Alfred Hitchcock Reveals The Secret Sauce for Creating Suspense

Speak­ing at an Amer­i­can Film Insti­tute sem­i­nar in 1970, Alfred Hitch­cock revealed the essen­tial ingre­di­ents that went into mak­ing his films. When he stripped every­thing away, what Hitch­cock real­ly cared about was cre­at­ing sus­pense films (not mys­tery films) and get­ting the sus­pense ele­ment right. In the clip above, the direc­tor explains why sus­pense­ful scenes have to sim­mer for a time and then cool down prop­er­ly. Things can’t be brought to a rapid boil and then be quick­ly tak­en off the stove. Hitch­cock once made that mis­take in his 1936 film, Sab­o­tage. (Watch the offend­ing scene right below or find the full film here.)

Of course, Hitch­cock learned from his mis­take, and there­after shot count­less scenes where the sus­pense builds in the right way. But we par­tic­u­lar­ly want­ed to find one scene that pulls off the bomb sce­nario, and so here it goes. From 1957 to 1959, Hitch­cock pro­duced Sus­pi­cion, a tele­vi­sion series for NBC, and he per­son­al­ly direct­ed one episode called “Four O’Clock”. It fea­tures a watch­mak­er who sus­pects his wife of hav­ing an affair, and so, filled with jeal­ousy, he decides to mur­der her with a bomb made by his own hands. Things take an unex­pect­ed turn, how­ev­er, when two bur­glars tie him up in the base­ment with the tick­ing bomb. We leave you with the final, cli­mac­tic scene. You can watch the full episode on YouTube here.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

16 Free Hitch­cock Movies Online

Alfred Hitch­cock Explains the Plot Device He Called the ‘MacGuf­fin’

The Eyes of Hitch­cock: A Mes­mer­iz­ing Video Essay on the Expres­sive Pow­er of Eyes in Hitchcock’s Films

Alfred Hitchcock’s 7‑Minute Mas­ter Class on Film Edit­ing

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 2 ) |

Watch FLAMENCO AT 5:15, a Life-Affirming, Oscar-Winning Documentary About a Flamenco Dance Class

FLAMENCO AT 5:15, the Acad­e­my Award-win­ning short doc­u­men­tary, above, is a wel­come anti­dote to the depress­ing specter of youth­ful bod­ies in a chron­ic state of com­put­er-relat­ed pos­tur­al col­lapse.

Direc­tor Cyn­thia Scott’s thir­ty-minute vignette can­not help but show off the beau­ti­ful, high­ly trained physiques of the young dancers delv­ing into the art of fla­men­co at Canada’s Nation­al Bal­let School.

She also cap­tures the last­ing beau­ty of their instruc­tor, Susana Audeoud, then in her late 60s. Her pos­ture erect, her eyes shin­ing bright­ly in a face weath­ered by expe­ri­ence and time, Audeleoud shares one of flamenco’s great secrets—that its prac­tion­ers, unlike their coun­ter­parts in the bal­let, can con­tin­ue danc­ing until they die. (Audleoud her­self passed away on the first day of 2010, at the age of 93.)

Fla­men­co is an incred­i­bly exact­ing art, but Aude­loud and her hus­band, com­pos­er Anto­nio Rob­le­do, showed them­selves to be warm and good humored teach­ers.

All of us could ben­e­fit from fol­low­ing Aude­loud’s instruc­tions to her bare­foot pupils at the 1:10 mark. For­go your med­i­ta­tion app for a day and give it a try.

Or join the stu­dents in Robledo’s joy­ful group clap­ping exer­cise at the 8:00 mark.

Accord­ing to Aude­loud, fla­men­co dancers only dance when it’s nec­es­sary…

I know that most of us are utter­ly with­out train­ing, but it appears that we have entered a peri­od of extreme neces­si­ty.

So put on your shoes, stomp your feet, and clap as if no one is watch­ing.

You can find FLAMENCO AT 5:15 list­ed in our col­lec­tion of Free Doc­u­men­taries, a sub­set of our col­lec­tion, 4,000+ Free Movies Online: Great Clas­sics, Indies, Noir, West­erns, Doc­u­men­taries & More.

via Aeon

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Grace­ful Move­ments of Kung Fu & Mod­ern Dance Revealed in Stun­ning Motion Visu­al­iza­tions

1944 Instruc­tion­al Video Teach­es You the Lindy Hop, the Dance That Orig­i­nat­ed in 1920’s Harlem Ball­rooms

Sta­tis­tics Explained Through Mod­ern Dance: A New Way of Teach­ing a Tough Sub­ject

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er whose new play. Zam­boni Godot, is now play­ing in New York City in March 2017. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

Akira Kurosawa’s Adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe’s The Masque of the Red Death Finally in Production, Coming in 2020

The film­mak­ers we most respect tend not to stop work­ing until the very end, and so almost always leave pieces of incom­plete projects behind. Stan­ley Kubrick did, giv­ing Steven Spiel­berg the chance to pick up where his elder col­league left off on the sci-fi dra­ma A.I.: Arti­fi­cial Intel­li­gence. That film began in the late 1970s as an adap­ta­tion of Bri­an Ald­iss’ short sto­ry “Super­toys Last All Sum­mer Long,” but over the decades became some­thing more tech­ni­cal­ly com­plex, and — giv­en Spiel­berg’s involve­ment — more emo­tion­al. What, now, will emerge from the res­ur­rec­tion of Aki­ra Kuro­sawa’s The Mask of the Black Death, a sim­i­lar­ly unmade adap­ta­tion of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death”?

“Chi­nese stu­dios Huayi Broth­ers and CKF Pic­tures will pro­duce the film based on the late Japan­ese filmmaker’s screen­play,” report­ed Indiewire’s Yoselin Aceve­do last week. “He start­ed pen­ning the film right after his 1975’s Der­su Uza­la.

Orig­i­nal­ly, the project was sup­posed to be filmed in 1998, but was shelved after Kuro­sawa suf­fered a stroke, and lat­er died that same year.” Kuro­sawa intend­ed to set his ver­sion of “The Masque of the Red Death” in Rus­sia, where he’d made Der­su Uza­la, and in an ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry when, accord­ing to a Cinephil­ia & Beyond post fea­tur­ing an Eng­lish trans­la­tion of the screen­play, “human­i­ty is faced with a dead­ly con­ta­gion, and people’s char­ac­ters, resilience and sur­vival are being test­ed as the soci­ety is pushed well into the brinks of despair and pos­si­ble anni­hi­la­tion.”

“The ‘Red Death,’ ” wrote Poe, “had long dev­as­tat­ed the coun­try. No pesti­lence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous.” A prince of this unnamed land sum­moned “a thou­sand hale and light-heart­ed friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclu­sion of one of his castel­lat­ed abbeys,” lav­ish­ly sup­plied behind its tight­ly barred doors. “With such pre­cau­tions the courtiers might bid defi­ance to con­ta­gion. The exter­nal world could take care of itself. In the mean­time it was fol­ly to grieve, or to think.” But months lat­er, at the stroke of mid­night dur­ing one of the prince’s mas­quer­ade balls, a “masked fig­ure which had arrest­ed the atten­tion of no sin­gle indi­vid­ual before” makes itself seen, pro­vok­ing “a buzz, or mur­mur, expres­sive of dis­ap­pro­ba­tion and sur­prise — then, final­ly, of ter­ror, of hor­ror, and of dis­gust.”

One imag­ines that such a milieu, as any­one who’s seen the omi­nous rev­el­ry on dis­play in Eyes Wide Shut, might have appealed to Kubrick as well. It cer­tain­ly appealed to pro­lif­ic “B‑movie” pro­duc­er Roger Cor­man, the man respon­si­ble for a 1964 adap­ta­tion star­ring Vin­cent Price and anoth­er 25 years lat­er star­ring Adri­an Paul from High­lander. But Kuro­sawa, a film­mak­er who showed a strong the­mat­ic inter­est in the upper class­es’ dis­re­gard for the rest of soci­ety in every­thing from katana-and-top­knots peri­od pieces like Sev­en Samu­rai to mod­ern-day crime sto­ries like High and Low, could have done Poe’s chill­ing Goth­ic tale spe­cial jus­tice. As for whether Huayi Broth­ers and CKF Pic­tures can do jus­tice to Kuro­sawa’s vision, his fans will find out in 2020 — per­haps walled tight­ly up in their home the­aters with his clas­sic pic­tures until then.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Aki­ra Kurosawa’s Advice to Aspir­ing Film­mak­ers: Write, Write, Write and Read

Aki­ra Kuro­sawa & Gabriel Gar­cía Márquez Talk About Film­mak­ing (and Nuclear Bombs) in Six Hour Inter­view

When Aki­ra Kuro­sawa Watched Solaris with Andrei Tarkovsky: I Was “Very Hap­py to Find Myself Liv­ing on Earth”

William S. Bur­roughs Reads Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death”

Down­load The Com­plete Works of Edgar Allan Poe: Macabre Sto­ries as Free eBooks & Audio Books

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Alfred Hitchcock Meditates on Suspense & Dark Humor in a New Animated Video

Back in 1957, while shoot­ing a film ten­ta­tive­ly called From Amongst The Dead (it would lat­er be titled Ver­ti­go), Alfred Hitch­cock sat down for an inter­view with Col­in Edwards, from Paci­fi­ca Radio. The con­ver­sa­tion touched on many good themes–how sus­pense works in his films, the role of dark humor and beyond.

A half cen­tu­ry lat­er, Blank on Blank has revived and ani­mat­ed that con­ver­sa­tion, thank­ful­ly bring­ing it back to life. You can find many more Blank on Blank rean­i­ma­tions of vin­tage inter­views in our archive, includ­ing talks with Pat­ti Smith, Nina Simone, Charles Bukows­ki, David Fos­ter Wal­lace and much more.

Look­ing for free, pro­fes­­sion­al­­ly-read audio books from Audible.com? Here’s a great, no-strings-attached deal. If you start a 30 day free tri­al with Audible.com, you can down­load two free audio books of your choice. Get more details on the offer here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Alfred Hitch­cock Reveals The Secret Sauce for Cre­at­ing Sus­pense

16 Free Hitch­cock Movies Online

Alfred Hitch­cock Explains the Plot Device He Called the ‘MacGuf­fin’

The Eyes of Hitch­cock: A Mes­mer­iz­ing Video Essay on the Expres­sive Pow­er of Eyes in Hitchcock’s Films

Alfred Hitchcock’s 7‑Minute Mas­ter Class on Film Edit­ing

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 3 ) |

All of the Music from Martin Scorsese’s Movies: Listen to a 326-Track, 20-Hour Playlist

Mar­tin Scors­ese’s cin­e­mat­ic real­i­ty, pop­u­lat­ed by hus­tlers, wise guys, prize fight­ers, vig­i­lantes, law­men, mad­men, and moguls, demands set­tings as vivid as its char­ac­ters. His movies, often peri­od pieces root­ed in par­tic­u­lar parts of 20th-cen­tu­ry Amer­i­ca (and increas­ing­ly, ear­li­er eras and far­ther-flung lands), evoke their times and places most notably with songs. Among their twen­ty great­est musi­cal moments Indiewire lists War­ren Zevon’s “Were­wolves of Lon­don” in The Col­or of Mon­ey, The Clash’s “Janie Jones” in Bring­ing out the Dead, Mick­ey & Sylvi­a’s “Love Is Strange” in Casi­no, and the Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shel­ter” in The Depart­ed (one of its three uses so far in Scors­ese’s fil­mog­ra­phy).

But Scors­ese’s involve­ment with music goes far beyond lay­er­ing it below, or indeed above, the scenes he shoots. In addi­tion to direct­ing his wide­ly acclaimed fea­tures from the “New Hol­ly­wood” 1970s to the present day, he’s also led some­thing of a par­al­lel career mak­ing films whol­ly ded­i­cat­ed to music and musi­cians, includ­ing 1978’s The Last Waltz, which cap­tured The Band’s “farewell con­cert appear­ance”; the 2003 mul­ti-direc­tor doc­u­men­tary series The Blues on that ven­er­a­ble Amer­i­can musi­cal tra­di­tion; 2005’s No Direc­tion Home on Bob Dylan, 2008’s Rolling Stones bio­graph­i­cal con­cert film Shine a Light, and 2011’s Liv­ing in the Mate­r­i­al World on George Har­ri­son.

Some of the pow­er of Scors­ese’s musi­cal selec­tions owes to his long friend­ship with The Band’s gui­tarist Rob­bie Robert­son, which began with The Last Waltz and con­tin­ues to this day. “We’ve always had this rela­tion­ship going back and forth,” a Telegram arti­cle on their qua­si-col­lab­o­ra­tion quotes the direc­tor as say­ing. “We start­ed a kind of rela­tion­ship in which we’d touch base as to every film I was doing and the type of music I was using.”

In his new mem­oir Tes­ti­mo­ny, Robert­son touch­es on a par­tic­u­lar­ly impor­tant job in Scors­ese’s career that sure­ly did some­thing to shape his friend’s musi­cal-cin­e­mat­ic con­scious­ness: assis­tant-direct­ing and par­tial­ly edit­ing his NYU film school class­mate Michael Wadleigh’s Wood­stock. “We were all, nat­u­ral­ly, pas­sion­ate about film-mak­ing, but Wad­leigh and I were equal­ly pas­sion­ate about rock music,” Scors­ese writes in the fore­word to Wood­stock: Three Days that Rocked the World. “I thought then, and I still think, that it formed the score for many of our lives; we moved through the days to its swag­ger­ing rhythms.”

Now you can move to all the rhythms of Scors­ese’s days, and there­fore of his fil­mog­ra­phy to date, in a 326-Track, 20-Hour Spo­ti­fy playlist. (If you don’t have Spo­ti­fy’s free soft­ware, you can down­load it here.) It comes assem­bled by Thril­list, whose Anna Sil­man writes that, “as might be expect­ed, The Rolling Stones take the crown for most fea­tured artist with a total of 14 appear­ances,” but “Ray Charles, Eric Clap­ton, and Louis Pri­ma all put up some decent num­bers, too.” She sug­gests you enjoy it “on shuf­fle with some egg noo­dles and ketchup,” and if you get the ref­er­ence right away, the playlist will cer­tain­ly bring back some of your most vivid cin­e­mat­ic mem­o­ries — and maybe even a few his­tor­i­cal ones.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Mavis Sta­ples and The Band Sing “The Weight” In Mar­tin Scorsese’s The Last Waltz (1978)

The Film­mak­ing of Mar­tin Scors­ese Demys­ti­fied in 6 Video Essays

Mar­tin Scors­ese Reveals His 12 Favorite Movies (and Writes a New Essay on Film Preser­va­tion)

Mar­tin Scorsese’s Very First Films: Three Imag­i­na­tive Short Works

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

42 Hours of Ambient Sounds from Blade Runner, Alien, Star Trek and Doctor Who Will Help You Relax & Sleep

Back in 2009, the musi­cian who goes by the name “Cheesy Nir­vosa” began exper­i­ment­ing with ambi­ent music, before even­tu­al­ly launch­ing a YouTube chan­nel where he “com­pos­es long­form space and sci­fi ambi­ence.” Or what he oth­er­wise calls “ambi­ent geek sleep aids.” Click on the video above, and you can get lulled to sleep lis­ten­ing to the ambi­ent dron­ing sound–get ready Blade Run­ner fans!– heard in Rich Deckard’s apart­ment. It runs a good con­tin­u­ous 12 hours.

You’re more a Star Trek fan? Ok, try nod­ding off to the idling engine noise of a ship fea­tured in Star Trek: The Next Gen­er­a­tion. Mr. Nir­vosa cleaned up a sam­ple from the show and then looped it for 24 hours. That makes for one long sleep.

Or how about 12 hours of ambi­ent engine noise gen­er­at­ed by the USCSS Nos­tro­mo in Alien?

Final­ly, and per­haps my favorite, Cheesy cre­at­ed a 12 hour clip of the ambi­ent sounds made by the Tardis, the time machine made famous by the British sci-fi TV show, Doc­tor Who. But watch out. You might wake up liv­ing in a dif­fer­ent time and place.

For lots more ambi­ent sci-fi sounds (Star Wars, The Matrix, Bat­tlestar Galac­ti­ca, etc. ) check out this super long playlist here.

via Dan­ger­ous Minds

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Look­ing for free, pro­fes­­sion­al­­ly-read audio books from Audible.com? Here’s a great, no-strings-attached deal. If you start a 30 day free tri­al with Audible.com, you can down­load two free audio books of your choice. Get more details on the offer here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

10 Hours of Ambi­ent Arc­tic Sounds Will Help You Relax, Med­i­tate, Study & Sleep

Moby Lets You Down­load 4 Hours of Ambi­ent Music to Help You Sleep, Med­i­tate, Do Yoga & Not Pan­ic

Music That Helps You Sleep: Min­i­mal­ist Com­pos­er Max Richter, Pop Phe­nom Ed Sheer­an & Your Favorites

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 3 ) |

Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will Wasn’t a Cinematic Masterpiece; It Was a Staggeringly Effective Piece of Propaganda

Tri­umph of the Will,” says Dan Olson of the ana­lyt­i­cal video series Fold­ing Ideas, “is not a tri­umph of cin­e­ma.” Already the propo­si­tion runs counter to what many of us learned in film stud­ies class­es, whose pro­fes­sors assured us that Leni Riefen­stahl’s 1935 glo­ri­fi­ca­tion of Nazi Ger­many, despite its thor­ough­ly pro­pa­gan­dis­tic nature, still counts as a seri­ous achieve­ment in film art. “None of the ideas or tech­niques were new,” Olson explains. “It is sim­ply that no one had pre­vi­ous­ly thrown enough mon­ey and resources at pro­pa­gan­da on this scale before.”

If it has val­ue as noth­ing but sheer spec­ta­cle, does Tri­umph of the Will (watch it below) amount to the Trans­form­ers of its day — and with motives that make Michael Bay block­busters look like noble, altru­is­tic endeav­ors at that? Despite doing noth­ing new with its medi­um, the film does still show­case cer­tain qual­i­ties of pro­pa­gan­da that, more than 70 years after the fall of the Third Reich, we’d all do well to keep in mind and keep an eye on.

Olson quotes “Ur-Fas­cism,” an essay by Umber­to Eco (who spent a cou­ple for­ma­tive years “among the SS, Fas­cists, Repub­li­cans, and par­ti­sans shoot­ing at one anoth­er”) explain­ing that, for fas­cist lead­ers to con­vince peo­ple to fol­low them,

the fol­low­ers must feel humil­i­at­ed by the osten­ta­tious wealth and force of their ene­mies. When I was a boy I was taught to think of Eng­lish­men as the five-meal peo­ple. They ate more fre­quent­ly than the poor but sober Ital­ians. Jews are rich and help each oth­er through a secret web of mutu­al assis­tance. How­ev­er, the fol­low­ers must be con­vinced that they can over­whelm the ene­mies. Thus, by a con­tin­u­ous shift­ing of rhetor­i­cal focus, the ene­mies are at the same time too strong and too weak. Fas­cist gov­ern­ments are con­demned to lose wars because they are con­sti­tu­tion­al­ly inca­pable of objec­tive­ly eval­u­at­ing the force of the ene­my.

Here we have sum­ma­rized both a mes­sage that Tri­umph of the Will wants to con­vey and the intel­lec­tu­al Achilles’ heel of fas­cist pro­pa­gan­da. It must imply the strength of the ene­mies even as it makes the strength of the regime crush­ing­ly explic­it. “To the mod­ern view­er it may seem aim­less and shod­di­ly paced,” says Olson, “with mon­tages that just go on and on and on long after the point has been made, but that’s the point: it is not mere­ly a demon­stra­tion of pres­ence, but of vol­ume. The indul­gence of it, the con­spic­u­ous cost, is as much a mes­sage of the film as any oth­er.”

The words of Han­nah Arendt, who once called sci­ence “only a sur­ro­gate for pow­er,” also enter into the analy­sis. Olson uses the quote to get into the idea that “one of the main mech­a­nisms of pro­pa­gan­da is to plant the idea of prece­dent, to alter the audi­ence’s own sense of his­to­ry and the world and appeal to the seem­ing­ly objec­tive author­i­ties of god, his­to­ry and sci­ence” in order to, through what Eco called the “cult of tra­di­tion,” make “new insti­tu­tions seem old­er than they real­ly are.”

We might find all this a bit fun­ny, giv­en the high­ly pre­ma­ture ter­mi­na­tion of a reign the Nazis insist­ed could endure for a thou­sand years, but in some sense their pro­pa­gan­dists had the last laugh. What­ev­er its cin­e­mat­ic mer­its or lack there­of, Riefen­stahl’s film remains essen­tial­ly effec­tive. “To this day we con­tin­ue to use Tri­umph of the Will as a ref­er­ence point for our men­tal con­struct of the Nazi regime,” says Olson. “Our idea of the Nazis is deeply informed by a pro­pa­gan­da film pro­duced by the Nazis for the explic­it pur­pose of cre­at­ing that men­tal con­struct.” When we think of the Nazis, in oth­er words, we still think of the images man­u­fac­tured more than eighty years ago by Tri­umph of the Will — “exact­ly the image they want­ed you to think of when you thought of them.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Watch Lam­beth Walk—Nazi Style: The Ear­ly Pro­pa­gan­da Mash Up That Enraged Joseph Goebbels

Edu­ca­tion for Death: The Mak­ing of the Nazi–Walt Disney’s 1943 Pro­pa­gan­da Film Shows How Fas­cists Are Made

Umber­to Eco Makes a List of the 14 Com­mon Fea­tures of Fas­cism

Han­nah Arendt Explains How Pro­pa­gan­da Uses Lies to Erode All Truth & Moral­i­ty: Insights from The Ori­gins of Total­i­tar­i­an­ism

Noam Chom­sky on Whether the Rise of Trump Resem­bles the Rise of Fas­cism in 1930s Ger­many

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

What Is Apocalypse Now Really About? An Hour-Long Video Analysis of Francis Ford Coppola’s Vietnam Masterpiece

The dis­tort­ed sounds of heli­copter blades. The drunk­en punch that shat­ters the mir­ror. The “Ride of the Valkyries” attack. “I love the smell of napalm in the morn­ing.” The slaugh­ter­ing of the water buf­fa­lo. “The hor­ror… the hor­ror.” In the near­ly three-hour run­time of its orig­i­nal cut, Apoc­a­lypse Now deliv­ers these and many more of the most vivid cin­e­mat­ic moments of the 1970s, the era of “New Hollywood”—when young auteurs like its direc­tor Fran­cis Ford Cop­po­la swept in and demol­ished the bound­aries of main­stream Amer­i­can cinema—and that of the Viet­nam War the film depicts as well.

Yet for all its artis­tic and cul­tur­al impact, the film has­n’t received quite as much scruti­ny as you might imag­ine. Or at least that’s how it looked to pro­fes­sion­al cinephile Lewis Bond, known for his work on Chan­nel Criswell, when he first took stock of Apoc­a­lypse Now’s ana­lyt­i­cal video essay land­scape.

Dis­cus­sions of Cop­po­la’s Viet­nam mas­ter­piece tend to focus on its leg­en­dar­i­ly ardu­ous pro­duc­tion and the one mil­lion feet of film famous­ly shot dur­ing it, a prece­dent per­haps set by the 1991 behind-the-scenes doc­u­men­tary Hearts of Dark­ness: A Film­mak­er’s Apoc­a­lypse.

These appraisals shy away from one seem­ing­ly impor­tant ques­tion in par­tic­u­lar: what is the movie about? On one lev­el, the answer to that ques­tion comes eas­i­ly: a mod­ern adap­ta­tion of Joseph Con­rad’s 1899 nov­el Heart of Dark­ness, Apoc­a­lypse Now trans­plants and trans­forms Con­rad’s sto­ry of a jour­ney up the Con­go Riv­er to the strong­hold of an ivory trad­er into the con­text of 1969 Viet­nam. The riv­er jour­ney remains, now led by a Unit­ed States Army cap­tain charged with the “ter­mi­na­tion with extreme prej­u­dice” of an Army Spe­cial Forces colonel gone rogue, and prob­a­bly insane, in Cam­bo­dia, sur­round­ed by ex-sol­diers and natives who report­ed­ly wor­ship him as a “demigod.”

Bond ref­er­ences the stan­dard inter­pre­ta­tion of Apoc­a­lypse Now’s riv­er jour­ney as “a metaphor for descent into mad­ness,” but in his two-part, hour-long video essay ana­lyz­ing the themes of the film, he posits “a more appro­pri­ate descrip­tion of the riv­er” as “a reflec­tion of the char­ac­ters’ inner jour­ney, show­ing us the indoc­tri­na­tion of evil.” Along the way, Cop­po­la and his col­lab­o­ra­tors offer a sin­gu­lar cin­e­mat­ic expe­ri­ence about not one thing but many: “It’s about the destruc­tion of peo­ple’s morals. It’s about the way Amer­i­ca oper­at­ed dur­ing Viet­nam as well as the con­fused val­ues that Amer­i­ca pushed upon the world. It’s about war. It’s about peo­ple” — and every­thing else before which our inter­pre­tive instincts ulti­mate­ly fall pow­er­less.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Apoc­a­lypse Now’s “Ride of the Valkyries” Attack: The Anato­my of a Clas­sic Scene

The Mak­ing of Apoc­a­lypse Now Remixed/Revisited

How Aki­ra Kurosawa’s Sev­en Samu­rai Per­fect­ed the Cin­e­mat­ic Action Scene: A New Video Essay

How Stan­ley Kubrick Made His Mas­ter­pieces: An Intro­duc­tion to His Obses­sive Approach to Film­mak­ing

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast