Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Red Carpet Fashion

http://people.com/style/sag-awards-2017-evan-rachel-wood-suit/


Recently came across another article about Evan Rachel Wood (Westworld) wearing a suit again to an awards show. I think she makes a cool statement and I definitely appreciate her taking away the "responsibility" of females wearing dresses and just advocating for wearing clothes you like - be it a dress or a suit or whatever.

She is quoted: "This is my third nomination, I’ve been to the Globes six times and I’ve worn a dress every time and I love dresses. I’m not trying to protest dresses but I wanted to make sure that young girls and women knew that they aren’t a requirement and that you don’t have to wear one if you don’t want to — to just be yourself because your worth is more than that.” She continued, “So I said this year I’m going as homage to Marlene Dietrich and David Bowie. Because it’s his birthday [today].” So here’s to girls doing whatever and dressing however they want in 2017.

(Core response) The Method Men: Acting and Masculinity


As Dyer explains, Brando is a perfect example of the “Method”, embodying an omnipresent virility and putting all the emotions in the body instead of the ‘head’ or social expressions.

Brando, especially with his performance in A Streetcar named Desire, is actually the concrete roots of the Method: he embodies a savage male character in every simple actions such as chewing or sorting through clothes. He showed how the Method is used to tap into an actor's subconscious thoughts and emotions that may help portray more complex states of being or thoughts, such as jealousy, repression, or layered emotions.

 


The differences between stage acting and film acting are fascinating as we can read but probably the gap is not as huge as we think. Stage actors are often thought to be "more talented" because of the immediateness of their performance, whereas film actors' final performances are edited in post production, and it’s somehow true.

 
However the Method -that almost all the famous film actors now use- is precisely a method that makes actors play in films like they would do on stage, by making the body the center of all the emotions.    
If so few actors make the transition between stage and films and do it well it is probably a question of habits. The context of work is very different. But the acting technique itself is very close now with the Method.
 
A major point is that despite emotions and gestures are the key component of the Method, actors do not fully act to make feel their inside emotions but instead perform to fully comply with the stereotypes, especially with the gender conventions.  

A Duality in Film Performance: Personality Vs. Method (Core Post)

As we have been discussing contradictions in term of stars’ personae it was interesting to see in this week’s readings how theories surrounding film acting also have dualities. One concept that really caught my attention was Henry Fonda’s quote that “in film acting, unlike theater, ‘you do it just like in reality’” (Dyer 139). Based on this idea, I will try to organize two dualities within film acting by drawing from this week’s readings.

In Stardom: Industry of Desire, Barry King argues that if an actor is limited only to roles that work within his or her personality, then that is considered poor acting (168). I am reading personality as the idea that Dyer mentions about acting styles consisting in the repeated use of mannerisms, within films throughout a star’s career, which characterizes the actor’s performance style and personality (139). I understand Barry’s argument, but I cannot help but wonder if these repeated mannerisms and restricted personalities could work in an opposite way to what Barry negatively suggests. Focusing on Henry Fonda’s idea that film acting is just like reality, it is possible that an actor’s personality supports this notion of film mirroring life and looking real. If the audience notices repeated aspects of an actor’s personality in their performance, it can remind them that they are watching an actor, a real person, bringing the film closer to reality. This recognition of the actor works because it is limited; the audience is not pulled out of the movie as only pieces of the actor’s persona are on the screen, and not his or her entire personality. Thus, this personified performance points to reality without crossing the limit between diegetic space and real world. In this sense, film performance underlines reality to make movies authentic.

On the other hand, we have Method acting, which, according to Dyer, is all about becoming the character completely and how it marks authenticity (142). With the Method, there is no room for the actor’s personality to show through. A Method performance exists by itself, the actor is merely an instrument for the character to come alive in a natural way. As James F. Scott wrote, the Method performer must “put aside [their] own personality to think [their] way into an alien psyche” (Dyer 142). In this sense, when thinking about film looking like reality, film performance turns away from the stars’ personae to make movies authentic.

Here we have two sides of film performance: one that emphasizes the star and one that prioritizes the character. They both share the purpose of making film look real, of marking film as authentic, but they differ in how they achieve this goal. The former reaches authenticity through a mild breaking of character and construction under familiar conventions of reality, while the latter reaches authenticity by looking away from the actor’s persona, constructing a specific and unique character (and film), which feels authentic as we are all different from one another.

Core Response

This week’s readings had an emphasis on performance. Dyer notes that Marlon Brando’s performance prepares the audiences for what is to come in which his character “at last destroys the woman herself (Blanche), devouring her futile illusions of Southern gentility” (142). Brando is used as an example of the method in which actors value the emotional over the social and intellectual components. It is noted that there is a sexist bias in the method because while men are typically tied to emotions of disturbance and aguish, women as connected to repression. The raw and violent scenes are only made authentic when contrasted with Blanche. It is not only in explosive moments of anger that Brando gives us strong emotions and insight into his character, it is in the subtle details of the ways in which he eats an apple, consistently scratched his belly, or drinks beer with loud gulps. Barry King’s insights into the differences between stage acting and film acting solidified how actors often “tend to develop a ‘personality’ for the purposes of public interaction” for their own personal gain (176). I was reminded of the discussion we had regarding “Now, Voyager” where the film was particularly effective because they utilized Bette Davis in a very non typical role for her. In seeing her in the opening scenes ungroomed and powerless, the audience makes instant connections to the Bette Davis persona they were used to. In understanding the progressions of various performance styles from stage to screen, and also to more specific modes such as vaudeville, music hall, radio, melodrama, etc. we se how stars become commodities themselves. While the stage might have valued their content output the most, the screen allowed for there to be an importance on the person beyond the character. The star image has become in garnering attention to ways in which actors prepare for their roles. I remember hearing about Jared Leto’s ridiculous antics as he prepared for his role of the joker, and how his choice of method acting was becoming more annoying than admirable. Perhaps if social media had been around when Brando was around we might have heard how Brando might have been a jerk at all times to prepare for his role as Stanley.

Core Response #4: The Stage Performer Vs. the Film Actor

Barry King writes that “through the performance…the ‘text’ is fully realized” (King, 169). Film and Broadway actors have different methods of “getting into character”. The mediums require different skills and abilities to emote a characters physical and mental state. To discuss these two different styles of performing, one must consider their differences. King believes the greatest difference lies in the construction of a character, and he is correct, but not in the way he would believe.

King states: “[t]he construction of character in a film is not usually a linear temporal process…the actor as character must play to a character he has never seen or act out the aftermath of an affair that has yet to be enacted.” (King 170-171). Thus, acting in a film segments a performance, whereas the theater allows for a more natural momentum of exploration of growth to develop onstage. While it is true that there is less stop-and-go in the theater, it is questionable if the actor still possesses as much “control” as King suggests in his writings.

In film (short or long form), an actor can explore different manners in which to interpret the ‘text’. Between the use of multiple takes and the opportunity to experience long-term growth with the use of serialization in television, film series, and online videos, one can no longer claim that an actor does not have control. An opportunity to revisit and experience a character’s growth allows for a fresh take on a performance that can often be more naturalistic. King correctly states that a “re-skilling” is necessary between scenes; however, he incorrectly places responsibility of this talent on the shoulders of the director.

A director does guide the tone and ambiance of the performance, but it is the actor that will have to emotionally portray the character with their body. Only the screen actor can achieve this feat, and do so without the benefit of “linear” performances.  Yes, the stage performer can perform uninterrupted, but with the repetition of a story over multiple shows, one might argue that this “control” can hinder the potency of the performance.  In fact, many actors have become so lost in the repetition that they forget lines and sometimes skip to different scenes entirely because of the familiarity of the scenes over a long period of time.


In conclusion, while filmmaking does require fragmentation of a performance, it is hardly fair to say the actor is in less control of the performance than a stage actor that only receives the one chance to get a scene right.

                             Image result for stage pictures  VS .Image result for movie theater


Core Post: Articulating Stardom

"Stardom is a strategy of performance that is an adaptive response to the limits and pressures exerted upon acting in the mainstream media." (King 167).

Personally, I found King's piece on articulating stardom to be the most fascinating and novel this week's readings. We often think and learn about stars as being a marketing tool for studios, but rarely have I seen discussion like this about how stardom interacts with actors themselves. First, King goes on to explain the historical debate of theater being superior to film. This is an argument I am not unfamiliar with, still I found it necessary in order to understand King's main point about the economics of stardom and signification, and why stardom was a mechanism to beat this criticism. As a spectator, I can somewhat attest to the argument that acting on stage requires more skill, or can be seen as more impressive since it is live action.

King explains that "It is on stage that the actor is best placed to realize his or her 'creative intentions' in character portrayal" (168). Therefore saying that not only is stage acting superior to film, it is quintessential in order for an actor to engage with their character to the highest degree and deliver the most quality "impersonation." Not having much experience with acting myself, I cannot know for sure if this is true but I am likened to see the point. King discusses another critique of film over theater as a "deskilling process" to the actor, or "rendering the skills of the actor obsolete" (170). This can largely be attributed to the way actors interact with film technology, such as editing and close ups. While King brings up this criticism, I disagree that cinematic technology can take away from an actors skills. Since there are so many takes when filming, there is even more pressure for an actor to understand their character and deliver a coherent performance during each take. 

After understanding the weight of these critiques, one wonders how then film has positioned itself as immensely more successful than theater. King answers this question by explaining that the concept of the star as actor was a response to the heavy critique of film acting from the stage point of view. With this comes obvious implications, like typecasting and naturalism. Film acting lends itself to the development of personalities and star images. As we watched Streetcar Named Desire, part of Brando's persona was the "rebel," which he utilized both in his public life and while filming to delve even further into his characters. According to King, this is what makes the actor as a star such an economic commodity, where "the image is rendered as a 'real-life' trait property of its bearer, the actor as star" (174). Meaning that Brando acquired a proprietary over his image and subsequently constructed and delivered a character on screen like no other. However with this notion comes a limitation of sorts. This limitation is at its core, physical, because with the use of close up shooting there becomes a tendency to select actors based on physical attributes and let these attributes mean and signify in and of themselves.  

There is a sense of personal monopoly in the concept of the star as actor. With all the competition present due to naturalism, an even larger emphasis was created on what was unique about the actor. King explains this personal monopoly as "shifting the emphasis in performance towards personification," to which has the implication that the actor must carry his or her persona into every day life. Therefore stars constructing themselves as personas ultimately renders them as irreplaceable, transcending the narrative. I certainly see this practice today in modern media, stars with an infamous persona beating out talented "impersonation" actors for roles. When I look at some of my favorite films and television shows, I realize the reason I enjoy them so much is for that star persona. If this persona were to be replaced by just another actor, even if he or she was extremely talented, I am weary that my interest would wane. Overall, this reading certainly opened my eyes to the larger economy of stardom, and the personal monopoly it gives actors. 


Core Response: Marlon Brando's Method Madness



Looking back now, it's easy to take Marlon Brando's meteoric rise to stardom for granted, and to forget how he transformed modern conceptions of star acting. Working during the fall of the studio-contract system in the 1950s, Brando leveraged the celebrity prowess he had accrued through theatrical performances to score a series of one-picture deals, affording him unprecedented freedom to select his roles. In the three years following his silver screen debut, he played a paraplegic, a Polish factory worker, a Latin-American revolutionary, a Roman general, and a delinquent biker—a wild, zig-zagging course that soon defined his particular, chameleon-like brand of acting. Brando’s performances revolutionized American acting precisely because he didn’t seem to be "performing"—he wasn’t putting something on so much as he was being. His desire to avoid typecasting frequently led him to adopt an overly mannered, almost campy style in rebellion to conventional material and methods. Whereas previous Hollywood stars seemed to regard acting as a lucrative party trick or a pleasurable recreation, Brando's "new rebel" persona prized authenticity over ostentatiousness, primeval psychological drives over old-fashioned morals.

According to Barry King, “the self-referentiality of Method acting—the so-called personal express of realism of Brando, for example—rather than representing the triumph of the actor as impersonator can be seen as a successful adaptation of impersonation to the pressures of personification, deploying impersonation to refer back to the person of the actor, the consistent entity underlined each of his or her roles” (179). King goes on to conclude that "impersonation," which is the ability to subsume one's identity to a particular character, becomes less valued in the economies of film production than the capacity for "personification"—the ability to construct a continuing personal and authorial mark in each film role. In A Streetcar Named Desire (1951), Brando's performance certainly embodies these competing forces of character acting and celebrity persona. As a result of the uncanny vitality he infused into the slouching, scratching, sweating performance, his tabloid antics, and some public ado about the much touted Method, Brando was widely branded as what he resentfully recalled “a blue-jeaned slobbermouth,” and “the Neanderthal man.”

However in seeking authenticity through film roles, Brando only cultivated an alternative type of persona: that of the sensitive rebel. His reliance on his own self-psychoanalysis to bring film characters to life defined his "presence as a unique object," and therefore relinquished more and more of his authorial autonomy to producers and directors who sought him out as his career progressed (King 181). Even Elia Kazan had selected him for the role of Stanley precisely because of his reputation. On a previous Stanley Kramer production, he had become known for a similarly real if peculiar way of working: publicity stressed that he had spent three weeks living in a veterans’ hospital among paraplegics, learning how they moved and what they felt. In addition, his rugged physicality and charismatic face, factors largely out of his control, determined his desirability as a celebrity to a large extent. Even Marlon Brando could not escape the "contradictory pressures" induced by film actors' inevitable oscillation between impersonation and personification in attempts to negotiate their on and off-screen images.

And the Pervert of the Year Award Goes to....

Casey Affleck. There has to be one, right?

Congrats to the year's most gifted
woman hater!
You know, watching the Oscars on Sunday night, I couldn't have guessed that by Tuesday morning, my utter ambivalence toward this guy would have been supplanted by good ol' fashioned revulsion. I even bought into the whole "unrecognized but more talented younger brother getting his due" narrative that'd been constructed around him throughout this awards season. And I enjoyed Manchester by the Sea, at least, you know, as much as it was humanly possible to reap enjoyment from that sad sack.

But sure enough, I didn't know until after the Oscars that this season's best actor winner had settled two sexual harassment cases out of court in 2010, both involving women who worked on Affleck's infamous fart of a bad film, I'm Still Here. The allegations ranged from the stupidly offensive (on-set 'jokes' and encouragement to get with other crew members) to the violative (drunkenly crawling into one woman's bed as she slept) to the violent—"grabbing" one woman when she refused to have sex with him.

But see... when I don't say their names like that, or put their positions on the film into context - as Time Magazine fails to do in its safe little article on Affleck's "Oscar controversy" - it's easy to be dismiss these allegations. Maybe it was these safe media reports that created just enough ambiguity to sail Affleck through the "people talking" storm and to his trophies. A woman on a film is a bad omen, anywho - you seduce one pretty PA, and suddenly you've got a lawsuit on your hands!

Well how's this: their names are Magdalena Gorka and Amanda White, and they were the Director of Photography and Producer on the project, respectively. White had worked with Affleck over the last decade of her career, the two were the only two women on the film, and their contracts made them among the most powerful figures in the production. The daily harassment and trauma that each experienced during this production was designed, sanctioned, and perpetuated by Affleck to strip them of any power or agency that their positions presupposed. They were subjected to daily harassment, partaken in even by their subordinates. In what should be seen as a clear concession of Affleck's guilt, both women's cases were settled to the undisclosed tune of between $1.5 - 2.5 million dollars each.

Even though many publications and journalists reported on Affleck's history of sexual harassment throughout the awards season (for better reads than wimpy Time Mag's, opt for Huffington Post or this very detailed Daily Beast article) the actor was still adorned with every Best Actor award out there, besides the SAG. Funny, that: the only voting body that did not award Affleck just happened to be the one comprised of his peers and colleagues... Brie Larson knew full well that she had the entire Dolby Theater behind her when she denied Affleck the standard niceties.

 A hero in the eyes of Gods and Men, Captain Marvel herself
It just begs the question: in this historic Academy Awards:

in which Mahershala Ali, the first Muslim actor was awarded;

in which Asghar Fahardi's unmissable absence created a poignant moment of protest for those affected by Trump's unlawful ban;

in which Best Picture went to Moonlight, which must be the most intersectional text and diverse cast and crew that the Academy has ever awarded...

Why - WHY - is the Academy STILL giving awards to men who abuse women?

When Hollywood has never more legitimately enjoyed its pedestal of preaching empathy and 'speaking truth to power', why does it continue to normalize sexual assault by awarding 'talented' abusers?

It seems that every year some pervert is Hollywood's darling, be it Woody Allen or Nate Parker. I'm already exasperated as all hell at the lack of female representation in the writing, directing, really ANY creative categories besides acting. And now I - and all the women working or hoping to work in this industry - have to watch sexual criminals, who contribute to the regression or stagnation of gender equality in entertainment; who, abusing their female colleagues, denigrate and mock any progress toward gender equality, preen and puff and accept awards presented by an actress who won last year for portraying a survivor of sexual abuse?

The only thing trumping that irony is this year's big twist: two perverts for the price of one!

Good old Mel, resident wife beater and anti-semite (but only when he's drunk, you know), has served his sentence and is back among Hollywood's elite. It seems when one sexual abuser makes a come-up, another makes a come-back.

So, what was it we were just saying, about the Oscars championing social justice?

Monday, February 27, 2017

Meryl Streep and the Battle of the Oscars Dress

http://www.vulture.com/2017/02/meryl-steep-criticizes-karl-lagerfeld-over-dress-controversy.html



For those who missed it (understandably, considering the major twist that turned the tables on the Oscars last night): last week, designer Karl Lagerfeld suggested to Women's Wear Daily that Streep was “cheap” for supposedly pulling out of wearing a Chanel dress after discovering they wouldn’t be paying her for the publicity. Lagerfeld claimed Chanel initially planned to dress Streep for the big night, but after sketching a gown and beginning production, he was told "Don't continue the dress. We found somebody who will pay us." Streep's team quickly denied that this was the case, and Lagerfeld issued a statement that he had “misunderstood” why Meryl had opted for another designer. Lagerfeld's response clearly did not suffice for the star, who on Saturday called for a genuine apology from Lagerfeld and WWD.

An excerpt from her statement reads: In reference to Mr. Lagerfeld’s ‘statement,’ there is no ‘controversy’: Karl Lagerfeld, a prominent designer, defamed me, my stylist, and the illustrious designer whose dress I chose to wear, in an important industry publication. [...] I do not take this lightly, and Mr. Lagerfeld’s generic ‘statement’ of regret for this ‘controversy’ was not an apology. He lied, they printed the lie, and I am still waiting.

In my view, this public feud stood out from the typical awards show fashion discussion that accompanies the Oscars festivities. The seriousness with which Meryl Streep treated Lagerfeld's allegations as an attack on her morals reminded me of the Charles Eckert's elaboration on the symbiosis between Hollywood and the fashion industry throughout the 1930s and 40s—when "hundreds of women stars and starlets [were made] available to the studio publicity, sales tie-in departments as—to use the favoured phrase—merchandising assets" (Eckert 38). Fashion, jewelry houses, and most stylists prefer to preserve the illusion that celebrities' big night fashion choices are completely organic. But when it comes to highly covered red carpet moments like the Oscars, the publicity of having your dress on a star's body can be more valuable than any traditional advertisement, and some actresses have gotten over $250,000 for wearing a single dress. Occasionally actresses will sign contracts with specific labels for several years in a pay-for-play arrangement. For instance, Charlize Theron enjoyed arrangements with Cartier, Montblanc and Chopard in 2008, which had each negotiated a $200,000 fee for the actress to wear its jewels to the Academy Awards. However, these negotiations often emerge amidst whispers of scandal and accusations of selling out, as they did this year in Meryl Streep's case. In order to preserve their "moral" images, actresses must maintain an aura of authenticity at all times, glazing over the commercialism inherent in the Hollywood-fashion industry collaboration.

Ultimately, does it matter if actresses are paid to wear one designer’s gown or one house’s jewels on the Academy Awards red carpet?

Core Post: King Around Here vs. Queen of the Stage


In Elaine Stritch at Liberty the legendary stage comedian relays the story of her failed courtship with Marlon Brando. When the two were in acting school together, Brando stormed out on their first date after learning that Stritch was a virgin, and wouldn’t put out. A year later, he invited her to dinner, and sat wordlessly across from her, avoiding her eyes, before shattering his glass in his bare hand: “Elaine,” he said, “I’m sorry.” 

I remember this story because it resonated with the ideas I had preconceived of Brando: intense, powerful, brooding, outcasted, sensitive. These are the vital characteristics of his persona: his real personality combined with the film roles that reinforced it. Discussing Brando’s Method acting as a reconciliation of impersonation (embodying a character) and personification (acting limited to facets of the actor’s personalities), King explained Brando’s form of impersonation as “referring back” to his real person. Considering Stritch’s broken glass story in light of the Streetcar Named Desire scene in which Brando dashes dishes against the wall, this assessment is on the mark. The effectiveness of Brando’s Method acting, particularly in his definitive “rebel” years, relied upon his ability to adapt impersonation - total immersion into character - to personification—the real personality traits codified into his performances. 

If Brando was the definitive example of this phenomenon in the Method tradition, his co-star in Streetcar Named Desire may be so for the melodramatic. Vivien Leigh was a true British theatrical, trained to play to the farthest reaches of a West End playhouse. Her name was also synonymous with that of her most iconic film role, Scarlett O’Hara, which itself carries connotations of Southern gentility and white femininity. But to simply say that set against one another, Brando represents the naturalness of Method and Leigh the exaggeration of melodrama, is to construct a binary where there is actually a confluence. It is not that Leigh is necessarily a melodramatic actor—rather, it is that her skill and understanding of that technique enable her to wholly embody a melodramatic character.

Blanche is constantly performing. She has constructed her personality and behavior into a perverse performance of the Southern belle archetype. Soft-spoken and false-naive, she pretends innocence and feminine weakness in order to manipulate the men around her. With the hypnotic focus in her eyes, pointed premeditation of her gestures, and affectedness of her voice, Blanche/Leigh acts the part of a perverted Scarlett O’Hara—but not well enough to fool Stanley/Brando, creating the crux of their conflict. The ‘bigness’ with which Leigh plays her character is intrinsic, necessary, and natural to the character: Blanche/Leigh, therefore, represents a conflation of acting styles that may be unique in the cinema. Leigh may not be a Method actor, but to say that she did not “identify” wholly with Blanche, did not construct her unhinged performance along the psychological makeup of her character (both elements of the Method), is to misunderstand the naturalistic character purpose behind her melodramatic performance.

I went to a performing arts high school for theater, the highly competitive, crazy stage mom kind, and in my experience, even Method is considered outmoded, a style of acting that had its greatest cultural moment when Freud was still enjoying unquestioned legitimacy. The Meisner technique, preaching spontaneity and instinctual reaction to other actors, had supplanted the Method in our instruction. So to look at Method and the melodramatic as a binary may have been useful decades ago, but as we've seen, even films where the actors articulate that binary - Streetcar Named Desire - end up problematizing it more. The personhood and persona of stars, brought to characters designed to play upon them, complicate their easy packaging into particular acting traditions. 

Stars as Fashion Icons

For as long as I can remember, I have participated in the obsession over Oscar dresses. The Red Carpet looks, covered by magazines and now posted all over social media, seem to draw a mass following and result in popular, more affordable looks for months to come. 
On Vogue for the past two days, there has been an entire page dedicated to Red Carpet looks. Titled "Oscars 2017: Fashion-Live From the Red Carpet", Vogue covers the best looks from the carpet and after parties. Vogue.com is keeping up with Snapchat and Instagram, making sure to stay "live" and keep updating us, the obsessed fans, with what the stars' are wearing.


Core Post- Acting On Stage vs. On Screen

King discusses the stage as an “actor’s medium” which brings up an interesting comparison between acting on stage versus acting on screen. I have often thought about theater as a more definitive way to judge an actor’s performance. Because the performance is live, it is a more precise way to judge the actor’s technique and abilities. However, on screen, how can we judge the true talent of an actor? King quotes Edgar Morin who said, “‘The cinema does not merely de- theatricalise the actor’s performance. It tends to atrophy it’” (172)

Through the technology of film editing, an actor’s performance is easily manipulated and adjusted. While it does not always “atrophy it”, perhaps it is a lot more difficult to judge the actor’s raw talent. I agree with King that “it’s absurd to conclude…that acting in film requites no skills whatsoever, it is important to identify the transformations in the practices of acting that film technology entails” (172).

I agree with King that acting on stage requires a different skillset and training than acting on camera. As King writes, “a movement from stage to screen in a literal sense involves re-skilling…the kinds of skills acquired by stage training are not easily mastered by those experienced in film work” (173). On stage, actors are often trained to interact with the other actors in the scene. Thus, the audience watches a scene between two characters, acting and reacting off of each other. However, in film, we often watch actors on screen individually. For example, in a scene between two characters at a table, the camera often flips from one actor to the other. Through technological manipulation, the camera implies that two characters are there, but we do not watch their reactions’ simultaneously. Moreover, through film, we often see actors in a close-up. I believe that a lot of acting on camera stems from the actor’s eyes as seen in close-ups.

Overall, King’s writing about the stage versus the screen causes me to question the most useful type of training for those who want to become actors. I believe that a background in theater is helpful for understanding character development and learning different approaches and techniques. However, theater training may not necessarily prepare an actor for the scrutiny and close-ups that are so common in Hollywood.


Looking back at some of the great Oscar speeches

Sometimes an Oscar speech surpasses the fame of the film or performance for which it won (ie, Roberto Benigni for Life is Beautiful). 

Here is a playlist of some of the best. 







Sunday, February 26, 2017

Types of Acting and Representation: Core Response


“Stars are representations of persons which reinforce, legitimate or occasionally alter the prevalent conceptions of what it is to be a human being in this society.”

This was a quotation from the reading that I found to be particularly interesting. This idea of altering prevalent conceptions directly relates to stars exposing and smoothing over cultural contradictions. It is interesting to look at how different acting methods influence how we view these cultural traditions. In melodrama and theatric tradition, there is exaggerated gestures which make the characters not seem real. Therefore, they become symbols, representing issues larger than them. I immediately think of Sunset Boulevard and Norma Desmond walking down the stairs. She quite literally is performing (as an actress unable to escape this world) and these exaggerated gestures make us question how did she get like this? What is she expressing? Her inner turmoil seems to have been causes by societal pressures and her gestures are the map we use to navigate through these contradictions. In the case of Sunset Boulevard, it reflects the consumption of the female body and its relationship to aging in terms of celebrity. Method acting, on the other hand, seems more focused on the individual which leads to better understanding how specific social forces affect the character, but I would argue it is more subtle. Seeing Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire, it is clear that he reduces Stanley to essentially an animal, reflecting a lot about the depiction of the ideal male during this time, however for me personally this spoke less to society at large but more to the individual. Of course, an individual’s experience can reflect a lot about the society they live in. Stanley’s class, race and more all influence how he interacts with Stella and Blanche who come from an upper-class background. Therefore, understanding the individual reveals things about society in method acting, but with melodrama understanding the society and contexts allows us to make sense of the individual, in my opinion. I think the distinction between the two is often subtle, but comparing Blanche’s gestures and dialogue to that of Stanley’s reveals a lot about how different acting methods highlight different aspects of the character’s background, identity and position in society.


            I also wanted to mention one other thing about the quote above, something I think Dyer has largely overlooked up until this point, which is how race and sexuality affect representation. Stars legitimate what it is to be a human in society, yet so many individuals never saw, and continue to not see, stars that look like them. Does this mean they are less than human? The production of celebrity has historically favored cisgender heterosexual white men and women, so this is important to look at. I am interested in looking at those who were largely rendered invisible by the early star system and how they felt about this system. Did they also idolize Joan Crawford and John Wayne? I think a more intersectional analysis would reveal a lot about the cultural production of the celebrity. I once heard that if you aren’t seen on TV (people like you) then you are invisible in society. I think this reflects why shows such as Transparent and Orange is the New Black are so important because they portray complex and ultimately human examples of transgender individuals opposed to a long history of mocking cross-dressing (Some Like it Hot). But there still are not many stars that are outside of dominant acceptable beauty standards and politics. This makes me wonder: does society need to demand stars that represent them or does the production system need to create these stars and this will determine how they are consumed by society?