Philosophy and Plot Summary: The Painting

As a sort of follow-up to one of my recent posts about a film of the same genre, I decided to take a look at the French film The Painting (AKA Le tableau). Originally released in 2011, it was shown at a handful of U.S. film festivals throughout 2012 and made available on Netflix in late 2013. I only just got around to seeing it for the first time a few days ago (whoops) and got a lot more than expected. Iceberg-size spoilers ahoy!

Not rated.

I suggest PG as one poor fella is beaten to death by a gang of privileged prats.

It was not so much the various artistic techniques used by the creators that struck me—though they were, at the very least, interesting to behold. Instead, it was the profound nature of the story. What at first I took to be a simple retelling of Romeo and Juliet turned out to have a deeper commentary on social class and its inherent discrimination, deformity as uniqueness/identity, the need to determine the existence of a divine creator, as well as reconciling the beautiful with the terrible; the created with the destroyed.

There are three rungs to the social ladder in The Painting. Residing at the bottom are Sketchies—the Painter's doodles or—as some argue—his mistakes. Halfies are a little more filled out in form, possessing three dimensions and stains of colour, but still incomplete. The blessed 'chosen' are the Alldunns—those requiring no further work. They reside in the Castle above the Gardens (where the Halfies are sequestered) at the edges of the Forbidden Forest (where the Sketchies a forced to hide). Holding the seat of authority is one known as The Great Chandelier; this is a man who assumes knowledge of the Painter's 'plan' and is therefore dangerously influential.

Claire, a Halfie, and Ramo, her beloved Alldunn, meet in secret to avoid the persecution of their respective tribes. Soon the two are forced to separate and Lola, one of Claire's Halfie friends, joins Ramo and a Sketchie named Quill on a quest to find the Painter. Their mutual goal: to get their creator to finish the work he abandoned.

Ramo, Lola, and Quill making their way through the Forbidden Forest.
Note the physical divisions placed between each character in the scene.

It is through the journey of these unlikely compatriots that the audience becomes increasingly aware of how deeply their cultural stratification is rooted. While certainly more open to equality than others, Ramo and Lola remain in a more preferred position than Quill. Ramo is a privileged Alldunn whose respect for Halfies stems mainly from his blind love for Claire. Though he abhors injustice and the gang mentality exhibited by his fellow Alldunns, his dislike for Sketchies is made apparent on several occasions. Unlike Ramo, Lola is sympathetic to Quill's bumbling nature, but it could be said that she herself is a unique case in that she does not wish to be 'completed'. The girl feels that there is more to life than residing in the Castle and believes that something special is waiting for her beyond the confines of the world in which she lives. She is content with herself as an individual, embracing her aesthetic flaws by instead viewing them as unique attributes. While Lola does not understand Claire's feelings for Ramo, she is at least willing to help him along the way and, eventually, they gain a certain level of esteem for one another.

The studio.
Lola: "Maybe [the Painter] is nearby. You know, listening to us."
Quill, sarcastically: "Sure, that sounds likely!"

Back at the Castle, treatment of the lower classes gets steadily worse. The Great Chandelier is power-hungry and grows suspicious of Ramo's actions, so he takes Claire hostage and orders that the Sketchies be rounded up to work as slave labor. Since the Sketchies are barely formed creations, though, they are somewhat inept at carrying out basic tasks; The Great Chandelier is not pleased. He commands that the Halfies be abducted and their homes set on fire. One Alldunn youth jeers, "Sketchies, Halfies, what's the difference?"

Little do they know that the group of outcasts has made its way out of the Forbidden Forest—a place rumored to be deadly but what actually turns out to be both peaceful and beautiful. A general fear of the unknown resonates throughout this film, being the thing that keeps Halfies and Sketchies alike 'in their place' and prevents them from leaving their lot to pursue a better life away from the judgemental Alldunns.

Lola and the gang end up outside of their original painting in a derelict art studio. They discover that there are others like them who have been left to fend for themselves. Searching for answers and receiving none (not to mention having to face the horrifying fact that the Painter destroyed a vast amount of his own work without considering the creations inside), the trio are left to their own devices.

Ramo decides to come up with a solution of his own.

Taking various tubes of paint found around the studio, the group makes its way back to the Castle. Ramo gets captured and is set to face trial with Claire. Quill comes across the escaped Halfies who go on a bit of a creative rampage with the newfound colours, completing themselves as they see fit. They help the lovebirds escape and show the Alldunns who's boss...sort of.

The ending is actually a little disappointing. The Alldunns admire the freshly finished Halfies, wanting to try out the new colours themselves. Everyone joins in splattering The Great Chandelier with paint, effectively knocking him down a few pegs. Oddly, though, the Halfies and the Sketchies take no action against the Alldunns for all of their past injustices. They brutally murdered one of Quill's friends and forced others to be subservient to them by ruling through the use of violence and fear tactics, but nooooo, now that everyone can be an Alldunn things are just hunky-dory. Perhaps that is why Lola leaves without partaking in the painting party. She goes back to the studio and discovers a crack in the brick wall that leads outside into a photo-realistic world. The Painter sits before a canvas, musing over the ocean. They share a small exchange before Lola goes off to see more of the world. La fin brusque.

Lola, to the Painter: "Now I want to know who painted you!"

I realized partway through writing this post that I was committing the cardinal sin of plot summarization. Shame on me. Out of college for only one month and I am already losing my touch. :P

For further information:

• The Painting on IMDB

Symbolism: The Seventh Seal

"Who will take care of that child? Is it the angels or God or Satan or just emptiness?" —Jöns

During the mid-fourteenth century, knight Antonius Block (Max von Sydow) and his squire Jöns (Gunnar Björnstrand) have finished their crusade in the Holy Land and return to their homeland of Sweden to find it devastated by the bubonic plague. Block challenges Death (Bengt Ekerot) to a game of chess, hoping to buy some time before he himself is taken. The man desires knowledge of the afterlife (a wee bit like good ol' Doc Faustus), believing that his life has been pointless and that God is, if not uncaring, then unfairly silent. As they journey to Block's castle, the duo run into a troupe of performers, a procession of flagellants, and masses of terrified of villagers—some of whom join Block's entourage as he makes his way home and tries to escape the reach of the black death and an impending apocalypse.

This 1957 film by Ingmar Bergman (based on his own play entitled Wood Painting), is widely known for being philosophical and contains such themes as the silence of a 'Divine Being', the indifference of death, the meaning of human existence, et cetera. Because of its use of motifs, I thought it pertinent to do a post on symbolism present in The Seventh Seal. If you are unaware, a symbol is a thing that stands for something else—especially a material object that represents something abstract.

Not Rated. I would say at least PG for portrayals of death and implications of rape.

Amazing poster by artist Jim Perez, taken from here.

The number seven: The title of the film refers to a passage from the Book of Revelation in Christian eschatology. It is used both at the beginning and near the end of the story, each time emphasizing the number seven. That seems to be a popular digit in the Bible (used no less than seven hundred thirty-five times throughout—fifty-four in Revelations alone). In the context of the film, it is introduced thusly:

And when the Lamb broke the seventh seal,

there was silence in heaven for about the space of half an hour.

And I saw the seven angels which stood before God;

and to them were given seven trumpets.

According to BibleStudy.org, "seven is the number of completeness and perfection (both physical and spiritual). It derives much of its meaning from being tied directly to God’s creation of all things." I found this interesting, as the film's focus seems to be more on destruction. A genius parallel made by Bergman? Both Block and Jöns speak of mirroring themselves, and creation v. destruction is a perfect duality reflected in all aspects of life. Anyhow, the 'breaking' of the seven seals is meant to bring on the apocalypse, and the only one deemed worthy of opening the book/scroll that is held shut by the seals is a "Lamb having seven horns and seven eyes." To the characters in this story—and to those who lived during that time in history—surely the arrival of such a plague would have made it seem as though the end was nigh and punishment from their God was imminent.

Crows: This symbol stretches well outside the confines of the film and into both folk tradition and pop culture. Most obviously, perhaps, crows represent death as they are scavengers that feed off of the freshly fallen. Their black colour paints them as harbingers of evil and allies of the occult. Throughout history, people have looked upon crows as masqued holders of both great secrets and memories of ancient ways. The very first shot in The Seventh Seal is of a cloudy sky, a crow streaking across the heavens.

The sea: Block and Jöns arrive in their native land on a beach. This is also where the former first encounters the personification of Death and where the travelling acrobats take refuge at the end of the film. The ocean symbolizes travel—a journey—as well as earth's primality. As I recently learned in an Asian studies/humanities course, water is also a form of purification...though I am not sure if the same understanding is held in Western European countries where, in the middle ages, many pious individuals refused to bathe as they believed it to invite sinfulness and—ironically—disease. At any rate, Block washes his face with sea water and prays next to the waves, so he must have felt something divine at such a locale. (For those interested, these scenes were shot at Hovs Hallar in north-western Scania.)

One of the flagellants grasping a human skull. Kudos to the props dept...I've seen worse.

Black & White: Colours should also be taken into consideration when analyzing symbols. These two are especially important not only because The Seventh Seal is filmed sans colour so as to better highlight the striking contrast, but also because of the game of chess between Block and Death. The board and the pieces are clearly defined, illustrating the difference between what some perceive as good v. evil. When first choosing their sides Block remarks, "You have black," to which Death responds, "It's most appropriate, isn't it?" It is also worth noting that whilst Death is clad in a pure black cloak his visage is stark white like a skull. I choose to interpret this particular symbolism as follows: we all die, our flesh fading to cartilage, our consciousness turning to nothingness. Deep, eh?

Travel: Life is transitory. The characters in this film move from one place to the next only to reach their final destination in death.

Religion: 'Protection' from death. Priests act as fearmongers, going so far as to commission a painting of the dance of death to "remind people they will die," and hiring the troupe of performers to put on a play during an All Saints Festival in Elsinore that will drive more people to repent for their sins. Even Block makes a confession to someone whom he thinks is a holy man, only later finding out that it is Death in disguise. The reaper infiltrates all aspects of life—religion is naught but a construct to fend off our innate fears.

Omens of the Last Day: Medieval villagers tend to be a little superstitious. To be fair, I would be too if "a woman gave birth to a calf" or if people had "cleaned themselves by fire and died." That's some dark juju. One of my favourite aspects of learning history has to do with understanding the mentality of a society, something which is often tied to belief systems and the intersection of faith with daily life. While this film is more allegorical rather than historically accurate (esp. given that the last Swedish Crusade took place in the late 1200s and the plague didn't hit until half a century later, or that large scale witch hunts didn't begin until the 1400s), each character's reaction to his or her circumstance was believable enough to be appreciated.

Names: "Antonius" is Swedish in origin and means "priceless," much like life, as he discovers. Mia (Bibi Andersson), the female travelling performer whom Block becomes somewhat protective of, also goes by the name of Mary (as in the Virgin mother). To get back into colour symbolism for a moment, Mia wears white: something that is internationally recognized as purity. Her husband, Jof (Nils Poppe), is sometimes referred to as "Joseph." Biblical references abound. Spoiler: They and their infant son Mikael (AKA "Gift from God") are the only ones to survive. [Oh, by the way, that seven-horned, seven-eyed lamb from earlier? "Rachel" is Hebrew for "ewe." Just sayin'. o_o]

"I am unknowing." —Death

For further information:

• The Seventh Seal on IMDB

Animation, Music, and Title Sequences: A Cat in Paris

"In Paris, a cat who lives a secret life as a cat burglar's aide must come to the rescue of Zoe, the little girl he lives with, after she falls into a gangster's clutches."

—IMDB's description of A Cat in Paris (AKA Une vie de chat)

Rated PG for mild violence and action, plus some thematic material.

The creative team who put this film together did an excellent job combining animation (the style a mix of Cubism and Art Deco) with a jazzy, noir-esque OST. A snippet of this can be seen/heard in the title sequence in the below video. I just spent the last half hour trying to figure out specific HTML coding hijinks required by Blogger which would allow me to set the start and end time for this video, but my tech skills are apparently lacking. Skip to 2:13 and watch until 3:09 to see the title sequence.

The use of colour also helps set the tone.

This film has greatly increased my appreciation for animation as a serious form of storytelling. From the end of the nineties up until now, I have found that most forms of drawn or computer generated animation—at least in the Western Hemisphere—tend to be light-hearted (The Triplets of Belleville and The Iron Giant are both obvious exceptions to the rule). Cartoons out of the '30s thru to the '60s were oftentimes quite creepy or incredibly violent (I'm looking at you, Disney and Warner Bros.). The '80s saw a regression into that same sort of darkness with films like The Brave Little Toaster and The Land Before Time...both of which I am sure will let loose some repressed nightmares tonight as I sleep. Such strolls through the uncanny valley aren't exactly my cup of tea.

I prefer animated films not for their superficiality but for being fantastical with a touch of realism. A Cat in Paris pulls this off by including a few of those 'darker' facets of life and portraying them in a not-so-fearsome light. Child abduction? Sure. Graphic child abuse? Hell no. Pets that protect their human companions? Sounds great. Animals that maul people? Not so much. The above may be construed as hypocritical as I adamantly believe in free speech/free art, but while I do not think any animated films should cease to exist simply because I do not agree with their storytelling techniques on a personal level, that does not mean I have to enjoy watching them...or, indeed, even watch them at all.

For more information:

• A Cat in Paris on IMBD
• Official Website
• Watch on Netflix

Comparison: The Devil's Backbone & Pan's Labyrinth

Halloween, my favourite holiday, is just around the bend. In honour of the age old end-of-harvest festival, I decided to watch a horror movie—for you, dear readers, for you. I, er...I don't like that particular film genre. At all. Bit of a wuss, when it comes right down to it. Being that the film in question was Guillermo del Toro’s The Devils's Backbone, though, I was more than willing to make an exception.

[Tangent: The same was true for Don't Be Afraid of the Dark when it first came out in cinemas back in 2010, and that turned out to be a big steaming pile of...well, it wasn't very good. The whole thing with the teeth supplied a week's worth of nightmare fuel. Still, it might be worth writing about the sheer fairy tale-esqueness present in a lot of del Toro's works. For instance, remember my "Ofelia & Little Red Riding Hood" post? Couldn't help but notice Sally fulfills the same role, as does Carlos from TDB. Another blog for another time, perhaps.]

During my viewing of The Devil's Backbone (2001), I noticed how many similarities it shares with Pan's Labyrinth (2006), so onto the comparison! Spoilers ahoy. Also, see my original post on PL here.

Both rated R for violence, language, and (in TDB) some sexuality.

Plot Overview

The Devil's Backbone: The story revolves around a young orphaned boy named Carlos (Fernando Tielve) whose father was recently killed during the ongoing Spanish Civil War. Forced to stay at a destitute orphanage, Carlos comes across "The One Who Sighs," AKA the ghost of the drowned Santi (Junio Valverde) who warns that "many of you will die." Uncovering Santi's murderer and a plot to steal Republican gold, Carlos bands together with his teachers and fellow orphans to rid the place of evil.

Pan's Labyrinth: Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) travels to the Spanish countryside with her pregnant mother (Ariadna Gil) where they will stay with her new stepfather, the cruel Captain Vidal (Sergi López). Once there, she encounters a fantastical world and her true identity as Princess Moanna. She must undergo trials both real and figmental in order to make her way back to the Underworld Kingdom.

Notable similarities: Both plots have to do with children thrown into worlds with which they are unfamiliar and unhappy. Carlos and Ofelia's fathers are dead, each child exists in a world with supernatural tendencies, and both are made to do 'adult' things on their own. Each film carries a not-so-subtle dose of political and religious conflict, as well.

Setting

The Devil's Backbone: An orphanage in the middle of what looks like a desert in Spain during the civil war. The place is run down and spectacularly eerie, especially in the Pit where Santi hangs out, or even the courtyard with the big ol' defunct missile planted nose-first in the dirt. Everything has an amber tone, calling back the title sequence where Santi's blood fills the clay-rich water deposit and makes it look as though he is either frozen in amber or floating in amniotic fluid (like Dr. Casares' 'limbo water'). Gross, del Toro, gross.

Pan's Labyrinth: This one takes place just after the war. Ofelia is taken to an old mill house situated in a lush forest that is also home to an ancient labyrinth and, via a chalk-drawn door, the Pale Man's lair. One word: disturbing. Most every scene is tinted with green which helps get across a feeling of almost sacred nature. You should have left that part of the world untouched, Vidal.

Notable similarities: Carlos and Ofelia are driven to their respective new homes; you know, in a car. With the former there is a sense of entering into utter isolation while the latter gives audiences the impression that there are plenty of creatures hiding just out of sight.

Jacinto & Vidal looking a bit the worse for wear.

Characters

The Devil's Backbone: Apart from Carlos and Santi, there are a slew of other parentless boys including opponent-turned-friend Jaime (Íñigo Garcés). Other important characters include the amputee mistress of the orphanage, Carmen (Marisa Paredes), the incredibly loyal and poetic Dr. Casares (Federico Luppi), ever-dedicated Conchita (Irena Visedo), and the dubious Jacinto (Eduardo Noriega). ♪ Guess which one's the baaaadie... ♫

Pan's Labyrinth: The guerrillas who fight against the Captain and his men are themselves like orphans, in a way. As for main characters, who can forget Mercedes (Maribel Verdú)? Once Ofelia's mother dies, this strong woman steps in and shows her true colours as a rebel loyalist. Then there are the preternatural beings of the film, including the faun and the Pale Man (both portrayed by Doug Jones). Ofelia's baby brother also plays a pivotal role.

Notable similarities: There is not one character lacking complexity. Oddly, the matriarchal figures in both stories are named Carmen, each film contains a kindhearted doctor, and the villainous arseholes are off the scale when it comes to acts of evil.

Style

Notable similarities: The set design is accurate for each respective time period and does its job in supplying shivers. The same goes for costuming and the incredible makeup. Santi is a truly terrifying little kid given his zombie-like appearance, cracked skull, and, er...blood plume. Don't even get me started on why the Pale Man is one of the scariest movie monsters of all time. As for SFX, Pan's Labyrinth has a bit of a leg up given that it came out five years after TDB, but del Toro was smart and did not overdo anything so as to make it look campy. The musical score ups the creep factor in every way imaginable.

Jesus H Christ.

Symbolism

Notable similarities: Containing not so much iconic imagery as meaningful actions, both films feature a 'descent' by the protagonist into the unknown. Audiences' hearts race with the characters as there are two distinct 'My sole salvation lies just...out of...reach!' scenes, seemingly miles of dark, horrifying hallways, and main baddies who are brought down by their own egos and greed.

Conclusion

The Devil's Backbone: Happy/sad, highlighting the happy. The villain gets his and, while Santi's death toll predictions were correct, the remaining survivors leave the orphanage. Waving goodbye is the ghost of an old ally... "Europe is sick with fear, and fear sickens the soul." —Dr. Casares

Pan's Labyrinth: Happy/sad, highlighting the sad. Vidal meets his end, but so does Ofelia. While she makes it to her Underground Kingdom and is surrounded by those she loves, the audience is left wondering if it was all just in her head.

Tearjerker Moments

The Devil's Backbone:

"Stay by my side as my light grows dim / as my blood slows down and my nerves shatter with stabbing pain / as my heart grows weak / and the wheels of my being turn slowly / Stay by my side / as my fragile body is racked by pain / which verges on truth / and manic time / continues scattering dust / and furious life bursts out in flames / Stay by my side / as I fade / so you can point to the end of my struggle / and the twilight of eternal days / at the low, dark edge of life..."

Pan's Labyrinth: When the Doctor (Álex Angulo) euthanizes the stutterer El Tarta (Ivan Massagué).

For further information:

• The Devil's Backbone on IMDB