POOR

PERSPECTIVE.

a pick six

by Hunter Jon

Proper perspective is one of the easiest things to achieve when making a movie. Yet everywhere I look I see sloppy, inconsistent, ill-thought-out perspective ruining perfectly good movies.

What do I mean by perspective? In a roundabout, broad sense I just mean whose point-of-view the movie is from. I believe that if you have a leading character mostly everything should be shown through their eyes. Not literally, of course. There are entire “first-person” movies out there, as they’re now known, where the camera literally assumes the position of the character’s eyes (like “Lady in the Lake” or “Hardcore Henry”), as is common in video games. But I’m not talking about that. I’m merely talking about scenes that are figuratively and/or thematically seen from an individual perspective. If you subscribe to this wholly, then said individual is in every scene. We only see what they see. We are only present when they are. (A good old fashioned way of establishing whose perspective propels a movie is to have that character narrate.) So that’s what I mean when I say perspective.

Now, obviously, this all depends on the story you’re telling. If you’re presenting an ensemble piece, with lots of characters and storylines, then, naturally, you’re going to be juggling multiple perspectives. But when it comes to movies with a clear main character - is all I just described always necessary? No. There are no rules in filmmaking. There’s no right or wrong way to do anything. Certain movies just work. Period. After all - whose perspective is “Dog Day Afternoon” from? It’s all over the map. If you had to nail it down, it’s from our perspective. And that’s just one of endless brilliant movies that don’t subscribe to any set perspective.

Like, if you were to pitch me “The Truman Show” I’d say that, here - maybe more than ever - is where committing to a first person perspective will enhance your movie in just about every way. It’s a no brainer. To do it any other way takes all the mystery out of your mystery. I would have been wrong. The filmmakers (notably director Peter Weir and writer Andrew Niccol) knew better. They show us, the audience, everything that Truman, their lead, can’t see. They have scenes without Truman in them the first chance they get. They not only show us behind the scenes of the ‘show’ but even go so far as to introduce us to various people watching the ‘show’. Because of this, the audience watches the movie from the perspective of what they are: an audience. Which not only comfortably puts us in our place, but raises all sorts of great questions about the morals of manipulation and voyeurism. And makes for a wonderful movie. All because those involved weren’t interested in making a gimmicky Twilight Zone episode with a twist ending. They took a more human approach.

So there’s your proof that a movie can deviate from its perspective grain and still be great. I’ll give you another example. I mentioned narration earlier - well, “Goodfellas”, which features arguably the greatest narration of all time by Ray Liotta’s Henry Hill, also lets the character of Karen, played perfectly by Lorraine Bracco, narrate once she’s introduced. This fractures the perspective. Maybe even shatters it altogether. However, that’s a decision Marty (and maybe Nic) put a lot of thought into, I’m sure. And it was done very consciously. All I’m asking is that filmmakers put as much care and consideration into choosing their movie’s perspective as possible. And good directors use narrative and aesthetic tactics to establish proper perspective. Let’s look at exhibit A, for instance...

To me, “To Kill a Mockingbird” is flawlessly directed. Which means you can learn a lot from it. Mainly, how to intertwine visuals and a narrative so that they become cinema at its purest and best. First and foremost, this story is told from the point of view of children. We see everything through their eyes. The audience doesn’t enter the courtroom until the kids do. They’re not present when Tom Robinson is murdered, so neither are we. We find out about the killing when Atticus tells the children. There’s even a brilliant piece of blocking when he does where Peck’s back is sort of turned to camera, because that’s literally what the kids would be seeing at that moment. He can’t bear to look at them as he admits what he feels is defeat...

Furthermore, we witness the next scene, where a racist spits on Finch, solely because Jem does - he’s tagged along and watches from the front seat of their parked car. I could go on and on, but the simple fact is that if the kids don’t see/hear it - the audience doesn’t. This movie makes that decision and commits to it. It’s just one of the ways it achieves perfection.

I rewatched “My Best Friend’s Wedding” recently (as you do) and was reminded of how pitch-perfect Hogan’s direction is. Julia hasn’t seen Dermot in many years when he calls. She can only hear him. So the audience, appropriately, can also only hear him.

It’s a bold choice - mostly due to the length of the call; Roberts has to handle the whole scene herself with no cutaways. Thankfully, she was in her prime and made it look easy. This commendable restraint makes their reunion at the airport not just more meaningful but more cinematic - because it’s the first time we see Mulroney’s face in the movie. Imagine the following moment if we'd already been introduced to this character and therefore knew what he looked like...

It’s an emotional (and priceless) reveal that the movie earns with patience. By comparison, there’s a scene in “Judy” where Renée Zellweger chats on the phone to her daughter who, narratively, she misses so much that it hurts. But, cinematically (aka visually), the movie intercuts between both characters. So, as an audience member, I don’t miss her kid - I can see her right there.

This brings me to a very specific complaint I have when it comes to the current state of survival stories on screen: by cutting away from a central character fighting to survive, you’re crumpling up all the tension you’ve worked so hard to create and tossing it out the window. Especially if you’re shifting focus to someone on their way to save the person in peril. There’s a reason “Cast Away” works: we don’t get off the island until Tom does. Can you imagine cutaways to Helen Hunt butting heads with the coast guard in a helicopter desperately trying to track Tom down? That would have been stupid. Tom is stranded, therefore so are we.

This marries us emotionally to the character; some audience members might not even realize this has happened. But if it went away - they’d feel its absence in their gut.

Hanks’ character is wondering what Hunt’s is doing right now and misses her...

… because this is all he has of her - a faded little photo. It’s all we have, too, so we feel the same way. Perfect. Perspective.

Let’s talk about structure. Here’s all I have to say about how it relates to perspective: “Pulp Fiction” is broken into three acts. The first is from the perspective of Vincent (John Travolta), the second Butch (Bruce Willis) and the third Jules (Samuel L. Jackson). I love how clean and clear this is. It makes an otherwise complicated, crisscrossing movie easy to follow. I just wanted to point that out. (Although more on “Pulp Fiction” later...)

I’m not saying perspective has to always belong to one person. Like I said, “To Kill a Mockingbird” is told through the eyes of not just Scout but the kids as a collective. Maybe your movie takes place from the vantage point of a specific culture or race. I happen to believe that “Out of Africa” is told through the eyes of the country itself, not the lead characters passing through. Sometimes you paint with broader strokes and can be forgiven for colouring outside the lines here and there (a scene or two without your main character). Yes, ideally, you craft a movie so precisely that you don’t need to do this - but sometimes movies take on their own life, and begin writing their own story. In which case you’d be foolish to forcefully reign it back in just because it’s not adhering to “rules” you set for yourself when you sat down to write it/make it/film it. Again, restrictions are the creativity/imagination killer.

Anyway, here are a handful of relatively recent movies that I recognize as having screwy, thoughtless perspective.

(I’ve included an inappropriate amount of honourable mentions)

THE REPORT (2019)

Let’s kick things off with a gripe so simple: In this movie, Adam Driver’s character pieces together the troubling puzzle of how the government went about torturing prisoners post September 11th. He was not present for any said torturing. I don’t think the audience should be either. Yet this movie features violent flashbacks of just that, presented in a wildly different visual style than the rest of the movie. If you ask me, this is a damn shame for so many reasons. But one above all: by showing these brutal scenes I can’t watch this movie with my mum. Which is ironic, because the point of the movie seems to be to teach an important history lesson and raise as much awareness as possible.

DISTRICT 9 (2009)

This begins as a found-footage movie. It drops the conceit sometime before the second act. Some may see this as slick sleight of stylistic hand. All I see is a movie that can’t decide what it wants to be. It starts from the literal point of view of a camera(s), but the instant that choice gets in the way of where it wants to go it switches gears, abandoning a bold (and impressive) commitment. To be fair, once the change occurs they do stick with their leading man and resist the urge to cut back and forth between him and those hunting him. Points for that. But this truly is a filmmaker having his cake and eating it, too. Which I always mark down as worrisome. Because with indecision comes inconsistency. And with inconsistency comes wavering quality. And with wavering quality comes “Chappie”.

ELVIS (2022)

It comes outta the gate as the Colonel’s movie. He’s the first person we meet and he’s narrating. But it becomes Presley’s picture pretty quickly, despite Hanks’ persistent narration. However, it proceeds to flirt back and forth as to whose eyes we’re behind. This is perhaps how Luhrmann justifies omitting crucial moments in Elvis’ life that any other storyteller would consider key. Like getting the news that his mother has died. Or meeting Priscilla (there’s a fantastic scene in the 1979 movie-of-the-week starring Kurt Russell where he and her lock eyes for the first time; that version gives me everything I could ever ask for from an Elvis bio-pic). Maybe he convinced himself that he didn’t need such scenes in his Colonel-centric movie. The Colonel or The King? Pick a lane, Baz. Plus, a majority of this movie is dedicated to meticulously recreating, with fervour, the biggest public moments of the titular man’s life. But I can watch those on YouTube - and they’ll always be better because they’re the real guy. When I come to a movie like this I hope to be taken behind sacred closed doors and shown what his/her most private moments might have looked, sounded and felt like. I don’t hope for a mess like this.

JOHN WICK: CHAPTER 3 - PARABELLUM (2019)

I love the idea of this franchise. Honest. Both the initial set-up that kicked things off and that it’s the little-franchise-that-could. But there are two things really preventing me from enjoying it fully. See, ever since the success of the MCU, studios seem determined to do two things with every potential franchise: build worlds and assemble teams. It’s a troubling trend, if you ask me. And much to its detriment, I think, this series has gotten carried away with doing just that. I don’t know about you, but I’d like these movies to be lean, mean, ninety-minute Keanu Reeves fighting machines. Ideally with as few Keanu-less scenes as possible. But with every instalment the world around Wick grows larger. More and more characters are added to the roster. He even teams up with Halle Berry in this third, uh, ‘chapter’. All this means less screen time for Keanu. Boo-urns. You know it’s become a major problem when, at about 31 minutes into this threequel, there are seven whole minutes of bland side characters talking with John Wick nowhere in sight. It’s simply bad for business, whether fans can put their finger on it yet or not. This is the story of a piece-of-iron lone wolf continually going up against literal armies. There’s no need for expanding the universe. And we certainly don’t need him to assemble a rag-tag team of misfits. These plots should be straight as arrows - and exclusively through the eyes of John Wick.

RED STATE (2011)

There’s potential for a great moment in this movie: three teenage boys are being held hostage by a cult of racist/sexist/homophobic nutbars. One of the teens grabs an assault rifle, makes a run for it and escapes outside - only to immediately be shot. Cue the magnificently dark, twisted reveal that ATF agents are situated outside the compound. They’re there to rescue the boys but a local officer mistakingly fired a fatal first shot. Now, this would be a great moment… if we hadn’t already moved away from the tense, terrifying cult-doings a few scenes earlier to see Agent Keegan (John Goodman) get the crucial call explaining that blah blah blah and he needs to blah blah blah. So the twisted dark reveal has the wind sucked out of its sails by us already knowing that the ATF are on their way. It would have worked much better - and been ten times more shocking - had Goodman yelling “Who fired!?” been the introduction of his character and the ATF in general. I could point out a few other poor perspective choices here, but I think that one best sums up how misguided this whole movie is. Smith similarly bungled up “Tusk” by repeatedly moving the focus away from the compelling kidnapper/kidnappee conflict and placing it on those searching for their missing friend.

COMPLIANCE (2012)

This is based on a true story. Someone posing as a police officer called a McDonald’s saying an employee needed to be strip searched. A retched case of sexual assault followed, with various parties choosing to obey a mere voice on the other end of a phone. Turning such a heartbreaking incident into a movie is tricky business. You must tread lightly, portraying people fairly but not shying away from the unfortunate truths the case revealed. However, this movie gets it all wrong from the get-go and then refuses to yield. It shows us, every step of the way, the man on the other end of the phone. His casual disposition, at times suppressing chuckles and even at one point making a sandwich, feels terribly naive and off-base. We miss the inherent malicious intent that is built-in to a foul crime like this. So what should be cringe-worthy at worst and scary-as-hell at best is instead just insulting somehow. I don’t mean any disrespect by making this comparison, as this one was inspired by real events - but take a lesson from the movie “Phone Booth” and don’t show the caller. Just... don’t. For so many obvious reasons. This true-life crime remains clouded by confusion, mystery and disbelief. The identity of the caller should be, too.

GET OUT (2017)

Quick fix: Don’t have a single scene without Daniel Kaluuya’s character in it. No jump-scare prologue. No girlfriend getting coffee and donuts. And especially no comic-relief buddy trying to convince the authorities that Chris is missing. This would not only have made the plot more convincing, but more unnerving - and scarier. I think Peele should have made intimacy and claustrophobia his priorities here. But, alas - that’s not the movie he was interested in making.

DUNKIRK (2017)

Nolan’s always enjoyed taking a linear narrative and shuffling it together like a deck of cards. Sometimes this works to the movie’s advantage. Other times it just causes confusion. Here’s how this movie is structured, as we’re told by on-screen supers: one week on the beach, one day on the boat and one hour in the air. Ok. I’m with ya so far. That’s not too convoluted. But Nolan looses me by splicing together the three timelines so that everything appears to be happening at once. The supposed pay-off is when we watch a ship sink while, in the near future, a young soldier is rescued from the wreck, pulled out of the oil soaked water and to safety. Hurrah! Credits. But the sinking of the ship and him being pulled from the oily water happen at the same time on screen. It intercuts furiously between the two set pieces and we’re supposed to wonder if the man being pulled aboard is the one we’ve been following the whole movie - the one whose ship is sinking. His face bursting through the thick oil is the big reveal that he’s alive. Here’s the thing - I don’t think anyone understood that that was happening as they watched the movie. I think the whole idea of watching him go down with the ship intercut with his rescue was lost on most of the audience. I bet they thought those were two separate characters and that one drowned and one was rescued. With this in mind, widen the scope out even further… how many people got the whole: one day, one hour, one week thing? Anyone? And - AND - where were the higher ranking army guys staying during this week on the beach? I understand that the soldiers were simply sleeping in the sand, hoping not to die. But Kenny Branagh was clean shaven every time we saw him. You’re telling me a week went by? I think Nolan and his crew captured some exceptional footage on this picture. If only they’d assembled it accessibly… and provided a friendlier perspective.

THE IRISHMAN (2019)

I’d go right back to the drawing board to solve this one and tell a very different story without changing a fact. I’d come at this sordid tale from the point of view of the daughter - the rightful main character. Picture this movie instead: a young girl’s father is hardly ever home and suspiciously comes and goes at odd hours. He’s cold, distant and rarely speaks unless he’s doling out discipline. She basically grows up without any support or love from him and not believing a word he says. Then a man enters her life - the dream father she never had. They form a special, loving bond and she comes of age while he’s a close friend of the family. His name is Jimmy Hoffa. The one good thing her father ever did was bring her uncle Jimmy into her life. One day, now a young woman, she hears Hoffa’s gone missing. His disappearance becomes one of the biggest news stories of the times… and not a day goes by that she doesn’t suspect her father of murder. “My Father Paints Houses” starring Anna Paquin.

ONCE UPON A TIME… IN HOLLYWOOD (2019)

The first Tarantino movie that I fully didn’t like. I thought it was a mess and an irresponsible one at that. Y’know, “Pulp Fiction” spins a ton of plates but is so tightly braided that we’re never lost or overwhelmed. Conversely, I have no idea what or who the hell I’m following in this movie. Or why we go half the places we go. One of the many things that makes “Pulp Fiction” so great (and original) is that the characters are constantly discussing things that we never get to see. Maybe this is a Bruce-the-Shark situation where he would have shown them had he had the budget and production limitations inadvertently elevated (and simplified) the final product. Either way, he certainly has the money now and, well, enjoys showing everything. We see nearly everything referenced by any character. There are fictional movies/shows in this world? Let’s watch them! Pacino had a cigar last night? Let’s show it! Leo’s character was almost cast in “The Great Escape”? Let’s see what that would’ve looked like! Pitt’s in a flashback? Let him flashback within that flashback! Tate is reminded of something? Quick - cut to it! I suppose giving every single character the ability to conjure these cutaways up is meant to create a generous, rich mosaic. But personally it just gives me a cinematic headache, as I don’t know which character’s head I’m supposed to be in; whose eyes I’m looking through. And it’s all narrated by Kurt Russell’s veteran stunt coordinator character? Yeesh. I guess another argument is that it’s an ensemble piece - duh. Y’know, like those American Imperial Pictures. However, I suspect there’s something else going on here… that Quentin has so little to say this go around and it’s all just noise. This movie is about nothing. And the evidence is in the scattered, jumbled, untamed and ungrounded perspective.

HAMILTON (2020)

I applaud this show for its approach and intentions. I really do. But, c’mon…it’s called Hamilton. As in Alexander Hamilton. Yet it’s barely about the guy. It opens with a show-stopping number summing up his life thus far as he arrives in New York Harbour. I would have this song open the second act, having actually shown all these extraordinary feats of life in the first act. It’s like we missed all the most unbelievable bits of his story, just in time to, well, waste time. The musical spends just as much time (if not more) on the people around Hamilton and rooting you in the times as it does on Hamilton himself. And not in a deliberate - let’s get to know this guy by hearing from the people who knew him best - way, a la “Jesus Christ Superstar”. No. More in a - we don’t actually know how to tell a coherent story - way. As a result, it never really breaks through the surface of politics nor explores Alexander Hamilton in any intimate, three dimensional way. It’s a thorough history lesson, to be sure, but I walked away merely knowing of Hamilton’s brain and nothing of his heart. It’s also makes the mistake of telling us how brilliant he is rather than demonstrating his brilliance first hand. All in all, this feels like a thinning third act of a much larger play which compensates with endless energy, supporting players and subplots that, again, aren’t designed to dissect the lead. And for God’s sake - get rid of those King numbers. Sure, they get big laughs, but also demonstrate what a mess this whole thing is. Particularly in its tone. And, of course, it all comes back to perspective: why have the King sing if Hamilton can’t hear him?

MA RAINEY’S BLACK BOTTOM (2020)

Here we run up against the problem with most stage-to-screen adaptations: the desire to get out into the world. A lot of plays, by nature of how most are performed, take place in one location. Usually an interior. The first thing a bad director will want to do is add elaborate exterior sequences to “open it up” and make it more “cinematic”. Whereas a good director will instinctually leave the thing alone (see: Mike Nichols, Sidney Lumet, Robert Altman). One of the main reasons you should probably go the second route, especially if the play is well written, is because there’s a good chance it’s been carefully crafted and designed to introduce certain characters at precise moments. This particular movie should have trusted playwright August Wilson. He knew what he was doing. In his version, Ma Rainey shows up very late in the game. There’s been a ton of dialogue back and forth about her, her talent, her diva nature and how incredibly late she currently is. The play builds and builds like a pressure cooker up to the moment when she walks in the door - and, more importantly, the moment she first sings. We finally get what all the fuss is about… and begin to believe she was worth waiting for. But this movie strays from Wilson’s architecture, adding a few scenes outside of the main location and timeline. It opens with a big Ma Rainey performance. No waiting. No curiosity. No suspense. She sings up front. Then it makes the fatal mistake of showing Rainey making her way to the recording studio. This would be like showing Jessica Rabbit in her dressing room before she takes the stage. You ruin your whole reveal. So why do it? Simple: fear. They’re scared audiences will be bored if a movie takes place in one or two rooms and features nothing but dialogue. They’re scared people will be confused as to why Viola Davis, the star on the poster, hasn’t shown up yet. “One Night in Miami” suffers from very similar problems. It should take place entirely in and around that hotel room. But it’s too afraid to. It doesn’t have the courage. In both instances what you’re ultimately left with is a strong story spoiled by shoddy, ever-shifting perspective. What a waste.

DARKEST HOUR (2017)

This movie wants to be one of those that places an iconic figure in a supporting role and explores them through the eyes of a lesser known lead character (like in the delightful “Me and Orson Welles”, for example). But it also wants to win Gary Oldman an Oscar. So it has it both ways and weakens itself in the process. On one hand, you have that extravagant opening sequence where the audience is in Lily James’ shoes - drawn into the overwhelming word of Churchill. His final introduction is a delicious pay-off. You might, as I did, settle into this narrative of James being our lead and a fly-on-the-wall to everything the plot goes on to offer. But by the time we get to the best scene in the movie where Churchill has a private sit-down with King George VI, there’s been a clean swap: Oldman is now leading this picture and James is one dutiful step behind him. It’s a frustrating flip-flop for me. There’s a tv-movie called “Churchill’s Secret” starring Michael Gambon as Winston and Romola Garai as a nurse which does a better job of assigning the lead vs supporting roles (spoiler: Gambon is rightfully supporting) and honours that decision throughout. To make matters worse, this movie is full of little, annoying things like this: at one point Churchill knowingly sacrifices a station of troops for the greater good. The movie then shows us a soldier, surrounded by his fellows, receiving a letter telling him as much (or whatever) just as a bomb drops on his head and a massive explosion kills everyone in sight. So, why do we see this? I suspect one: the director’s ego. He’s got the money to shoot it, so he does. And his movie becomes bigger in scale. Huzzah! Personally, I wouldn’t have shot that brief scene. Because I believe that men like Churchill are able to make decisions like that because they don’t see the faces of the men they’re sacrificing. They never have to look into their eyes. They make calls like this from miles away in safe, dry rooms. So if that’s how Churchill was able to do what he did and sleep at night, and you’ve retroactively made him the lead of this picture, then we the audience should be sharing his experience. We should not see those young men’s faces. They should be a mere pin on a map full of pins, just as they were to Churchill when he made the tough call. But Joe Wright saw an opportunity for a big boom. To each their own, I guess.

THE REVENANT (2015)

My friend Kevin can tell you how to fix this movie - and he’s a chef. What does that tell you? When you’re telling a story of someone trying to survive, all the tension, suspense - your investment in general - deflates when you cut away from that edge-of-your-seat arc to indulge distracting, unnecessary subplots. Just cut any scene out of this sucker that isn’t Leo fighting for his life, bookend it with Tom Hardy, and you’ve got a cleaner, more riveting movie. Well, at least according to me… and chefs everywhere.

THE SHAPE OF WATER (2017)

What if this movie, which thinks it’s about a lonely woman who whimsically falls in love with a Gill-man, was actually just about a lonely woman who whimsically falls in love with a Gill-man? Instead, most of the plot concerns Michael Shannon running around his workplace (and home!) being a big meanie, Michael Stuhlbarg’s general anxiety (something about Russians, if my memory serves…?), Richard Jenkins (our ‘lonely’ leading lady’s best friend) eating pie and trying to sell Jello again and Octavia Spencer (another close friend of our ‘lonely’ lead) navigating her hollow marriage. The nugget of an idea for this movie is truly golden and beautiful. Del Toro’s choice to “flesh-out” every member of the ensemble and give each their own arc will always frustrate me. By the time he’s done there’s hardly any screen-time left for his ‘core’ romance, which ends up underdeveloped to a devastating degree. There shouldn’t even be an ensemble in the first place - Hawkins & Jones, and what they collectively bring to the screen, are plenty. And why is this secret government place so busy at night? You’d think having her work the midnight shift is so that she gets time alone with the creature when everyone else has gone home. But the joint is hoppin’ at all hours! Ugh. None of it makes any sense. Such a mess. So much to iron out. But first things first - never stray from Sally. Ever.