities and societies are just that: groups of co-operating individuals bringing about change. Sometimes, when those with more power abuse said power at the detriment of the rest of the community, the community’s collective power can be utilized to bring about change that is beneficial to the whole. However, this seizure of power is sometimes not favored by those at the top of the power structure. Thus, in order to protect their power and status, those in power often work to stop unauthorized co-operation.
This leads us back to our original question. How does one remain in power once they have power? Fear. Fear is an incredibly powerful motivator. We have all done ridiculous things out of fear. While what a person is afraid of is entirely unique to that person, that is not to say there is not a deeper cause of our fears that can be exploited.
In The Big Boss, Hsiao Mi, AKA “The Big Boss”, does just that. The Big Boss demonstrates a very simple technique that can be used in the preservation of power. He hurts people. But, that isn’t really what he is doing. He’s doing more than just hurting people - he is getting them to fear him. Most humans don’t just fear pain, they hate it. We go to great lengths to avoid it. Pain is a reminder of our mortality; it reminds us that we are going to die. So, when The Big Boss orders violence on others, he is invoking the fear of death. When The Big Boss shows off how much of a better fighter he is, he isn’t showing off how manly he is, or how great he is, or how fearless he is. No, The Big Boss is merely reminding everyone that he can kill them if he wants to. They live because he lets them live.
In one scene, we see The Big Boss shoots what appears to be either a hot ember or a dart into the breast of a young woman. And, the prostitute that spends the night with Cheng Chao-an, Bruce Lee’s character, explains that The Big Boss shoots the girls that stay with him when they do something ‘wrong’. Her naked breast was covered in black, circular scars. This wasn’t a show of power. The Big Boss was training these women like they were dogs. By using small amounts of pain, or even just the fear of that pain, The Big Boss maintained control over these women to a startling degree. He scarred them to remind them who is in charge, who they are subservient to.
                Of course, exploiting the fear of pain and death is not the only tactic that The Big Boss utilized throughout the course of the film. At one point, the workers of the ice factory decide to strike. So, the order went out to the boss’s thugs to break up this newly formed union. But, thanks to the determination of the workers and Cheng Chao-an’s fists, their pseudo-union survives, and Cheng becomes their unofficial leader. Violence has apparently failed for The Big Boss.
                So, the Big Boss gives in. But only a tiny bit. He doesn’t actually attempt to meet the worker’s demands. Instead he does two things. First, he offers piecemeal agreements to the workers. This action not only makes the workers feel like he is on their side, but it also take the wind out of their sails. With no one to be angry at, and a slight feeling of accomplishment of having gotten something done (even though it wasn’t at all close to what they were hoping would get done), the union weakens. Union organization slows.
                The second action that The Big Boss takes is to promote Cheng. On the outside, this appears like a great thing for the workers. Now, they have a person on the inside! They have someone to stand up for them in the closed door meetings they aren’t allowed into. But, that is not the reality. Instead, Cheng becomes the scapegoat for all the problems that the workers now face. If something doesn’t get done, it gets blamed on Cheng. He is, after all, their leader. But, how can Cheng represent the workers properly if he is no longer a worker? How can he be trusted by his former co-workers, now his underlings? This creates infighting. Co-operation stops. Their power dissipates. The union fails. Change is prevented. The power structure remains relatively unchanged for at least a little bit longer.
                Although The Big Boss showed how effective promoting leaders can be for breaking up co-operating groups, it has nothing on Raise the Red Lantern. Master Chen demonstrated to a chilling degree how privileges can separate communities. In Raise the Red Lantern there were numerous groups of people living, working, and interacting in the same space. However, there was a clearly defined hierarchy that is visible throughout the entire movie. On the bottom there are the maids, then the personal maids to the concubines, then the male workers who were most commonly seen lighting the lanterns, then the concubines, then the female children of the concubines, then the male children, and finally Master Chen himself. Each step up the ladder grants more and more privilege, until you get to Master Chen, the one with real, almost absolute power.
                Now, what makes this difficult is that, again, if ANY of the groups had united and stood their ground, the whole plot would have ground to a halt and real change would have been possible. But, this was not the case. Instead, each group competed within itself in the hope of achieving more power. Yan’er was probably not the only maid that was jealous of the concubines. It wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine even the older maids to have been in Yan’er’s shoes when they were younger. They all worked hard so they could keep their jobs at the compound. But, they also dreamt of the lavish lifestyle the concubines had. Although there wasn’t much focus on the male workers, there is no way they weren’t jealous of the Master’s four wives and massive wealth. This might be a difficult concept for some people, but not having to work is a privilege. Leisure was the symbolic red lantern for the servants of the compound.
                The concubines, on the other hand, fought not for leisure, but for control over their own lives. The women quarreled to see who could get the red lantern each night. Then, they would get special privileges, like being able to pick the next day’s meal, foot massages, and a night with the Master. Although it is tempting to say that the concubines had power in that they were able to pick their meals from time to time, they weren’t the ones who were making the ultimate decision. When it comes down to it, none of the concubines had any real control over who the Master spent the night with. Master Chen did. And, when he made that decision, it was he who had made the decision on which concubine got to pick the meal. In this context, it isn’t power because the wives have no ultimate say in anything. All they had were privileges that were formed by the hierarchy they were participating in.
                This hierarchy also did more than just create divisions between the different groups: it also prevented positive relationships from developing between these groups. If, like I had mentioned earlier, the groups had stopped chasing privileges, started co-operating, and more directly gone after what they wanted (an easier life for the workers, and autonomy for the concubines and children) massive change would have been possible. Hierarchy and authority prevents this sort of co-operation, as hierarchy and authority are unidirectional by nature. The people higher up don’t co-operate with those below; they tell those below them what to do. It is a privilege gained from being higher up in the ladder. Those below have to do what they are told or they risk the consequences. There is no compromise. There is following orders or disobeying orders. And, the bigger and more complex the hierarchy gets, these problems grow and become more complex as well.
                There is no hierarchy more complex than bureaucracy. Ikiru is a beautiful example of what a bureaucracy is and how it functions (or doesn’t function). Ikiru shows many of the problems that are found in Raise the Red Lantern. Each bureaucrat is in pursuit of a higher rank. With each promotion comes a multitude of small privileges: more money, a fancier title, a better seat, a private desk. Eventually, if one were to work their way to the top, they might even get an office! The pursuit of a career in such a fashion splits up those who are of the same title, as they are competing with each other for the next promotion.
                Ikiru also captures what makes bureaucracy such a good tool for maintaining power: bureaucracy’s is incapable of doing anything other than maintaining the status quo. With so many rules and loopholes to go along with the endless paperwork and the insufferable number of departments being ‘involved’ in even the smallest of projects, like building a park, it is impossible to really know how it works, especially with how strictly these rules are reinforced and followed. Sure, Watanabe got a park built, but it took him almost six months of non-stop effort. Not to mention, Watanabe knew what he was doing, knew what had to be done, and was entirely willing to risk his career on such a venture. As the ending of the film showed, very few others hold this same mentality.
                If Ikiru wasn’t capable of showing how difficult it is for a bureaucracy to change, consider this: Ikiru was based off of the novella The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy. The book was first published in 1886, 66 years before Ikiru came out. It has been 61 years since Ikiru came out. Despite the story being that old, it is still extremely relevant to the world we live in. If that isn’t a testament to the unchanging nature of bureaucracy, then I don’t know what would be.
                Although hierarchy, bureaucracy, violence, fear, and the sectionalization of existing/potential communities have shown themselves to be effective in maintaining power structure, Mononoke Hime offers a radically different approach that is far less invasive in a physical sense as the above mentioned methods; it is perhaps far more invasive in a mental sense. Basically, what makes Mononoke Hime so different is that it isn’t representative of a system of control. Mononoke Hime is a system of control.
                Now, this is not to say that Mononoke Hime is propaganda, brainwashing, or something of that ilk. The film is a cultural reflection of the society we live in. Its themes are very much pro-power. It is pro-capitalism. It is pro-consumerist. It glorifies violence. It supports the conception of society not being possible without leaders. It is pro-industrialism.  Etc. As a reflection of the culture we live in, the film teaches and/or reinforces the values and priorities of our society, both good and bad. However, by normalizing these ideas and values to members of a society (particularly the young, but it can really happen to anyone) it prevents people from asking key questions about the way the world is set up, how it functions, and if our society needs to change. The more these questions are kept from the front of the minds of the members of a society, the more people consent to the world they live in. So although Mononoke Hime is not propaganda, it acts as though it was a piece of propaganda, and is thus a potential barrier to change.
                Each of the films we’ve watched in class are telling examples of how power functions and how it maintains itself. The examples I have brought up are not the end all be all of how power operates in the world we live in. But, I will say there is a pattern of sorts in the world we live in. There is no such thing as a simple power relationship. Each case is unique and infinitely complex. Each conflict has numerous different systems of power at play, and each conflict has numerous methods of control and power preservation. Some I have pointed out to you in this essay. Most I have not. But, if nothing else, exploitation and oppression demand hierarchies. Hierarchies are inherently unequal, and inequality is the breeding ground for all sorts of tragedies.
                But, don’t take my word for it. Look into this yourself. Think about it. Be observant and witness the power structures all around you. Watch them as they maintain themselves. Watch the schools you attend, the companies and corporations you support, and your own government as they all engage in various methods of maintaining their own power. Watch all over the world as it suffers from those with power who are desperate for more power and from those who are fighting tooth and nail from slipping away. This isn’t the cinema. This isn’t a game. People are dying.
                Unequal power affects every level of society. It affects your friends, your family, and your future kids if nothing changes. It even affects you. I guarantee it.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Balance in Mise-en-scene


Balance in Mise-en-scene


Introduction

                Balance – Noun - A state of equilibrium or equipoise; equal distribution of weight, amount, etc.; something used to produce equilibrium; counterpoise; mental steadiness or emotional stability; habit of calm behavior, judgment, etc.
                The word ‘balance’ is one that is found frequently in Eastern Asian philosophy and religion, and the general idea has been westernized and capitalized upon through the mass proliferation of images such as the Yin-Yang symbol. However, using these symbols allows for a certain visual understanding of balance that cannot be easily explained with words. This visual balance can be used to communicate messages of non-visual balance, like one of mental, emotional, or spiritual balance or stability. Balance invokes a sense of seriousness when being faced by a person, and achieving a sense of visual balance can be used with much effect by an artist. The films Ikiru and Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… And Spring (which from now on will be referred to as SSFWAS) use cinematographic balance as a tool to convey underlying feelings and perhaps even meaning. This blossay will attempt to explain my conception of visual balance and explore how the mise-en-scene of each film utilizes visual balance in different ways by looking at how each film’s storyline is organized, and then discussing the use of visual balance of each film and its specific parts.

Visual Balance

                The easiest way to understand visual balance is of course through images. However, due to my general inability with computers, I was stuck with making a rough grid in MS Paint and drawing circles on it. So, use your imagination and pretend that the grid is overlaying the movie screen and that the circles are actually onscreen objects. Also, use your imagination to pretend that the grid and circles are actually perfect and not drawn on MS Paint by someone with absolutely no experience with MS Paint.
                The most basic form of balance (it should be noted that I could very well be talking about something that is named something else in films studies that I am unaware of) is simple symmetry. A head on shot of a character’s face is perhaps the most basic example of a balanced shot. Additionally, two different objects can also have visual balance as long as they are placed in a symmetrical fashion. For instance, a shot from the side of two people facing each other and talking or a straight on shot of two people sitting side by side, has a very simple symmetry, and is thus balanced in an obvious and straightforward way.


Fig. 1


If the symmetry demonstrated by fig. 1 is simply rotated by 45 degrees, a slightly less obvious form of balance is shown. This is a shot that isn’t used frequently, but an example of an aerial shot of two martial arts masters poised to fight comes to mind (for whatever reason).


Fig. 2

If you continue to rotate the circles from Fig. 2 by another 45 degrees you get another rare shot. A wonderful example of this is the shot from Yellow Earth of Gu Qing with the sun directly above him.


Fig.3

It should be noted that symmetry doesn’t need to be found in multiple directions, one is often enough. For instance, a ground level shot of two martial arts masters poised to fight can be a balanced shot regardless of how much sky is shown.

Fig. 4


Of course, symmetry is based on the perspective of the viewer, or in the case of film, the perspective that the camera takes on. This leads to situations where the symmetry in a shot seems to not be there, but nonetheless there is a definite balance in the shot. Imagining on screen objects as circles helps make this balance more apparent and allows for symmetry to be more easily seen. An over the shoulder shot of another character (usually during dialogue) is a common shot of this kind of visual balance.


Fig. 5

Another way to visualize perspective visual balance is to imagine the Yin-Yang symbol. Then, turn the white and black dots into floating orbs. If these two orbs retain the same spatial relationship with each other, they will be balanced no matter what angle you look at them. This would of course be super easy to understand if a 3D model was made that you could rotate yourself, but hopefully the following slight alteration of Fig. 5 will help make this idea more clear.


Fig. 6

If the circles from Fig. 5 switch positions, a visual balance that is frequently found in landscape shots becomes apparent. If this is difficult to imagine, try picturing a small house at the bottom of a mountain.


Fig.7

Now, things get more complicated when more objects get added to the screen, but for the sake of space, I am hoping that you have enough of a grasp of what I am trying to say to understand the rest of this blossay. Just remember that symmetry is the easiest way to know that there is some form of visual balance at play.

Formatting

Although obvious in SSFWAS, both films utilize a fairly straightforward play structure. Each film has within itself fairly obvious acts, and in each act there are numerous scenes. For SSFWAS, again, how this is done is obvious. There is an act for each season, and then a final act that is also set in spring. Ikiru, however, is a little more subtle in that it didn’t announce each act. But, there are still four definitive sections to the film that can be called acts. The first act is the introduction where we learn who Watanabe is and about his life. The second act is the party scenes right after Watanabe meets the writer. The third act is the scenes of Watanabe and Toyo, and the fourth act is comprised mostly Watanabe’s funeral.
The act structure of these films is important because each film utilizes visual balance alongside these acts in unique ways. Ikiru uses balance in a very binary fashion; each act is composed mostly of balanced or unbalanced shots. SSFWAS is more subtle and inconsistent, but relies on a general trend that follows the acts while the movie progresses. I will get in more detail below, but will avoid delving too much into meaning until later in the paper.

Ikiru

Introductory Scenes

                This act starts off balanced, and remains balanced for the most part. Certain scenes that are extremely serious, namely the scene of Watanabe and the Dr. talking about how he does/doesn’t have stomach cancer, or when Watanabe describes his current condition to the writer.  Interestingly enough, the only scene that is obviously unbalanced during this act is the first car scene of the film. The shots of this scene are unbalanced and chaotic, a startling change given its juxtaposition with the rest of the act. It is also worth noting that the final scene of this act, when the writer kicks away the dog while leaving the bar, is unbalanced.

Party Scenes

                The party scenes, as one would imagine they should be, are chaotic and unbalanced. This is especially true during the scene in which Watanabe sings “Gondola no Uta”. The swaying of the beads and the disjointed slow motion scattering of the couples moving away from Watanabe is chilling. It is a profoundly uncomfortable scene that is multiplied by its lack of visual balance. However, the end of this scene is a balanced, head on shot of Watanabe, which really brings home the sincerity, seriousness, and the importance of the scene. This act also has the second car scene of the film, which is similar to the first in its lack of balance and its chaotic-ness. The act ends with an unbalanced shot of Watanabe, the writer, and two girls in a taxi. The girls are singing slightly off pitch, ending the act as uncomfortably as it started.

Toyo Scenes

                When Watanabe meets up with Toyo, the young woman he knew from his job, the shots return to the balanced feel of the first act. Toyo acts as a balancing agent to Watanabe, and as the he gets calmer in the storyline, the mise-en-scene mirrors that feeling. For instance, there is a scene that Toyo runs into a street and almost gets hit by two busses. Unlike the first two car scenes, this scene is very balanced. The ending scene is interesting in that it is both balanced and unbalanced at the same time. As Watanabe and Toyo are talking in the booth of what seems to be a café, there is a birthday party going on behind them. On the surface, there are the calming effects of Toyo, but underneath of that calm, there is still a lack of balance, represented by the birthday party. After Watanabe decides he is going to get something done at city hall, the birthday party becomes organized as they line up to sing happy birthday. Toyo, however, is left alone, creating an unbalanced shot in front of a balanced one.

Funeral Scenes

                The funeral scenes start off very balanced, with the attendees of the funeral lined on both sides of the room. However, as points of confusion, conflict, and debate are brought up, the room becomes progressively less and less balanced until the room is a piled of drunken, crying bureaucrats. The flashbacks of Watanabe, on the other hand, are balanced. There are two flashbacks, specifically the scenes with the Deputy Mayor and the thugs, that start off very unbalanced but become balanced when Watanabe refuses to be intimidated.

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… And Spring


Spring

                SSFWAS is different from Ikiru in that it is not as consistent in its use of balance, so the claims I make about SSFWAS are far more general. In Spring, the scenery is balanced, but the characters are not always balanced with the scenery or with the other characters.  While the child monk is torturing the animals by tying rocks to them, the struggling of the animals are shot in a visually unbalanced way. The child monk varies between balanced and unbalanced shots, but there are some shots that would be unbalanced if it were not for the looming figure of the Master behind the child. When the boy has a rock tied on his back, the shots are slightly unbalanced. Oddly enough though, the images of the dead fish and snake are all very balanced.

Summer

                In the beginning of Summer, the shots are almost always just slightly off from being balanced. But, the interactions between the girl and the boy monk are always unbalanced, and as the act progresses this unbalance becomes more and more obvious. The master, on the other hand (and this is also evident in Spring), is almost always shot in a balanced manner. At the end of this act, the suffering, weeping, and departure of the teenage monk is very unbalanced. Not only is the scenery and his relationship to it unbalanced, but his posture is as well.

Fall
                Although this act is overall very unbalanced visually, Fall opens with the master and his cat, both being shot in an incredibly balanced manner. Although not entirely unique to Fall, scenes that start out unbalanced end balanced become more common in this act. When the child monk returns as an adult, he and his surroundings are balanced, but his posture isn’t. However, when the man and the Master are together, the Master visually balances the man out. The unbalanced-ness of this act culminates in the scene that the Master beats the man and the scene after when the man is tied up in the monastery. These scenes are the peak of the visual imbalance of the movie. Even the Master isn’t balanced while he beats his former student. While the man begins to carve the floor of the floating temple’s deck, things get slightly less unbalanced and this continues as he progresses in his task. Although there is a moment of visual balance when one of the detectives place a coat on the sleeping man, things become immediately unbalanced again right after.  Even the shots of the master are unbalanced, to a certain degree. The final shots of the Master and his suicide are very balanced. But, the characters that are written on the pieces of paper that get pasted to his eyes and mouth are not balanced in their composition. They are not symmetric and therefore make the scene feel unbalanced even when it technically isn’t.

Winter

                While still slightly unbalanced, the nature and scenery of Winter is more balanced than in Fall. After the man, now fully grown, finds the book of martial arts and begins to train, he begins to become more and more balanced. After the lady comes with her child, he begins to take on the role of his former master, often balancing the scene out. But, when the man ties the grinding stone to his waist and starts to drag it up the mountain, he is perpetually unbalanced throughout the entire sequence. Although the man is incredibly unbalanced, the scenery around him is relatively balanced. When the man reaches the summit, the first real and obvious visual balance for most of the movie occurs instantaneously. If the beating scene is the peak of this movies unbalance, this scene is the peak of SSFWAS’s balance.

…And Spring

                The last act of SSFWAS continues with the feeling of balance and calm that occurs at the end of Winter. At least this is the case until the new child monk begins to torture the animals. This generally fits the same feeling of the first act except that there is no Master to balance out the child as he stuffs rocks into the mouths of animals. The movie ends with a balanced shot of the Buddha statue looking over the valley.

Conclusions
                In both films, visual balance and unbalance play a definite role in how the film is interpreted by the audience. Balance is something that we pick up on even if we are not consciously aware of its influence on us. This unconscious awareness of balance is also why I am unsure if Kurosawa (director of Ikiru) or Kim Ki-duk (director of SSFWAS) were aware of their use of it in their films. Ikiru, as I have already mentioned, utilizes balance in an almost binary way. The deliberate feel of the film, as well as the well-known genius of Kurosawa, makes me think that there is a very specific meaning or purpose behind the balance of the film. SSFWAS, on the other hand, is less consistent in its shots but still maintains an overall arc in the frequency of different kinds of visual balanced shots that matches up with the overall arc of the storyline. This points to Kim Ki-duk’s awareness of balance, but it does not definitively prove anything. It could easily be accidental or a consequence of Kim Ki-duk attempting to achieve certain feelings in the film that manifest themselves in balanced and unbalanced shots.
                When it comes to the meaning of visual balance in the mise-en-scene in each film, it is hard for me to say without positively knowing if the balance was purposeful or without doing further research on each film. However, thinking about the balance in each film brings up questions to be asked of each film. As we ask these questions, we can meditate on the concept of balance ourselves, and perhaps bring some more balance into our own lives.