Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them: AKA, Why I Am Disappointed.
As an avid Harry Potter fan for well over a decade, I was just as excited (and nervous) as anyone else when I heard the news of yet another movie. This was different than The Cursed Child; this was within my grasps to see, this I could live rather than read - and it was practically guaranteed to reinvigorate my love for the franchise. Here I find myself disappointed.
What was missing from this magical movie? There was plenty of magic, well rounded characters, a kickass female lead and plenty of action to keep you on the edge of your seat. Was it the lack of Voldemort? Was it the lack of British accents? Or was it, simply put, that we’ve already seen the film?
Yes, that’s pretty much my answer. I’ve seen this plot before. Fantastic Beasts followed the same old plot structure that good old Harry Potter did on a very loose train.
Harry Potter enters a new, unfamiliar world. He immediately begins to learn the way of the culture but ends up getting in trouble along the way. He makes great friends that he must say goodbye to at the end of the adventure. The Ministry refuses to see what’s right under their noses. Harry thwarts Voldemort and all is well.
Now replace Harry with Newt and Voldemort with Grindelwald.
This is a very basic analogy but it is the root of my problem with this film. Regardless of how much I loved it, it simply was not new. I had such high hopes for this film and am disappointed with how similar the structure is, and how it’s been stretched to a mighty-fine five film franchise (a little too much, don’t you think?). There’s hardly enough plot to go about three films, let alone five.
Which leads me to my next point. Each Harry Potter film was riddled with possible plot direction, character goals, antagonisers, so on. FBAWTFT was awfully short of those. The beasts got out, catch them, oh look there’s Grindelwald, where’s he off to?
I’m not sure I’m as excited for the next instalment of this franchise as I was for the first. But I suppose that’s the magic of J.K - I’ll be lining up at the midnight premiere regardless.
Australian cinema is caught in a bind of wanting to appeal to national audiences, but also to not exclude international markets. In relation to two films of your choice, how has the industry in your opinion succeeded – or failed – to cater to these divergent audiences?
Grade: 75/100 - Distinction
The concept of national cinema is a disappearing one in modern society, but holds especially true for the nation of Australia. As Australia continues to attempt to exhibit its culture in various ways that appeals to both local and global audiences, the resulting cinema is neither here nor there. When the film fails to represent the multicultural citizens within Australia, the locals dismiss the film but it is a success internationally; when the locals approve of the content, the films fails to transfer across to international audiences. There have been several attempts by Australian filmmakers to create an authentic culture on screen and reach a global audience simultaneously. These include techniques such as grafting, co-production arrangements, mixing several cultures into a single film, and erasing culture from film altogether, yet Australia has still failed to create a notable uniqueness. Moreover, the concept of national cinema has several ways of being perceived and defined, making it an imprecise concept. A close look at two Australian films, Lantana and Head On, shows the strengths of these various approaches, and explains how they missed the mark as an example of Australian national cinema.
Tom O’Regan claims that Australian cinema is created by grafting onto other national cinema and “producing an Australian version of them”. Australian studios appropriate the genre and style of a successful film, imitate everything about the film that audiences enjoyed, and then attempts to “Australianise” the content. As Australia has so far been unable to efficiently define its culture, let alone translate those values onto the cinematic screen, grafting has been used by Australia for decades in order to encourage the creation of a national cinema. The grafting technique has been received with mixed responses. The appropriation of international tropes into an Australian context, swapping out actors and culturally specific references or locations in preference for local ones, has been criticized by many as being fake, unoriginal, or a knock-off of another film. However, where grafting off success or mimicking it fails, original Australian content does not do much better. Fresh Australian film is usually dismissed by the public as boring, below average, having a bad script or cast, or generally being incomparable to the dominant American industry. By lingering on the edge of a national cinema, wanting to appeal to international audiences by displaying recognizable, popular, and hence sellable, tropes but also wanting it to reflect Australian values, the reality is that Australia has been unable to capture a unique cultural authenticity. By failing to fully commit to either national cinema or international audiences, Australian film is unable to satisfy the requirements for either.
With the turn of the century, Marshall McLuhan coined the phrase “the global village” to refer to the increase of mass communications in international culture. The use of technology has allowed communications across national borders and has facilitated the growth of all industries in various ways. Arjun Appadurai identified five “scapes” this transnational flow can be compartmentalized into: the movement of people, transmission of media products, moving technology from country to country, economic stability, and the movement of cultures, religion and ideas. Or, alternatively, the ethnoscape, mediascape, technoscape, financescape, and ideoscape. These scapes encourage connections between nations, sharing knowledge, and also sees a mix of culture in an online world. The concept of scapes all relate to Benedict Anderson’s theory of an “imagined community”, where each scape contributes to the imagined world in what the general populace knows, and beyond this, what people expect the others to know. The scapes are advancing interconnectivity transnationally and hence beg the question, is national cinema a real concept in modern society, where national borders are so blurred? Furthermore, from a cinematic point of view, with all these scapes connecting nations is any cinema purely funded by a singular country and can films even be claimed by one?
National cinema is also being limited with the idea of globalization, as it encourages cultural homogeneity. It is argued that cultures are being reduced to one basic culture, typically a Western one, and even more specifically an American one. Globalisation is a threat to national cinema as other cultures are either being erased entirely or are losing their specificity, and are being replaced with America’s vast influence. Australian national cinema especially is at risk of this imperialism as its culture is so foggy in definition. Having an multicultural society but a Western preference, it is a difficult line to tread when it comes to accurate representation. According to Khoo 2011, Australia has strongly relied on the concept on national cinema to keep the national identity strong. She believes that Australian cinema is “a product of its geographic isolation and history of government-sanctioned support for the film industry,” (Khoo, 2011, pg.549). Homogeneity and imperialism are concepts that clearly lead to the destruction of Australia’s national identity. Alternatively, and positively for Australia, a heterogeneous view dictates that westernized industries become decentralized and are mixed with all other cultures. Rather than having a dominating, singular culture, there would be a wide array, disparate culture. This encourages more national cinema as it allows alternative viewpoints on how to explain and understand the world through narrative, and inspires the blending of these influences within a singular film. Heterogeneity is a flawed idea for the Hollywood industry, as it would then lose its dominance over the film industry and, by extension, have financial losses that may very well effect the rest of the world through Appadurai’s proposed scapes. On the other hand, heterogeneity is where Australia would have the most potential to create an accurate national cinema reflecting all beliefs and cultures of its citizens.
National cinema is clearly hard to achieve for countries like Australia, so co-productions are an essential part of the global film industry. There are various co-productions to suit all nations in the industry: runaway co-productions, treaty co-productions, and equity co-productions. Runaway productions are where studios, most frequently American, find cheaper shooting locations for films overseas. This international move is financially beneficial for both the US and the chosen country, as it lowers the production cost of the film whilst simultaneously boosting the local industry in the place of filming. Treaty co-productions are an exclusive European agreement to attempt to compete with America’s domination over the film industry. Two or more countries sign the treaty and share resources and finances. The resulting cinema is competitive with Hollywood releases as larger budgets mean better props, costumes, special effects and editing is available to the film. The mix of two nations also allows for more cultural interest and hence a wider audience. Lastly, equity co-productions combine several nations, including the U.S, with the end goal of creating a financially successful film. Each nation contributes any finances or resources available throughout production, and in return receive a fair share of the profit from the resulting film. Equity co-productions are facilitated through the five scapes mentioned earlier and have allowed Australian iconography to break out into the Hollywood and global scene. All co-productions are an important agreement for countries to take part in as it provides the opportunity for a nation to be represented worldwide. It also leads towards a shared sense of community internationally, proving a blend of cultures in a single film can be successful.
National cinema as a whole has trouble reaching across borders, so to accommodate this, national cinema has had to make changes to its content. One change has been to move towards a cinema that focuses on spectacle. Visual effects are able to be understood in most nations regardless of language barriers and so have proven to be financially successful with global viewings. The quality of the spectacle sells the film, and the reduced dialogue means less cultural barriers. The addition of narrative in film complicates this transition worldwide, so when it is involved it is predominantly simple, straightforward, and familiar to general audiences. There are no extra plot twists or especially cultural tropes that would interfere with global reception. This move to spectacle has been a somewhat successful approach for Australian cinema, especially overseas: “Australian genre flicks have been more successful overseas than given credit for, but they face major hurdles in establishing an ongoing presence within the local marketplace beyond an infrequent stream of titles” (Ryan, 2012, p.142). What Ryan points out is that spectacle is difficult to make sequels off, so many global releases have been one-off films, especially from Australia. Alternatively, other studios have erased culture from its film, along with genre, location and accents, so that it can have a multinational appeal. It will often incorporate recognizable elements from several national cinemas to further maximize reception and make it difficult to identify what audience it is directed towards. This erasure of cultures is clearly another threat to national cinema. Removing the markers of nationhood, especially language and local terrain, removes the cultural aspect of cinema. This is a serious issue for Australian national cinema, as landscape is one of the qualities that makes its cinema unique, and is most recognizable internationally. This sacrifice of individuality to reach a global audience in order to create a more sustainable creative industry has serious potential consequences – the erasure of culture within film can, by extension, lead to an erasure of culture and nationhood altogether.
One other way cinema attempts to reach a global audience is by representing several cultures within the film. An Australian film than demonstrates this mixing of cultures on screen is Head On (1998). It is based around the male child of Greek immigrants who came to Melbourne and follows him over a 24 hour period. The protagonist is shown struggling to find a way to appreciate his parents’ old-world values, to recognize his rich heritage history, and incorporate himself in modern Melbourne society. Head On won a total of 9 awards, since of which were won with Australian societies and the remaining 3 internationally, and received 15 more nominations. As an accurate representation of one culture within Australia, Head On was praised for its realistic portrayal of the issues immigrants face when entering a Western culture, for being shockingly raw with its queer narrative and its overall satisfactory editing. However, the film was received negatively by many international critics. Stephen Holden wrote for the New York Times paper: “[Head On] strains so desperately for a tragic kitchen-sink realism that in several crucial scenes the movie loses its grip and escalates into strident melodrama”. The multicultural view displayed in Head On was quite specific to the nation, which did not translate to other countries particularly well, especially America as it does not value immigrant culture. Goldsmith argues “rather than conceiving or defining Australian cinema through its ‘otherness’… it is productive and useful to rethink its limits and question the boundaries between ‘the Australian’ and ‘the international’” (Goldsmith, 2010, p.214). Head On attempted to breach these boundaries and pay homage to Australia’s immigrant origins on-screen, but unfortunately it did not succeed in the international audience.
Another Australian film that might be considered a success is the drama film Lantana (2001). Lantana is set in suburban Sydney, which is a great beginning for national cinema as within Australian, the suburbs are the “unrecognized home of fantasy, horror, supernatural thrillers” (Martin, 2010). The title itself is Australian iconography, and yet the film engages in themes that are recognized and understood worldwide. It contains internationally acclaimed actors Geoffrey Rush and Anthony LaPaglia, and well-cultured actress Barbara Hershey. Lantana is also partially funded by Germany. The general reactions to the film were quite positive, with one online review stating "Lantana is an intricately plotted character study that quietly shines with authenticity," (Rotten Tomatos, 2011). From a professional stance, the film received and was nominated for several international film awards, such as the Italian National Syndicate of Film Journalists, London Film Critics’ Circle, and the National Board of Review USA. However, whilst the international reception was good, “the expansion of international production in Australia, along with many other international connections (in finance, production location, creative collaborations, distribution, consumption) and the ‘outward-lookingness’ that such international connections entail, has transformed the ways in which we can think about and view Australian cinema” (Goldsmith, 2010, p.214). Perspectives on Australian cinema have been transformed by these scapes included within the production of Lantana. The film shows no distinct cultural difference that identifies it as Australian. Two actors are American, but all harsh accents from the cast have been erased. Even though the film was shot in Sydney, one of Australia’s most recognizable cities, it would be difficult to tell as the setting is a plain, fairly common-looking suburb. Therefore, Lantana cannot truly be described as Australian national cinema from Goldsmith’s perspective, due to the co-production nature of the scapes mentioned and the lack of unique Australian culture represented in the film.
What Head On and Lantana show is two Australian films, one that misses the global audience and one that reaches it, one that represents Australian culture and another that erases it. Each film failed to be a success in both representation and global recognition, and so both fail to be defined as national cinema. According to Lavik, “spectacle is presentational, narrative is representational”. Both Lantana and Head On are highly narrative-driven films, which is essential for “the way in which viewers relate to this self-contained fictional world” (Lavik, E. 2008). Australian viewers are able to see their culture within each film: Head On is representational for the various cultures within Australia and depicting how tough it is to adjust to Western life; Lantana’s narrative revolved around emotion, the betrayal of trust, which most viewers can relate to. However, the very specific narrative of Head On, despite being culturally orientated, clearly had difficulty transferring across multinational borders, and the bleak culture within Lantana is not really a reflection of Australian society.
Whilst Australian national cinema is difficult to be defined, people still have a general idea of what to expect from Australians on screen. The nation of Australia has been romanticized from the moment the British set foot on the land, identified as different from England in almost every way. Cinema today attempts to “emphasize authentic Australian stories… in an attempt to distance themselves from Hollywood titles,” (Ryan, 2012, p.143) and yet films still ignore the most key figures in Australian society. Tropes identified in Australian characters are commonly the bushman or larrikin, self-deprecating humor, and an appreciation for the underdog. This has been facilitated by Australian celebrities, such as Paul Hogan, Hugh Jackman, Shane Jacobson, and even Nicole Kidman. Very rarely is the image of an Australian associated with the Indigenous people, the Aboriginals, though that is not to say that Aboriginal films have not been recognized. The Sapphires (2012) was critically acclaimed, winning several awards in the Australian Academy of Cinema and Television Art awards, and starred Australian singer Jessica Mauboy. On an international scale, the film received fairly average ratings, emphasizing once again that films residents of Australia approve of very rarely translate across borders. Andrew Higson’s analysis of how to define national cinema in his paper, The Concept of National Cinema, elaborates on how there are many perspectives that contribute to the definition. His text-based approach asks “to what extent are [films] engaged in ‘exploring, questioning and constructing a notion of nationhood in the films themselves and in the consciousness of the viewer’?” Whether it be The Sapphires, Lantana, or Head On, these ‘Australian’ films exclude many ethnicities on a local basis which is why none of them can be claimed as a national film. Looking via any of Higson’s critical, consumption-based, economic, or text-based approaches will each reveal different views on what classifies as national cinema for Australia. This only reaffirms Australia’s weak sense of united culture, and pushes away the concept of national cinema altogether.
It must be presumed that national cinema is simply not a sustainable concept. It is already a dead concept in Australia in several ways. Australian’s as a people aren’t interested in bragging or displaying to the world who they are. Moreover, Australia was built off several cultures – the country is populated by immigrants, so how could there be just one dominant culture reflected in its cinema? With the influx of connectivity around the world, the ever growing competition for dominance over the creative industry, and the growth of globalization, it is not unreasonable to presume that the concept of nationhood will disappear. Industries growing over transnational borders implies that it is possible to reach a wide international audience, but there are clear outlines on how to do so; these simply to not correlate with Australian culture or values. Reducing culturally specific films to the westernized design of spectacle is not authentic to the culture and prioritizes financial profit over accurate representation of the nationhood. Beyond this, Australian film is simply not about spectacle, and making it such deletes any substance or unique culture Australian national cinema has.
I had to source an interviewee and write a supporting article.
Grade: 23/30 - Distinction
Special effects have arguably become the key selling point for many films by the major cinematic industries. With a rise in popularity of superhero-themed films, traditionally sold with explosions, incredible hand to hand combat, and a lot of damage to the surrounding buildings - and backed by its economic success - there is not much room elsewhere in the industry to make money. It appears that, from a production perspective, the more explosions there are in a film the more successful it is.
In 2011, the creative industries of America contributed $698 billion to its economy, equaling about 4.32% of its total GDP. There is no doubt that cinema has even more potential and will continue to contribute financially on a global scale. However, with more free to air channels becoming available to households every year, cinema is facing a very real threat to its business. In an effort to maintain a loyal audience, it is commonly hypothesised that cinema has turned to spectacle and visual appeal in order to sell its content due to the fact that it cannot be replicated on the small screen. Media theorist Miriam Ross argues that even if the narrative of a film is bad, lacking, or unappealing, audiences will consider the film "worth it" due to the high quality of special effects.
Whilst this is great for revenue and box office hits, due to this increased use of post-production editing and a reliance on computer graphic imagery (CGI), there is a fear amongst young graduates for their future career prospects. Samantha Cooke, a student studying special effects makeup, worries that her job may become redundant with the expanse of CGI technology.
"Film is such a hard industry to get into as it is," Samantha said. "CGI adds even more unnecessary competition. I feel like television is my only shot at a career, but because most shows have small budgets, there aren't a lot of reasons for special effects makeup there. Not to mention how popular reality television is at the moment - definitely no need for me there."
The recipe for a successful film does not lie purely in the extent of special effects. Throughout the years there have been many animated movie flops - these films have had big budgets but ended up receiving very little or no profit. For a film to be considered successful, it must make at least the total cost of production in the box office in order to gain profit. These flops occur mainly in smaller cinema production companies or independent films, but even major studios can produce flops. This includes Marvel's 2015 film Fantastic Four, which had a budget of $120 million and only received $168 million in return. It was awarded Worst Director, Worst Prequel, Remake, Rip-Off, or Sequel and was also nominated for Worst Screen Combo and Worst Screenplay at the 36th Golden Raspberry Awards.
Obviously CGI and special effects are an important part of adding spectacle and visual appeal to a film, however there is a large portion of viewers who prefer practical effects. Practical effects are when the 'fake' parts of a film are created via models and suits, such as the shark in Jaws and the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park. There are often complaints that CGI effects look "too fake", whereas viewers are pleasantly surprised to find scenes that are made with practicals. Whilst human skill is obviously not perfect and doesn't have the same potential as technology, hugely successful films have had a preference for practical over special effects. Christopher Nolan's 2012 film, Inception, was made largely with practical effects over CGI, and the same for Mad Max: Fury Road.
Mad Max: Fury Road is a film all about spectacle, and yet almost all of the film was created with practical effects, with only the landscape enhanced by CGI. Mad Max received no less than 6 oscars in 2016, including Makeup and Hairstyling, and Costume Design. These practical details clearly paid off and it is clear that audiences enjoyed the 'reality' of the film, including its visual appeal. However, the plot of the film can be summed up as a 'there and back again' plot, and is lacking in any real narrative. The protagonist, Max, says a grand total of 52 lines throughout the movie; this reinforces Ross' argument mentioned earlier: audiences will dismiss a lacking narrative in favour of special effects if they're of quality.
In 2004, Marvel's Spider-Man 2 had a total budget of $200 million. A grand total of $70 million was dedicated to post-production editing. This figure maintains its ratio in today's cinema, with the average cost of post-production editing being more than a third of the total budget - and this figure is growing every year.
"I'm learning how to do a full face of makeup in under ten minutes," Samantha said. "CGI takes a lot longer and is more expensive. I don't understand why artists aren't being utilised to their full capacity."
With every advancement of technology, students like Samantha will struggle in the film industry. If audiences continue to support films made with post-production editing rather than practical effects, film may very well return to its origins in the nineteenth century: no narrative, simply visual appeal. In fact, we are already seeing the first steps towards this. High concept cinema has reached its peak in popularity, with films like The Angry Birds Movie, Ghostbusters, and Trolls all set to release in 2016. These movies will predictably have almost no narrative, character development, or plot line, but will have a big budget for special effects and post-production editing. No room for fresh graduates to show off their skills.
Perhaps returning to cinemas origins isn't necessarily a bad thing. After all, spectacle was a huge selling point back in the day. The story of audiences fearing for their lives whilst watching the first video of a train travel towards them is an old legend, but was inspiring for artists at the time. As cinema has evolved, however, we saw cinema's potential and used it as a medium to tell stories in a visually exciting way. Who's to say that directors won't discover a new reason for cinema?
We are in an era of competition in the creative industries. Theatre, cinema, television, even art, are all competing to induce a sense of wonder and awe into its audiences. Cinema is using its visual appeal to its advantage to make money, and television it utilising its narrative focus to keep audiences coming back. Or is this a step backwards, eliminating some enjoyable characteristics of cinema in favour of bragging rights?
If cinema is becoming more focused on displaying technological capabilities without the inclusion of a gripping narrative, where does that leave our graduates? They say that history repeats itself; will the studios move from this spectacle back to a narrative centred film? Or is it doomed to continuously go round and round in circles, from spectacle to narrative and back again?
Cinema is a huge industry with a wide variety of genres. Whilst spectacle is popular at the moment, that is not to say that all narrative as disappeared from our films. There is still room for students like Samantha to forge their way into the industry - it is just so much harder with CGI as a competitor. What the production studios need is a new reason to create film without the aid of expensive CGI and time consuming editing. This we can achieve by supporting more films with practical effects, and encouraging a narrative focus in them.
For this assignment, I had to choose a scholarly reference and apply its claims to a reading of a film of my choice (Inception).
Grade: 74/100 - Distinction
CRITICAL PERSPECTIVE – INCEPTION (2010)
Erlend Lavik (2008) The battle for the blockbuster: discourses of spectacle and excess, New Review of Film and Television Studies, 6:2, 169-187, DOI: 10.1080/17400300802098305
Christopher Nolan’s 2010 film Inception is a curious case study of the links between spectacle and narrative. Incredibly fascinating visual appeal – not all special effects, some surprising scenes were made by hand – coupled with a slightly hard to follow narrative makes me wonder where it falls on the cinema of attraction to narrative cinema scale.
Lavik discusses the blurred definitions of spectacle and narrative in his paper, and suggests that a possible distinction, at least in classic Hollywood cinema, may be that “spectacle is presentational, narrative is representational”. This idea means that narrative is representational of “the way in which viewers relate to this self-contained fictional world”. For Inception, a fictional world is the entire plot of the film; the audience can quite literally insert themselves into different ‘levels’ of their own minds. A narrative is also tied to the audience’s “recognition and evaluation of the characters’ plights and their psychological properties and motivations”. Nolan’s film explores the idea of a man haunted by his wife, suffering from the guilt of being responsible for her death; this empathy or sympathy makes the audience want to watch characters “strive to overcome obstacles and achieve goals”. However, Lavik concedes that the relationship between the audience and the narrative is disputed, especially for contemporary cinema.
Another approach to the connections between attraction and narrative cinema is that the terms blur due to the insufficient definitions available. Lavik argues that “since neither the concept of spectacle nor the concept of narrative progression has been adequately theorized (at least not in a manner on which there is any sense of widespread agreement), it is hardly surprising that analyses of their relationship appear highly confusing.” He also believes “it seems that what counts as ‘advancement of the plot’ is equally mystical”.
In Inception, it is hard to say what is pure spectacle and what is plot advancement. What exactly is seen as an attraction, a spectacle, a plot device, can all be construed as a cause-and-effect model. There are truly impressive scenes in Inception, such as the revolving corridor fight scene with limited gravity, and Ariadne’s creation and destruction of Paris whilst dreaming. Much discussion of narrative and cinema of attraction implies that the two are exclusive, yet Lavik points out, “there is no necessary opposition between narrative and spectacle.”
Furthermore, with “no necessary opposition between narrative and spectacle”, it is possible for a film to contain both. Inception is built for attraction; explosions typical in an action film, unusual and inventive camera rotations, flashbacks to memories and embodiments of them, plus shows of affection. These spectacles, in some way or another, expand the story through cause and effect. By slowing the pace of Inception down to linger on these elements, it “propels the narrative forwards”. Certain elements pertain to a cinema of attraction; according to Lavik, “the frequency with which film critics and commentators use the phrase ‘gratuitous violence (or nudity)’ is just one demonstration of how common and deep-rooted the view is that some elements ‘truly belong’ in a story, while others do not”. Whilst Inception does not have any nudity, there is a strong emphasis on violence, whether it be through physical combat, guns, or mental blocks. These spectacles are justified due to “the so-called demands of the story”; however, for these elements to work, “you need a satisfying story and interesting characters too, since spectacle alone is not enough.”
Lavik agrees with Geoff King’s idea that contemporary films do not lack narrative, but certain attributes of narrative are absent, like complex characterization and narrative depth. Inception focuses on two main characters who have a deeply complex past history, but doesn’t concentrate on the side characters as much as viewers might have liked. It cannot be denied that Inception’s narrative is quite deep, and at times hard to follow.
Therefore, I come to the conclusion that narrative and spectacle must be conjoined in order for a contemporary film to be successful, and Inception falls pleasantly in the middle. A film based entirely on spectacle would fail due to it’s lack of plot-driven narrative – and as Lavik points out, “the main reason why effects-driven films generally have been frowned upon: the suspicion that narrative is merely a pretext for the less esteemed gratifications of spectacle”. Inception has no deeply disturbing scenes; for the most part, it is a pleasant cinema of attraction. Likewise, whilst the narrative can be hard to follow, it is of great depth and delves into the audience’s desire to empathise with the characters. The importance of both narrative and spectacle is equal in Inception.
With a focus on Australian film, I had to write extended responses to the following prompts:
One piece written as a response to one of the films screened with reference to the accompanying lecture.
One piece written as a response to one of the weekly readings, identifying the writer’s central claims and supporting arguments, and an assessment of the writer’s application to examples of screen media.
One piece that uses one of the weekly readings as a way of providing an analysis of a film of your own choice.
Grade: 73/100 - Distinction
One piece written as a response to one of the films screened with reference to the accompanying lecture.
The curious question that stemmed from the screening of Balibo was can an Australian film be Australian if not set in Australia?
Balibo was an innovative film in that it resembles a folding box of timelines in regards to Juliana telling her story and following the journalists in both past and present. It resembles the historic screening of the Vietnam war in that camera footage was grainy – it felt like 1970s film – and in saying that, great care was taken to replicate the original footage. It takes no shame in showing deaths in graphic detail, nor emphasising how emotions run wild and how tense atmospheres are during times of war.
In Australia’s history, Britain oppressed us – in the story of Balibo, are we not the oppressors? The fact that East Timor has reached out to the Australian government for help and received no answer echoes the British mentality during war. An important distinction here is that it was the Australian government who did not help, not the Australian people.
Is this an Australian film even though it’s not set in Australia, or is our national cinema more than our landscape? The archetype of Australia mainly lies within our people, and that is all we see in the film. The larrikin journalists fighting a good fight to discover the truth; another journalist, older and wiser than the first bunch, filled with courage and resilience, willing to head into dangerous territory for his fellow people. These concepts of mateship, resilience, courage, and the old larrikin story epitomise what it means to be an Australian, even without the landscape surroundings.
Whilst watching this film, however, the landscape may be vastly different to look at, but it’s still just as dangerous as in Australia. It had the capacity for danger and terror, not just from the Indonesian’s but also from the wilderness itself. It was untouched by human hands, it could be brutal if one stepped in the wrong direction, and at the end of it, were the journalists not transformed after venturing into its thick domain? I saw many parallels between Australia’s landscape and Timor’s throughout the movie.
One of the more interesting aspects of Balibo was the finishing quote of “I’m Australian”. What does this mean to international citizens? It was shouted by the journalists in the film as though it was going to grant them immunity, make them safe from death. It could easily be interpreted as a glorified death, pertaining to a courageous death by captors. As the journalists died on their knees or running away, it could have been a saving grace of sorts, of dying with a sense of pride. Perhaps it meant that they didn’t want to die on international soil, rather on the heartland. It is all up for interpretation.
Balibo is based on a true story and yet it is not a widely known one. Certainly there are aspects that Australia should be ashamed of, but why has it not been turned into a national myth like Gallipoli or Ned Kelly? Would Balibo turn to legend and thus into a national myth of Australian people being good, truth seeking people? Or will it be forgotten, as the truth of Balibo is that Australia let them down, and that contradicts how the imagined community perceives Australia?
One piece written as a response to one of the weekly readings, identifying the writer’s central claims and supporting arguments, and an assessment of the writer’s application to examples of screen media.
Week 1 Reading: Higson, Andrew (1989) "The Concept of National Cinema", Screen 30:4, p36-46.
Higson argues that the term ‘national cinema’, whilst correctly used to describe films produced in a particular nation state, can be used in other ways, and is in fact not the most appropriate way of using the term. This statement alone opens up the very broad question, what is national cinema, especially to Australians? The concept of national cinema is used prescriptively rather than descriptively, according to Higson, and this makes me curious: does the phrase ‘national cinema’ come with a set of expectations, or is it an adjective, poorly used, because the definition of national cinema is so vague?
Higson believes that “the parameters of a national cinema should be drawn at the site of consumption as much as at the site of production of films…” This highlights the important factor of national cinema – the audience. Who is watching the film? This is a pretty straightforward concept, however when put into practice it is much more complicated than that. If a film is set in Australia and has Australian actors but is produced by Americans, is it an Australian film? If the lead is a Brit but set in Australia and seen by Australians, is it an Australian film? There are so many variables of national cinema that this statement is a little too strained.
Thankfully, Higson moves away from this simplistic viewpoint and delves into national cinema through economic, text-based, exhibition-led and criticism-led approaches. Simply put, an economic viewpoint is concerned with the money: who has it, who’s using it, who’s pushing for the film to be made. The text-based approach considers the culture of the film; the plot, the world view, the characterisation – how they present a sense of nationhood. Exhibition-led, or consumption-based, is focused on which films audiences are watching, and particularly, the number of foreign films. Lastly, the criticism-led approach tends to reduce national cinema to the terms of quality art cinema, a “culturally worthy” cinema, that appeals to the “high-cultural and/or modernist heritage of that country”, rather than one which appeals to the desires and fantasies of the popular audiences.
Personally I find that dividing a concept so complex into categories is a little pretentious. The idea of film being digested into such small compartments is insulting. After all, a nation state itself cannot be so defined in history. Although, that may be the point: Higson says further in his article that the “process of identification is thus invariably a hegemonising, mythologising process”. I therefore only add that for the most part, national cinema is often egotistical; each country wants to put out a front that is much better than the truth. Australia hasn’t ever been like that.
Australia as a state finds self-confidence and success and a typical hero somewhat repulsive in our films. We are, generally, more invested in the unexceptional, the ordinary, the ugly. We are enraptured by the underdog and amused by the bogans and thrilled by the larrikins. Is that, therefore, a reflection of who Australia is? Or who we want to be? Is it supposed to appeal to the international community – because if this is the case, it’s not really ‘national’ cinema, is it?
Higson finishes with the quote, “For what is a national cinema if it doesn’t have an audience?” I would counter it with thus: What is national cinema if the nation doesn’t relate?
One piece that uses one of the weekly readings as a way of providing an analysis of a film of your own choice.
Week 6 Reading: O’Regan, Tom (1989). “Cinema Oz: The Ocker Films”. The Australian Screen. O’Regan, Tom and Albert Moran (Eds). Penguin: Australia. p.75-98.
Love Serenade, screened in the week of ocker comedies, perhaps missed the mark in its genre. Ocker? Certainly. It is vulgar, it is embarrassing, it has a focus on sexual themes, and the characters are flawed and far from well-rounded. Comedy? Perhaps not as much.
The idea that Love Serenade is an Australian comedy feels like too much of a stretch. It is, visually, an Australian film. It clearly demonstrates the vast Australian outback and a small country town; of the desolate, boring life that rural Aussie’s deal with (and as someone who grew up on the Murray River, the imagery of Sunray really resonated with me). However, what else other than the landscape was Australian? The actresses, the director, the production, sure. But this still doesn’t feel enough to earn the title ‘Australian’.
Typically, Australian films are enriched with traits that are shown in men on-screen: easy-going, kind, a strong sense of friendship and loyalty, and always up for a bit of fun. Despite the leads of Love Serenade being female, why did they not have the same dynamic? The animosity between the sisters and the lack of distinct dialogue really let the film down. Ocker films are the supposed to contain “linguistic coarseness”, not snappy retorts.
Perhaps it was the British aspects of humour that made it feel less Aussie. Vicki-Ann’s mere “Well there goes that” at the death of her dream man is severely dry humour, and very deadpan – all trademarks of British comedy. Dimity’s smile in the background is what makes the scene work, as it is awkward and out of place and a little bit crazy. That uniqueness is Australian.
The unbelievably awkward sex scene between Dimity and Ken Sherry was arguably the best moment of the film. Not only did it feel completely and ridiculously unbelievable, but it also set it firmly in the definition of ‘ocker’ film. The ocker films were produced in “a 'sexed' cinema in which sexuality: its hydraulics, its surfaces, its positions, were opened up for exploration and narrative motivation”. The director’s decision to explore the intimacy between a 45-year-old man and a 20-year-old virgin was arguably creative genius. It was similar to watching a train wreck and being unable to look away - mesmerising. But the twist of Ken being a fish was unexpected. It felt like a random idea that was thrown in at the end, the plot not really thought out. Australian comedy is usually much wittier than that.
Ocker films were in its prime in the 1970s, and Love Serenade was released in 1996. Perhaps the generational gap is what makes today’s audiences not fully appreciate what was a popular and a wacky alternative. The lack of “good role models, traditional heroes, nor a warm sense of national pride” was a crucial aspect in my reception of the film. Nowadays with films reaching an international audience constantly and national cinema taking the back seat, the fact that “ocker films were made for Australian audiences” is an outdated goal and therefore, for contemporary audiences, seems out of touch.
Perhaps Love Serenade feels like a failed ocker comedy simply because I don’t want to think that it resembles Australia. In which case, Love Serenade is the perfect ocker film. But as a comedy, I feel like it didn’t meet that mark. Love Serenade felt more like an ocker drama.
I wrote an essay on the evolution of Animation as a genre, however by the end of my research, I concluded that animation could not be defined as a genre. By this stage it was too late for me to start an entirely new essay!
Grade: Credit (not bad for arguing a point I don’t agree with)
Before the digital age, it was relatively easy to argue animation was a process art. If the images required for the film were not hand drawn, there would be no film to show. However, with the increase in technology available, lines have blurred as to where animation begins and ends as a genre. Like all genres, animation has a set of conventions, tropes, and iconography associated with it, however it is not as strict or concise as other genres, such as the slasher film or a rom-com. Creators such as Walt Disney and directors like Tim Burton have made incredible impact on the animation genre which can reflect the cultural values of the time.
Historically and technically, the first animated film was Humorous Phases of Funny Faces (1906) by J. Stuart Blackton. However, it is agreed that the first fully animated film was Emile Cohl’s Fantasmagorie in 1908. It consisted solely of simple line drawings of a clown-like figure that blended, transformed or fluidly morphed from one image into another. This was followed by Winsor McCay’s Gertie the Dinosaur in 1914, praised as the earliest example of combined ‘live action’ and animation, and the first ‘interactive’ animated cartoon (Filmsite c.2016). McCay’s film was redrawn in its entirety for each image, however the introduction of cel animation later that same year made the animation process much more efficient. A cel is a transparent sheet that would have hand-drawn backgrounds and other elements on it which could be reused for similar scenes. These cel sheets are now collectibles, with Disney’s Sleeping Beauty production cel and pan background selling for over $94,000 (AnimationValley 2016). With the first colour animation in 1920, Walt Disney appeared not long after, with his short film Little Red Riding Hood in 1922 (Filmsite c. 2016). Animation gradually evolved with different printing techniques until cels were phased out in the 1990s with the induction of computer animation. In modern films, animation is mainly a post-production technique. Scholars like Lev Manovich argue that “the degree of post-production manipulation has seen cinema become a subset of animation” (Belton, 2002). Animation and CGI have taken priority over narrative in film, with all of the top 50 highest grossing films of all time having some sort of post-production special effects, and over half of the films adjusted for inflation (Glenday, 2015).
The AFI defines ‘animated’ as a genre in which the films’ images are primarily constructed by computer or hand and the characters are voiced by actors. However, this definition has its shortfalls in both past and present film. Animated films are not strictly one art form; films like Space Jam show a mix of live-action and animation, Pirates of the Caribbean shows live-action with post-production editing, Wall-E is a fully animated film with 3D views and Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is a 2D view of human characters. John Halas has outlined 6 key characteristics of animation: symbolisation, picturing the invisible, penetration, selection, showing the past and predicting the future, and controlling speed and time (Nelmes 2012). However, there are even more than this. Animation as a genre can be recognised by several characteristics: creative and imaginative tendency (Scriptlab c.2010), the ability to bring animals and objects to life, fantastical worlds, musical numbers, empathetic and life-like personalities, and the main character is not a human actor – whilst it can take a human form, it is not really a human. Narratives are light-hearted and friendly, aimed at children, yet interesting enough for adults to enjoy. At the conclusion of the film, the characters are happy and the problems have been resolved. Animated films depict what live-action cannot; in the instance of Wall-E, it’s emotional ploy would not be as sweet if the characters were human; its endearment is in the clever animation of the robots and in the personification of them. This personification is a dominant trope in animation, allowing for animals, objects, and imaginary creatures to be the protagonist and tell different stories that simply wouldn’t work in a live-action film (TSL 2010).
Animation has generally been targeted at children, however there are elements that appeal to adults. Night-time shows such as The Simpsons or Futurama by Matt Groening, and late night shows like Family Guy, have scripts designed to be enjoyed by an older age group. However, animated films manage to appeal to both audiences. Films like Finding Nemo and Happy Feet are Australian films with narratives that are “kept quite simple for younger audiences, but cleverly, the narrative is kept exciting with lots of different things happening as not to bore the audience” (Wickam2014(. Both of the mentioned films contain a child separated from its parents, scared yet brave enough to overcome obstacles, desperate to reunite. Animation therefore “cannot be thought without thinking loss, disappearance and death”, or “the transformation from the animate into the inanimate” (Cholodenko, cited in Flaig 2013). These heavy themes are what attracts the adults to the narrative of the film. Pure animation films such as Pixar’s Toy Story appeal to the children as the characters are of their age group and the film is full of vibrant colour. Post-production editing is utilized more for older audiences, as is the case for Marvel Cinematic Universe films. This breaches the question, is animation a genre best suited for a target audience, or for all ages to enjoy?
How animation has been recognised as a genre is a cause for dispute amongst the film community. It is recognised that the different conventions of animated films allow for a wider audience (TSL 2010). Animated films are popular not only for the different genres used, but also because it may remind an adult audience of their youth, happy memories, and appeal to childhood fantasies. John Halas identified six main characteristics for an animated film, however Wells (2012) believes “Halas’s theories reinforce the control the animator has in constructing an artificial world that can be determined on its own terms and condition, and with varying degrees of ‘realism’ or to the point of complete abstraction". Wells argues that the field of animation equates to creative freedom and therefore cannot be restricted. John Lasseter, Chief Creative Officer at Pixar and Walt Disney Animation Studios, says of the technique that “it is getting to the point where the limitation is the imagination of the filmmaker” (Lasseter, cited in Owen 2011). What is involved in an animated film is up to artistic interpretation and producer’s preference.
As technology advanced, the art of animation evolved along with it. Langer argues that “animation predates cinema itself” and to an extent, this is true. Colour animation was abound in the roaring twenties, a reflection of the cheer that presides in a post-war society. Short films were popular, especially from Disney, who created Newman Laugh-O-Grams, Lafflets, and Alice comedies. From an auteur perspective, Disney took great advantage of his position, sending his animators to school to learn to draw, with excellent results. As computer imagery became a common tool in animation, it was easier to create greater length films with sound, colour and narrative. Disney released the first feature-length animated film in 1937, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. According to Lasseter, “the computer is just a tool”, and this lay true for Disney. He quoted in his biography:
“I have had a stubborn, blind confidence in the cartoon medium, determination to show the skeptics that the animated cartoon was deserving of a better place; that it was more than a mere “filler” on a program; that it was more than a novelty; that it could be one of the greatest mediums of fantasy and entertainment yet developed. That faith… has brought the cartoon to the place that it now occupies in the entertainment world,” (Barrier, 2007).
Beyond Disney, the Industrial Light & Magic visual effects company, a division of the Lucasfilm conglomerate, is responsible for many famous animated franchises, such as Shrek, and for the visual effects in post-production. ILM was designed purely to create Star Wars, and went on to be responsible for the effects of over 200 other films, including Jurassic Park, Back to the Future, Harry Potter and Star Trek. ILM emerged in a time where audiences were interested in realistic-looking films, yet it ignited an interest in animation once more with it’s many successes in the CGI production and was the first company to create a fully computer-generated character (Listal 2016). Notably, John Lasseter is responsible for this feat, going on to work for Pixar later in his career (Filmsite 2016), and Spielberg often worked in conjunction with ILM when directing his films. ILM was bought by The Walt Disney Company in 2012, however, and so Disney is leading the pack in modern film making, aiming to release a staggering 24 movies in 24 months (DailyDot 2015). Family household names like Tim Burton, Brad Bird and Steven Spielberg are other notable directors and producers who continue to contribute to the animation community.
Animation has evolved even recently, as director Tim Burton remade his stop-motion animated film Frankenweenie (1984) again in 2012. According to Burton, “The stop motion, the black and white… It’s art form that is unlike everything else. You watch something and it might’ve taken an animator a week to shoot, depending on the complexity, and when you see it, it’s just something magical.” Stop motion animation is not a common medium, with only 18 films being produced from the US in the last decade. This is due to the fact that it is a labor- and resource-intensive means of production and is a slow process (O’Neill, Wells 2015) . Travis Knight, producer of the stop-motion animation film The Boxtrolls (2014) admitted at Comic-Con that year, “It’s the worst way to make a movie. It makes no sense… But it’s an incredible art form that is so rare and so beautiful” (Forbes 2014). Knight noted that they were able to complete one to two minutes of footage per week – this amount of time is not financially beneficial for studios. However, the creative process is rewarding, because “there’s something about the process of having puppets, with real sets and you see the hours that have been put into the models… I felt like it shows the artist’s work” (Burton, 2012). Frankenweenie was also a point for experimenting with animation, as it was a black and white film in 3D, which allowed for light and shadows to be a crucial element in the film. As stop motion animation is relatively rare, it can be considered to be of a more experimental edge to film making.
Now that post-production editing has become the main form of animation, what precisely animation is defined as has become a topic for discussion. Its current definition is discouragingly broad and envelopes many elements used in animation. The arguments for animation as a genre and as a medium are both attractive. With technology continuously evolving and providing new techniques, it is possible that animation will become less of a genre and more towards a medium, but currently animation does fit in to genre’s definition: a style or category of art, music or literature. As a genre, animation will continue to enrapture adults and children alike, and prove that it can fulfill Disney’s dream of being one of the greatest mediums of fantasy and entertainment.
References:
Barrier, J.M 2007, The Animated Man: A Life of Walt Disney (p. 4), University of California Press, California.
Belton, J 2002, ‘Digital Cinema: A False Revolution’, The MIT Press, Vol. 100, pp. 98-114.
Dirks, T 2016, Animated Films Part 1, AMC, viewed 24/4/16, <http://www.filmsite.org/animatedfilms.html>
Dirks, T 2016, Greatest Visual and Special Effects (F/X) – Milestones in Film, AMC, viewed 24/4/16, < http://www.filmsite.org/visualeffects12.html>
Flaig, P 2013, ‘Life Driven By Death: Animation Aesthetics and the Comic Uncanny,’ Vol. 54 Issue 1, p1-19.
Frances, L 2012, ‘Interview: Tim Burton On ‘Frankenweenie,’ Stop-Motion And Old Monster Films, ScreenCrave, viewed 24/4/16, < http://screencrave.com/2012-10-04/interview-tim-burton-talks-frankenweenie/>
Glenday, C 2015, Guinness World Records 60 pp. 160–161, Jim Pattinson Group, Canada.
Langer, M, ‘Animation’s Early Years’, UCLA Film & Television Archive, p. 1.
LeFourbe, J 2010, The History of CGI, Listal, viewed 22/4/16, <http://www.listal.com/list/the-history-of-cgi>
Nelmes, J 2012, Introduction to Film Studies (5th ed., pp. 229-258), Routledge, London
O’Neill, S & Wells, K 2015, Animation in the Digital Era 2000, Australian Government, viewed 24/4/16, <http://www.australia.gov.au/about-australia/australian-story/animation-in-australia>
Owen, A 2011, ‘Neuroanimatics: Hyperrealism and digital animation’s accidental mark’, Animation Practice, Process & Production, VOL 1 No 2 2011.
Pomerantz, D 2014, ‘The Boxtrolls’ and Whys It’s Crazy To Do Stop-Motion Animation, Forbes, viewed 24/4/16, <http://www.forbes.com/sites/dorothypomerantz/2014/09/26/the-boxtrolls-and-why-its-crazy-to-do-stop-motion-animation/#331b6daa4191>
Romano, A 2015, Here’s Every Movie Scheduled By Disney For the Next 2 Years, The Daily Dot, viewed 23/4/16, <http://www.dailydot.com/entertainment/disney-two-year-timeline-photo/>
The Script Lab 2010-2015, Genre: Animated, TSL, viewed 21/4/16, <http://thescriptlab.com/screenplay/genre/animated>
Wickam, E 2014, How does Toy Story 2 follow conventions of the animation genre to appeal to a polysemic audience?, Marked By Teachers, viewed 21/4/16, <http://www.markedbyteachers.com/as-and-a-level/media-studies/how-does-toy-story-2-follow-conventions-of-the-animation-genre-to-appeal-to-a-polysemic-audience.html>
World’s Most Expensive Cels, AnimationValley c.2016, viewed 25/4/16, <http://www.animationvalley.co.uk/worlds-most-expensive-cels.html>
Chosen Scene: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix – Umbridge Torture Scene 36:08-38:41
This scene is perhaps one of the most powerful scenes in the film, not due to the dialogue – although that is a prominent factor in the narrative of the film – but rather what is shown through mise-en-scene. Whilst the dialogue strengthens the audiences hatred for Umbridge and sympathy for Harry, this is a scene where actions speak louder than words. This scene is important due to the fact that whilst the main threat of Harry Potter as a series is Voldemort, he “is a little too far out in the supernatural ozone” for most audiences. Professor Umbridge, however, “is the greatest make-believe villain to come along since Hannibal Lecter”1, and embodies something that children and adults alike can relate to – a teacher that made life miserable for students who were powerless to stop it. This scene captures that and also has many implications for the narrative of the later films2 in the saga.
Grade: Credit
The scene opens in Professor Dolores Umbridge’s office. It is the first time the viewer sees inside it in the film, and it is an overwhelming explosion of pink. The scene begins with Umbridge pouring precisely three spoonsful of pink sugar (invoking images of the colloquial phrase, sugar, spice and everything nice to the viewer, which is misleading) into her pink tea and stirring it precisely three times. This obsessive organization is followed with the straightening of the wizarding equivalent of a pencil on her desk. These few camera shots impress upon the viewer the importance of control, precision, and order – and order is incredibly important to Umbridge, as it is her downfall later in the narrative. As the camera pans over the desk to the pencils, the audience gets a glimpse at the blade of a letter opener knife; this is not an essential utensil on a teacher’s desk and it should stand out, but due to the foreground being the camera’s focus, it is blurred. This is therefore often unnoticed by the viewer and yet it is registered in the viewer’s subconscious as being a potential weapon, due to its large size. The presence of a potential weapon adds to the vaguely threatening feel of the office, which is amplified when Umbridge brings out an even more subtle weapon in the form of a quill. Umbridge’s office is “a veritable… house of abuse”3 hidden under a cloak of pink that she alone is in control of.
The music that accompanies Umbridge throughout the film is “somewhat jaunty, rather irritating theme that evokes grand elements of political power.”4 However, throughout this torture scene there is very light music, restricted to notes from the highest octave of a piano or harp-like instrument. This tune plays intermittently through the scene and alludes to Umbridge’s subtle torture she is about to inflict. There is also a single note pitched at a frequency so high it is perhaps missed by the older viewers that adds to the irritation and intensity of the scene and contributes to the hatred of Umbridge.
Harry Potter enters the office and is greeted by mewling kittens on Umbridge’s Frolicsome Feline ornamental plate collection4, which he observes in clear distaste. He is immediately ordered around by Umbridge, who “relishes [in] "the power to strip pupils of all privileges"5 “ and thus proves it when Harry’s dialogue in this scene is limited to a mere ten words. In a wide camera shot, the extent of her plate collection is revealed, and with Harry being in the lower center of the screen, it is implied that he is grappling with a force larger than himself. There is a close-up of one particular kitten which resembles Umbridge in character; it is small, white, fluffy; all signs of innocence, but the cat has a dark streak in it’s character, which is revealed later in the film. As Harry sits at the intended table, Umbridge maintains her authority by never remaining at the same level as him for too long. After she tells Harry to write lines, she turns her back on him which the camera enunciates by cutting from a wide shot of the both of them to a chest-up shot of her. The spectator sees Umbridge smiling to herself and it is here that the soundtrack creates the atmosphere of anticipation. The scratching of the quill, the kittens meowing, the light and jaunty music, all give way to the high frequency pitch and the crescendo leading to the reveal of I must not tell lies on Harry’s hand – Umbridge’s torture that will leave him scarred, effectively shocking the audience.
As Umbridge returns to Harry’s line of vision, the crescendo gives way to a suspenseful tune. After she asks, ‘Yes?’ there is an elongated silence from Harry that is filled with the tune and piano notes. The resulting sound is somewhat sadistic, almost the type of tune expected in a horror film, and it emphasizes Umbridge’s inhumane actions. The mock-motherly look she gives Harry and her voice of concern is juxtaposed with the torture she is inflicting, and it is not missed on the audience that Umbridge is faking her concern. From her stooped position over Harry, the upwards-facing shot from her chest, and the camera edits backwards and forwards from Umbridge to Harry staring each other down, it becomes clear that this scene is a confrontation between the two – and at his mere ‘Nothing’, Umbridge’s goal to “compel Harry into… submission”6 has been achieved. The spectator sees her smug smile and it is obvious that she possesses “complete ruthlessness and (one can even say) joy… from the suffering of a disobedient student.”7 The dialogue furthers this – ‘Because you know, deep down, that you deserve to be punished. Don’t you, Mr Potter? Go on,’ – said with a smile.
The formal elements of cinema have been used incredibly well in this scene to delve the audience in a void of hatred and resentment. Umbridge “is feminized to the point of sentimental nausea,”8 not just in her outfits but also in accessories, decorations in her office and also in her voice. The sound accompaniments reflect her personality: a dark force beneath a shadow of innocence. The subtle camera angles and minimal editing of shots show Umbridge in a position of power, and foreshadows events later in the film that are essential to the narrative. After watching this scene, the audience is left bubbling with rage, and they are, momentarily, at one with the protagonist.
References:
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix 2007 [DVD], Warner Bros. Pictures.
Marshall, E 2016, ‘Monstrous schoolteachers: women educators in popular cultural texts’, Femininist Media Studies.
[1] King, S 2009, ‘Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix’, Entertainment Weekly, 1 August, viewed 25/03/2016, <http://www.ew.com/article/2009/08/01/harry-potter-and-order-phoenix>
Topic: Explain what transhumanism is, and describe one of it’s versions. What seem to be the assumptions underlying this form of transhumanism with regard to health, environment and progress? Explain and evaluate the proposals, assumptions and implications of the transhumanist view selected – is this what humans should become?
Graded: 37/45 - High Distinction
Transhumanism is defined as the belief or theory that the human race can evolve beyond its current physical and mental limitations, especially by means of science and technology. Nick Bostrom from the World Transhumanism Association believes that transhumanism “promotes an interdisciplinary approach to understand… the opportunities for enhancing the human condition/organism”. Specifically, cryonics is an effort to save lives by using temperatures so cold that a person beyond help by today’s medicine might be preserved for decades or centuries until a future medical technology can restore that person to full health. Transhumanism and cryonics are largely untested, due to the fact that the technology for it does not exist yet, and yet people are still signing up for cryonics despite it’s shortfalls. Why?
One of the ultimate flaws of cryonics is its perspective of death. The mere existence of cryonics implies that death will not be permanent for much longer, but for many this goes against the basis of nature. Yet cryonics continues to operate under the assumption that death can, and will eventually, be avoided. It implies that death “is a process, rather than an event”. But that begs the question – what is death? If cryonics can return the human body to life, does death become a mere symptom that can be healed? Can some people be more dead than others; can death be measured on a spectrum? The idea of death becomes flawed by definition with cryonics in the equation.
If death is seen as one of nature’s phenomena, cryonics argues that by avoiding death, we have power over nature, as believed by Francis Bacon. It implies that nature is a machine (Descartes) that humans can and should control, bend to our will, and make benefit us as much as possible. By extension, cryonics therefore assumes that humanity should have control over life and death – and importantly, who gets it. Are we playing God? Are we so self-satisfied as to assume that the current generation of the human race deserves to live in the future? Cryonics operates under the belief that evolution will play no part in human development or our environmental changes, and believes that humans from the present reawakening in the future would still be fit for earth’s environment, despite being an older version of an evolutionary race, and despite defying natural selection.
Not only is there a problem of who receives it (for at the present time, it is only a matter of who can afford cryogenic vitrification, and at thirty thousand dollars no wonder it’s selective), but also a problem of how many. Population is already an issue today, let alone in a century considering the population will not stop growing. And if everyone can live twice, or even forever, but still theoretically reproduce, the effects on the environment would be astronomical. At our current rate, it is predicted that if humanity doesn’t find an alternative to natural resources, they will run out by 2050. It is also believed that more than a third of the natural world has been destroyed in the last three decades. If we continue at the current rate, there is no possible way the earth could sustain future generations, let alone those reanimated too. Pollution would run rampant and the earth’s natural resources would be used up. How humanity perceives nature would have to change and how we accommodate it, and it us. Or, would the pressure of a large population be too much for earth; would space travel be humanity’s only option, if the earth can no longer sustain us?
Cryonics also assumes that there is no life after death. This, of course, is problematic in itself for those who practice religion and believe in one, the afterlife, or two, reincarnation. If one wanted to enter the afterlife, they must face a choice – death, in the permanent form that we know today; or reanimation, where there is a chance you could return with your loved ones. Would reanimation be defying the gods, and by extension, nature? If death is no longer a factor in the equation, how does one enter the afterlife? How do you continue into the next life? Or is reanimation after death a literal version of reincarnation – and if this is chosen, is it unnatural? It could be argued that the creation of cryonics is God’s will, and God could want humans to go down that path, but there is still a choice to be made. Would defying death become a sin? Can the ‘immortal’ be religious? Do you have to be mortal to enter paradise?
Cryonics also implies that increased longevity is an answer to human progress. It functions in a way that believes if humanity could live longer, better, healthier lives, more progress would be made. And not just that, but the right kind of progress. Who is to say what the ‘right’ type of progress is, or that progress is slowing down or needs to increase? It assumes that the current brilliant minds are enough to progress humanity, but this is a positivists outlook – if cryonics is an option for everyone, then even the bad side of humanity can live longer. Is it right to pick and choose the ‘good’ and deny the ‘bad’ longevity? Is eliminating ‘bad’ minds really going to improve progress, or will it halt it?
Understandably, another shortfall of cryonics is that it is a largely untested area. It is theory only, due to the fact that it is relying on future technological advancements to be able to support its theory. And whilst many leading scientists do believe that nanotechnology is coming up strongly, the fact remains that reanimating the body could have unforeseen consequences. It is unknown, for example, where precisely a human’s personality is stored – in their brain structures, in their memories, and so on – and it is unknown whether these things will be accessible after death. Another form of cryonics – neuro-preservation – essentially preserves the head of a person, because it’s believed that the ‘self’ is located within the brain. This also implies that uploading a mind to a new body is another possibility. Whilst this has endless benefits for amputees, spinal cord injury victims and other physical disabilities, the consequences are (again) unknown. David Ettinger, son of the founder of the Cryonics Institute, thinks that due to the large increase of technological advancement over the last hundred years, “the logical thing to do is to try and take advantage of that for yourself. Try to be frozen. People on cryonics will say ‘we can’t be sure that cryonics will work’, but we can be sure that if you don’t try that, you don’t have a lot of options.” Can we really put so much faith in a technology that is so untested?
Transhumanism promotes the idea that humans aren’t anywhere near the peak of their evolutionary potential, but technology can take us there by helping us transcend what we currently are. Despite the shortfalls of cryonics, its untested theories and its moral and ethical contradictions, cryonics is ultimately humanity’s best hope of achieving “immortality” at the present time. David Ettinger thinks that “if you’re not frozen, you’re definitely not coming back”. Is this a risk that humanity should take, considering how little we know about it? Even if leading scientists, such as the physicists Richard Feynman and Freeman Dyson, believe cryonics and transhumanism is a very real possibility? Like all evolutionary change, engineered evolutionary change cannot be reversed: every such change has irreversible consequences. Everybody wants to live forever – but now the possibility is here, do we really?
Topic: Charles Darwin was not an evolutionist during his voyage on the Beagle – why was this? Why did he subsequently become an evolutionist, and in what ways was his voyage on the Beagle important for his evolutionary theorising and for his later scientific career? Support your judgments and hypotheses with appropriate historical and biographical evidence.
Graded: 18/25 - Distinction
Charles Darwin’s voyage on the Royal Navy survey vessel Beagle as a gentlemen-naturalist lasted five years and resulted in unexpected findings for the world and for Darwin himself. The voyage (27 December 1831 – 2 October 1836) traversed around the world, porting at various locations such as the Galapagos Islands and South America before returning to England. During the excursion, Darwin saw and theorised about things that no European naturalist had ever seen before, especially not from a Christian creationist perspective. Darwin’s transition from creationist to evolutionist would not have occurred without the Beagle and without the voyage, Darwin’s theory may never have come to light.
The younger Charles Darwin identified himself as a Christian creationist, not an evolutionist. He believed that nature was God’s design, and it was from this perspective that he desired to understand nature. When the Beagle stopped at the Galapagos Islands for five weeks in total, Darwin was confronted with unique species found nowhere else in the world, and was witness to new variations within species he could already recognize. However, the differences in nature that Darwin saw prompted him to begin theorising only a few weeks into the journey. Darwin collected hundreds of specimens that he shipped back to England for further study and identification, but he would not get the results until 1837, a year after the journey ended. Even upon his return to England after five years on the Beagle, Darwin would still identify as a creationist, and he would not take the title of evolutionist until he created his own evolutionary theory.
The Beagle acted as a doorway for many of Darwin’s discoveries that would later influence his scientific theory. Some of the fossils and specimens that he found could only be found in that specific geographical location – for example, the fossils found on the peak of the Andes Mountains, or the birds unique to the Galapagos Islands. This was the catalyst for the first of many questions Darwin asked himself – how did those unique species get to the islands, and why were they found nowhere else? Though he had theories, Darwin collected many specimens – plants, animals and fossils – which were shipped back to England for further examination, and he would not have found them without the Beagle voyage. These strange findings prompted Darwin to consider new theories of creation, drawing upon Lamarck’s theories, in the years following his Beagle voyage, which ultimately led to the creation of his own evolutionary theory.
Darwin subsequently became an evolutionist due to the specimens he discovered throughout his journey on the Beagle. He was particularly interested in the Andes Mountains and the goldmine of fossils discovered at the top of the peaks - this discovery indicated that the earth was much older than previously thought, which was only one of the many bombshells Darwin would deliver to the people. He also collected specimens from the Galapagos Islands and other pacific islands. Upon his return to England, Darwin distributed the specimens to specialists for identification and further study, having felt that he had observed all he could. This contact with leading scientific experts would be important for Darwin’s theorising and for his rise in the scientific world later in his career, specifically upon the publication of The Origin of Species.
As each new development emerged from the experts’ study of the specimens, Darwin sought to take it into account in his theorising. The results of the extensive testing on the specimens were not what Darwin expected. In 1837, Gould told Darwin that his ‘finches, wrens, gross-beaks and icteruses’ from the Galapagos were actually all finches – a new group of 13 species. Darwin was also informed that what he had originally thought to be three varieties of a single species of mockingbirds were actually three distinct species. From another expert Darwin learned that turtles from the Galapagos Islands were not found elsewhere in the world. Richard Owen told Darwin that his large South American fossils were ‘a gigantic ground sloth, an armadillo-like armored Glyptodon, and a large llama’. Suspecting that some of his new facts ‘undermined the stability of species’, Darwin realised that he was wondering whether the ‘laws of life’ allow the ‘transmutation’ (evolution) of one species into others over time. During 1837-1838, Darwin developed many ideas to explain this phenomenon before finally creating the theory of evolution that he would publish. The event that arguably cemented Darwin’s change to evolution was when his correspondent, Alfred Russel Wallace, in 1858 revealed that he had created his own theory of evolution almost identical to Darwin’s.
Darwin’s theory of evolution began with ideas typical of a creationist. At first, he thought the ‘laws of descent’ might be ‘built into’ the organism as its ‘organising energy’ or ‘life force’, but he found no evidence for this and disregarded the idea. Then he wondered whether the laws of descent might depend on an organism’s relationship with its environment (as Lamarck had thought), but he knew that flora and fauna breeders produce variation by selective breeding, regardless of the environment and needs of their breeding stock. Darwin later read Malthus’ An Essay on the Principle of Population, and realised that population can increase much faster than the food supply; therefore there was a competitive struggle for existence within a species. This realisation forced Darwin to abandon the Lamarckian approach and consider a more radical theory. He considered that variation might occur through chance instead of as a response to the environment. Furthermore, as naturally selected variations accumulated through heredity, differences between present and past varieties might become so great as to make them different species. This became the groundwork for Darwin’s theory, which would not be made public for another twenty years.
Hence, the journey on the H.M.S Beagle was key to Charles Darwin’s discoveries and theories for evolution. It was due to this opportunity (that Darwin nearly missed out on) that he progressed from creationism to evolutionism, and that propelled Darwin into the spotlight as an expert on geology, biogeography and evolution. It must be noted, however, that the Beagle was only part of Darwin’s success – without the help of other scientific experts and specialists; Darwin would not have gone beyond a hypothesis.
I know that your life didn’t turn out the way you expected and that you’re not where you envisioned yourself being when you were eighteen years old and overwhelmed with options. I know it’s hard to remember what it was like to know that the world was your oyster, and every door was open, and possibilities were lying laying themselves down at your feet. You had so many dreams that went to waste. But the fact of the matter is, you had it all once, and you can have it all again.
You were going to be an astronomer. You were going to map the stars and the planets and discover a galaxy. You were going to lose yourself in nebulas and supernovas and black holes. You were going to provide humanity with the proof they needed to believe that aliens existed somewhere in the universe, and you were going to provide an alternative to living on Earth when our planet finally, inevitably crumbles. You were going to immerse yourself in things bigger than yourself and equally as intricate and you’d rejoice in realising how small you are in the scale of the universe.
You considered being an architect. You wanted to build the next Sydney Opera House or the next Eiffel Tower. You wanted to blow people’s minds with sheer ingenuity and make observers feel things that they shouldn’t from a piece of art. You drew up plans and blueprints and buildings that defied the laws of physics. You tried to make papier-mâché buildings and origami roofs that failed miserably. You’d dream up ideas that could never be built and one day you decided that perhaps you’d better stick to drawing.
You were going to be a zoologist. The possibility of working with fluffy mammals filled you with joy and you wanted nothing more than to look after the next miracle panda or albino tiger. You wanted to name newborns stupid names that made the news and form unbreakable bonds that the animal would miraculously remember later in life when you were long gone. The reality of cleaning out filthy cages before dawn deterred you greatly, but working with animals was your dream. Animals weren’t complicated like humans were. They weren’t plagued with existential crises or torn morals or choices like humans were.
You were drawn to the idea of being an author. You’d immersed yourself in books your entire life and you wanted to create something equally special for the next generation. You wanted to build a world and go live in it, with people of your own design, problems of your own making, antagonists that you could relate to. You were infatuated with superpowers and extreme plots and deathly dangerous situations, and I know it hurt you as you realised that those sorts of things just didn’t exist in the everyday world, and you had to settle for your biggest enemies being taxes and Centrelink.
You wanted to be a lawyer. You daydreamed about your suit and about winning a court case. Justice was so important to you and you wanted to fight for the right thing. What the right thing was, you weren’t really sure – when a man appeared on the news, wanted for murder, you argued ‘an eye for an eye’ and demanded the death penalty, but when a woman was jailed for murder you thought that jail would suffice because women were discriminated against enough. You weren’t sure of the difference between equality and justice and your ethics were blurred but there was enough passion and drive in you to make you want to be the next Elle Woods. I know that nowadays you aren’t really sure where that passion disappeared to, but the fact of the matter is you had it once.
The reality was, once you hit adulthood, you had no idea what it was you actually wanted to do in life. Running around in circles in the backyard would have been more productive than deciding your future. In fact, you may as well have written all of your options down on pieces of paper, tossed them around in a hat, and pulled out a piece like a twisted game of lucky dip. I know you were lost and wandering with no direction, and when you somehow landed a job in the coffee shop in the city, it felt like your life had some sort of meaning.
I know that your first job was not what you imagined it would be. It was not exciting or adventurous or enrapturing. It was stressful and uncomfortable and filled with expectation. You had to learn how to make coffee and memorise the prices and remember the regular’s names and orders. You learnt that there were happy people and grumpy people in the morning, and even more so at lunchtime. I know that you can’t remember why you stopped wishing people a pleasant day.
I know you lost your smile in the morning. It was hard to remain joyful with your six am wake ups and your thirty-minute train rides. For six months out of twelve you rose before the sun and when you finally got off the train, the sun was hidden behind bleak grey skies, and that was the curse of winter. They say that there’s an actual mental disorder in which you suffer from depression during bad weather – it’s called Seasonal Affective Disorder – and I know that you’ve thought about diagnosing yourself more than once. They say that smiling at strangers helps to boost your own morale, but really, what was the point when they didn’t smile back? Maybe everybody suffered from SAD to some extent.
Listening to a busker on the way out of the station made you realise that you could never have the confidence to do something like that. That putting yourself out there was not in your cards. I know that you’re not sure when you lost your confidence, or when you settled into a routine firmly within your comfort zone, but you have, and you resent it slightly. You reminisce of the days you sought bigger things, greater things.
You weren’t sure when waking up in the morning became a chore and when everything seemed so pointless, but it had. You once felt like you had direction, but now you feel stuck. Bored. Dull was a word that you never wanted to apply to your life. You wanted to go on adventures and fight battles and win glory. Where had that gone, where were the days when you hoped for better things?
I know that it’s not enough for you to be content with your life anymore. You deserve better, greater things, and you can achieve the things you dreamt of as a child. Maybe you’ll plan to do something exciting during your well-earned time off work, or maybe you’ll find yourself a new job, or maybe you’ll travel around a bit, like I know you’ve wanted to do for a long time now. I suppose it doesn’t really matter what you choose to do, so long as you do something that makes you happy. I hope that you find the happiness you’ve been pretending to have.
In this assignment, I had to produce 6 pieces of work. The topics are as thus:
1: Write 400-600 words about a meal you shared with people who were important to you. Evoke the senses. Include description of people and food and at least 2 lines of dialogue.
2: Write a memoir piece on any topic that alternates scenes and information. Try and put information within scenes and dialogue. Make the information interesting and digestible.
3: Write a memoir piece on any topic of 400-600 words that includes ‘remembered dialogue’ between at least two characters. Use the techniques of ‘compositing’, ‘summary’, and ‘honesty’ that were covered in class. Also include ‘action beats’ and ‘internal monologue’.
4: Write a travel blog entry with a strong beginning and end that contains no cliches. 400-600 words.
5: You have been commissioned to write a review (400-600 words) for the loquacious lolly shoppe on their new lolly, ‘Lovely Lola’. Try the lolly and describe the flavours, and the sensation of it in your mouth. Give it a mark out of 10 and provide (fictional details) as to where people can buy it.
6: Write a 400-600 word arts review in a genre of your choice (film, visual art, book, video game, theatre etc.)
Grade: 21/30 - Distinction
Folio Assignment 1
Write 400-600 words about a meal you shared with people who were important to you. Evoke the senses. Include description of people and food and at least 2 lines of dialogue.
What makes a meal great? Is it the occasion, is it the guests, is it the calorie content? Is it the way a bite melts in your mouth and soaks into your tastebuds, or the way it sets your tongue on fire? Or is it the way the guests bring their own dishes to an event to help you out, covered with glad-wrap and carried in the ugliest tupperware container you could imagine? Perhaps there are many aspects to a great meal, but personally, the greatest meal I have every year is a Christmas feast.
It’s mostly all done by hand. My mother (all 5’4” of her) is a powerhouse in the kitchen, and loves to try new recipes out of Woman’s Weekly and New Idea. One year she made chocolate-covered rum balls, and whilst the rum was overpowering, everyone ate them because she was so proud of them. Another thing mum is proud of is her pork crackle on the roast - it is, every year without fail, always cooked to perfection, and is always the centrepiece of the feast. We also have a selection of cold meats: fresh turkey, roast chicken, and a juicy Christmas ham. They’re all carved often but it’s never enough to satisfy the family, as we love to nibble on the pieces in between meals. An entire kilo of prawns are peeled in the kitchen sink, a job that my aunty and sister fight over doing because they both love to snack on them whilst doing the chore. My grandma brings a plate of savouries, involving grilled toast with cheese, tomato and bacon, and some cheese puffs; this, coupled with cabana and crackers, is always the first dish to run empty, but the grease remains on our fingers in fond memory. There is an unsatisfying selection of stuffed peppers, green olives and feta cheese available, for those who have more adventurous tastes; personally, I enjoy looking at the bright colours, but nothing else. Best of all, there is a bowl full of chocolate; Favourites, Roses, Lindt balls and several homemade slices are thrown in there, and whilst it’s intended for dessert it barely lasts through the first course of lunch. And, if we’re lucky, my stepdad will bring out a crayfish from the freezer for us to eat, although not before he successfully scares the wits out of my two younger cousins by shoving its claws into their faces.
Lunch is accompanied by the crackers with terrible jokes and even worse gifts, annoying Christmas carols playing in the background, and my family trying to yell over each other so that we alone are heard. Ten of us are cramped around a single table, trying to find room for elbows, plates, and glasses of champagne and orange juice. This is even harder if somebody decides to bring a guest, who is forewarned to “never bring up politics at the table”. By the time two o’ clock rolls around, three of us are sporting stomachs twice the usual size and are zonked out on the couches and beds, three of us are in the kitchen cleaning up and wrapping up the extra food, one of us falls victim to the shrill pleas of “play with us!” from my younger cousins, and one of us is demanding attention from absolutely everybody but receiving none, much to their displeasure. By three in the afternoon, some of the food starts reappearing and disappearing into peckish mouths, and that is a sign of a great meal.
Folio Assignment 2
Write a memoir piece on any topic that alternates scenes and information. Try and put information within scenes and dialogue. Make the information interesting and digestible.
The first proper party I went to was in 2013 for my boyfriend’s best friends’ girlfriend’s birthday. It was height of my year, being invited to a girl’s house to get drunk and dance with the kids I went to primary school with and mainly avoided. That was a minor sacrifice for me though. The benefit of getting drunk and dancing completely outweighed socialising with people I haven’t seen in six years.
For the most part, they ignored me, and I enjoyed that. I didn’t want to speak to them and was quite pleased to discover they didn’t want to speak to me. I offered them cake, and they accepted, and that was quite literally the extent of our conversation.
The girl in question, Jess, had turned 18. This was a massive milestone for us. Everybody wanted to be 18 and everyone was jealous that Jess turned it first. I was but 16 at her party, but that was alright. I liked being the dancing queen, young and sweet, only sixteen. Everybody thought it was a massive joke that I was the youngest and I played the part of innocence well.
Too well, apparently. Everybody thought this was the first time I was getting drunk and believed me to be gullible.
“Have some Smirnoff, a nice big gulp will do you good.”
“Goon is the best, honestly, it’s all you should ever drink.”
“No, I haven’t spiked your drink, why would you think that?”
As a matter of fact, this was my second time getting drunk, and I wasn’t quite accustomed to the tingling feeling in my thighs that came with the passionfruit UDL I was drinking. I tried to seem cool and detached from it - because that was what I felt I should do, as nobody liked a lightweight - but that got boring, and I let myself sink into the pleasant buzz and carefreeness that I felt. I allowed myself to feel the weak bass from the music vibrate through my toes, I lost myself in the music and the giddiness I’d held back. Immediately, I was ganged up on.
“You’re faking being drunk, you were not like this five minutes ago!”
“Yeah, stop faking, it’s not cool.”
“You need to drink a bit more than that before it affects you.”
Needless to say, I sobered up my act, and glowered at anybody who dared look at me wrong.
The party was being held in Jess’s backyard and it was covered by a nice triangle roof. That roof did absolutely nothing for the bitter wind that ripped right through my silver dress and into my soul, so my favourite place to stand was besides the small fire that was lit. It did marvels for my legs, and more than once I swore they were burning. That was where I stayed for most of the evening, except for when I went on patrol duty to look after the more gullible girls who were vulnerable to a nasty boys’ charm, which was far more often than I’d have liked.
I never fell prey to such charms. I was happy with my boyfriend, who kept me company all night. I was lightyears ahead of other girls in terms of maturity and levelheadedness. I believed I was not like other girls.
Folio Assignment 3
Write a memoir piece on any topic of 400-600 words that includes ‘remembered dialogue’ between at least two characters. Use the techniques of ‘compositing’, ‘summary’, and ‘honesty’ that were covered in class. Also include ‘action beats’ and ‘internal monologue’.
I remember the day my parents announced their divorce. It was long before I’d hit double digits in age, before I’d hit even the second grade. I was too young, I had been told, to understand what my parents had been going through. But I knew. I’d lived with them and had seen with my own eyes their arguments and spats. I knew what was going on.
We had gathered at the kitchen table. We still have that table today, covered in graffiti from years past. I remember that the lights were dimmed low, as it was nearly eight pm and so close to our bedtime. The lights were old fashioned, with the bulbs over the table only able to turn on if one pulls the cord dangling from the roof. That night, the cord swayed from side to side as a spider used it as a foundation to make a cobweb. I watched that spider a lot that evening, unsure of where else to look.
My mother sat on the left end of the table, my dad on the right. Looking back, I compare it to battle lines in war, and us children were in the crossfire - where we stood dictated what side we were on, which of course was not the case at the time. We stood in silence whilst my dad, a man of not so many words, simply said to us that they were getting a divorce.
‘Now, this doesn’t mean we don’t love you any less,’ my mother had promised us. ‘We just need to part ways.’ ‘You’ll still see me on holidays,’ my father had added, and because I felt like he was somehow loved less by us kids in comparison to my mum, I moved to sit on his knee. With a brief pat on the head, he whispered to me, ‘We’ll be okay, Squirt.’
Despite my movement, I hadn’t chosen Dad’s side in the battle. I remember regretting the moment I sat on his knee, wishing beyond belief that I could sit with my mum without seeming rude. My eldest sister followed afterwards, instead choosing to sit with my mum, whilst my other sister hovered somewhere in the middle, unsure of where her loyalties lay. Later in life, she’d switch between parents, justifying the flaws of each, saying things like ‘It’s not that Dad isn’t emotional, he just doesn’t know how to express himself,’ and ‘Mum hovers a lot, but at least she cares.’ She didn’t stay with either parent long enough to really learn who they were, and today I know that loyalty is not a trait she possesses.
The divorce announcement ended with my dad wiping away a stray tear - the first and last one I’ve ever seen from him - and my mum wishing us all a good nights rest. I think that they tried to make the moment as dreadfully dull as possible so that we wouldn’t remember it as we grew up, or think badly of them for being dramatic about such a simple issue. If that was the case, they failed. I remember.
Folio Assignment 4
Write a travel blog entry with a strong beginning and end that contains no cliches. 400-600 words.
Melbourne is said to have the greatest public transport system in the first world. Which is fine and all, once you’ve mastered the mysteries of the MyKi and V-Line and figured out where you want to go and which service line will get you there. But, at least if you can’t figure it out, there are plenty of customer service assistants around to help you. They don’t think any question is dumb and they truly are heroes in fluoride vests.
As I sit on the train from Hawthorn to Parliament Station, which is only a very short ride in the scheme of things, I have to wonder how they measure the pleasantness of public transport. Is it a rating system? Is there criteria that has to be met? Is it based purely on efficiency? In terms of the actual experience on public transport, everything runs smoothly enough, but it’s not just about that.
There is an undeniable feeling of “public” about trains and you can pick it out if you look hard enough. There is graffiti sprayed throughout the cabin, spelling words that didn’t make sense or that I can’t read because they are illegible. The glass is scratched with hundreds on lines made by an insistent person, desperate to leave their mark permanently for everyone to see, made with some sort of sharp instrument that had probably been used for much worse. The smell of the carriage is overwhelming, but of what I can’t quite pinpoint. It’s an underlying tone of dry skin, bad body odour, dirty socks and coffee, mixed in with the smell of a brand new suit, fake rubber handbags, too much perfume and hairspray. If you’re lucky enough to be on the train with very few other passengers, like me, then you can smell cotton that has absorbed sweat, and if humid, warm air had a smell, the train embodied it.
The smell might be disconcerting, but all that aside, the train ride is quite enjoyable. Between ten and four in the day, you’ve more than a fifty per cent chance of getting a seat. There’s also a fifty per cent chance of sitting in the wrong direction, so if you get travel sick like I do, take careful consideration as to whether you can handle sitting backwards the whole trip.
The other passengers mind their own business on the train, too, which is a big plus for introverts like myself. One of the biggest shocks I had upon coming to Melbourne is finding out that it’s almost considered rude to make conversation on public transport. For such a social city, it’s a strange segregation. You plug in your headphones, or look at the floor or out the window, and you’re free to lose yourself in your thoughts. I prefer the trains to trams or buses. They’re much more comfortable and have a higher chance of running on time.
The only problem is that a lot of others think this way as well, so the train can get quite crowded. There is nothing else quite like getting on the train in peak hour, eight a.m traffic, where you’re surrounded by stuffy business men in suits with briefcases, and there is nothing else quite like being swarmed between three and five p.m by school children with bags three times the width of themselves. You don’t know crowded until you’ve taken a peak hour train.
Folio Assignment 5
You have been commissioned to write a review (400-600 words) for the loquacious lolly shoppe on their new lolly, ‘Lovely Lola’. Try the lolly and describe the flavours, and the sensation of it in your mouth. Give it a mark out of 10 and provide (fictional details) as to where people can buy it.
Hard-boiled lollies are a favourite fall-back for parents who have excitable children they wish would quieten down, and also a parent’s worst nightmare in terms of sugar highs and the inevitability of broken or rotten teeth. Regardless, any parent would be hard-pressed to walk by this sugary delight again once they’ve had a taste, whether it be for noisy children or for a private treat for themselves in the depths of the night.
Lovely Lola’s are Sassafras’ latest creation, handmade from only the finest ingredients, colouring, and flavouring. They come in the familiar shape of humbugs, reminding the older generation of better days and gifting the younger generation with bite-sized treats. Whilst the roughness of the outside may come as a shock at first, with some determined sucking, they’ll smooth out soon enough, and as the intense flavour settles into your saliva it’s like being rewarded for your hard work. They are the perfect size to fit squarely in the centre of your tongue, too, which means you can close your jaw all the way to ensure sneaky snacking. Perfect!
Lovely Lola’s are filled with the overwhelming sweetness of a mix of caramel, butterscotch, and other rich flavours. They are creamy, like the ever-popular Chuppa Chup lollipop flavour, Strawberries and Cream (focusing, of course, on the creamy half - there is absolutely no strawberry in sight for this flavour!). They are rich in a taste that doesn’t fade no matter how long it’s been in your mouth, it remains on your tastebuds for hours after it’s gone, and they’re so addictive that you’ll wonder how you ever survived without them before. One is just not enough to satisfy your daily sugar dose - even I struggled writing this review after just one! - you absolutely have to have multiple. Or dozens. Maybe even more.
These marvellous creations are a nice change of pace for Sassafras. Whilst lollipops and sugar rocks are an old-time favourite of every child, a parent simply cannot say no to something that they remember having as a child. Picking the humbug shape was a good move on Sassafras’ behalf; it gets parents involved in their children’s lives (can you hear the cries of ‘You’re getting this and that’s final!’ yet?), and sparks a conversation that will undoubtedly begin with, “Back in my day…”
Lovely Lola’s don’t just come in this beautiful Butterscotch flavour, either. Sassafras’ signature Strawberry flavour makes an appearance, as well as Watermelon and Peppermint.
Final result: 10/10, would definitely recommend.
Folio Assignment 6
Write a 400-600 word arts review in a genre of your choice (film, visual art, book, video game, theatre etc.)
The book-to-movie adaptation of Vampire Academy, originally written by Richelle Mead, was an unfortunate box-office failure. Being a widely popular young adult novel, many fans were disappointed and often disgusted by the decisions made by the production team, and were horrified that due to the disastrous release, they would not receive a sequel.
Vampire Academy is the story of the dhampir (half vampire-half human) Rose Hathaway and her best friend, a moroi (pureblood vampire), Vasilisa Dragomir. The film opens with the girls’ return to St. Vladimir’s Academy, a school designed for the various types of vampires, after having previously run away a year beforehand. Rose is thrown back into guardian training, to serve as Vasilisa’s protector, where she meets Dimitri Belikov – her hardcore, mysterious love interest. Meanwhile Vasilisa is shamed publicly by Queen Tatiana for disappearing, as she is the last to carry on the name of her royal bloodline. Now trapped in the confines of the academy, the two girls are threatened by an unknown enemy - one who is determined to frighten Vasilisa into leaving the school once again, for good. Whilst trying to cope with this new conflict, the girls also struggle to become accustomed to their mental “bond”, which quickly poses a threat to Vasilisa’s mental health. Whilst all of these attributes scream fantasy and action, the Vampire Academy film takes on a Mean Girls spin, with classic dialogue in the novel being replaced with over-the-top teenager-style conversation, and obviously Americanised traits.
Rose Hathaway is played by Zoey Deutch, and in terms of appearance, looks precisely how the novels described her. And despite obvious flaws, Deutch does a wonderful job of displaying Rose’s rebelliousness, attitude and spunk on-screen - regardless of the fact that some of her lines are cringe-worthy, her acting is brilliant. Lucy Fry plays Vasilisa Dragomir, and it was disappointing for many viewers that she possessed a strange accent of something between British and American. Besides the obviously edited green eyes (Fry also cannot be blamed for her trashy dialogue), she did a fine job of portraying the mentally-ill princess.
Though there may be some discrepancies in terms of characters, for setting, the directors of Vampire Academy got it right. Inside the Academy’s castle walls is the perfect mix of technology and tradition, as stated directly in Mead’s novels - however, this mix is slightly contradicted by the opening narration to the Academy (“Goodbye Facebook. Goodbye iPhone 5”). St Vladimir’s Academy is canonically placed in the wilderness of Montana, and if the closing out-view of the scenery is any indication, the school was definitely in the right place. If the plot is questionable, it is reassuring to viewers that some canon details were kept.
The Vampire Academy film, whilst a box-office failure and a let down for many fans, is still an enjoyable movie if you disregard its flaws, and incompatibility with the novel. It is an easy watch, and goes well with other movies such as The Mortal Instruments, Beautiful Creatures and The Host.
In this assignment, I had to create a sitcom series and outline the A, B and C plots of two episodes.
Grade: 38/40 - High Distinction
PART ONE: Series Overview
The Lion’s Den is a mockumentary that follows four young adults throughout their journey into “adulthood” and the “real world”. It’s designed for a target audience of those aged 16-35 and goes for a commercial half-hour (roughly 22 minutes). It follows themes of friendship prevailing above all else; trying new things to discover yourself; realizing that the best option is not always the right option for you, and sometimes ‘good enough’ will do.
The theme of the show is a universal one so I feel that despite the London setting, the show can be understood internationally.
The Lion’s Den revolves around four young adults who live opposite each other in an apartment building. Lily is the main character – a red-headed angel with a heart bigger than her body – and as a result, she is ruled by her emotions. She will often let her anger get the better of her in an argument, but once she’s cooled off and can think rationally about the situation, she’ll apologise profusely and hand out second chances like candy. And third chances, and fourth chances. Lily craves her independence from her parents. Throughout the series she grows to become desperate for her own job and this increases when her parents threaten to stop her allowance.
Lily lives with her best friend Claire, who is hiding a terrible secret from her neighbours. The two girls moved to London to escape Claire’s past, where Claire was plagued with pitying looks and was avoided whenever possible. However, Claire soon learns that she can’t run from everything, with the reappearance of her panic attacks and, later in the season, the return of her most hated cousin as Alex’s new girlfriend. Claire likes to dabble in different professions, but doesn’t believe in volunteer work since she doesn’t get compensated for it, and she often argues with Lily over this. She likes to push boundaries with people and bend the rules to suit her. She is also unforgiving, which contradicts with Lily’s kindness. Claire can also be quite selfish, and doesn’t take others into consideration when making decisions.
Across the hall live Jasper and Alex, who have been best friends since high school. Jasper is a police officer stuck in the traffic sector, and he wants to be promoted to a detective more than anything else in the world. However, Jasper is extremely gullible and trusts easily, and this puts him behind the other candidates. Jasper relies heavily on first-impressions, and has a black-and-white morality. He develops feelings for Lily quickly, but these affections can cloud his mind, and he is inclined to believe that love is more important above all else.
Alex wants an easy life that pays well. Despite this clear goal, he doesn’t know what job he wants, so he is stuck in his much-hated role as a security officer. Alex is loyal to a fault and would go down swinging for anyone he deemed worthy - which, for the majority of the time, is Jasper, and occasionally the girls. He is a drama queen, and likes to make insignificant problems major. However, any problem that doesn’t directly affect him, he doesn’t care for. He gets bored very easily and like to buy things online, and sign up for free trials for testing products, and this can end badly. Alex’s most prized possession is his motorbike and won’t hear a word against it. Later in the season Alex dates Claire’s cousin (he was unaware of their relation) but quickly is rid of her once he sees the toll it has on Claire.
Remy is good friends with Jasper and Alex and he desperately wants to move to London to be closer them. Though not a main character, he is a constant guest on the show. Remy comes to stay with the boys whenever he has a promising job offer in London, but it unfortunately never amounts to anything. Ever optimistic, Remy keeps trying, and swears that one day he’ll make it to the ‘big city’.
By the end of the season, Jasper and Lily show promising signs of attraction. Jasper gets the promotion and finds that the increased workload tears him away from his friends, allowing him to realise that he values his friends more than his career. Lily loses her allowance from her parents and risks losing her place in her shared apartment. Alex finds himself a job at the Aquarium that he loves. Claire comes to terms with the tragedy of her past and finds solace when her cousin finally disappears. Remy’s fate will remain unknown – he receives a phone call from a job interview, but the viewers don’t find out the result until the next season.
INFLUENCES AND CRUCIAL DIFFERENCES:
Friends:
No main characters are related, and the pairs moved in together because they were childhood friends, not through luck or random housemate postings.
Rules of Engagement:
The two couples are the same ages, and the semi-awkward-third-wheel Russell does not exist, instead is replaced with Alex and Jasper’s childhood friend Remy, who is not a constant on the show.
How I Met Your Mother:
The premise of the story for HIMYM is that it’s future-Ted telling his kids the story of his past. This does not happen, with everything happening in the present/real-time.
Two Broke Girls:
Half of my main characters are females and are different to each other, and I believe they will not fulfill stereotypical roles.
3 SUMMARISED EXAMPLES OF STORYLINES:
Storyline 1: Lily falls victim to a charity scam, and Alex, Jasper and Claire decide to go shake things up. They hunt down the scammer and – whilst Jasper turns his back – give him a little rough-n-tumble, before placing him under arrest. Claire picks his pocket and steals his wallet, taking back the amount he stole from Lily. Meanwhile, Lily is left to her own devices at the homeless shelter she’s volunteering at, and she has to deal with a food shortage.
Storyline 2: In the middle of a nerf gun battle, Alex breaks his arm, and milks the accident for all it’s worth. Whilst Lily and Claire pamper him, Alex’s girlfriend comes and pays him a visit – Claire’s cousin, Alannah. Claire has stern words with her about keeping her mouth shut about Claire’s business, and she’ll do the same for Alannah, who agrees.
Alex preens under the attention of three women and his spirit isn’t dampened when it is revealed that he is fired from his job due to the extended leave required for his arm, and despite Jasper’s extensive pushing, Alex chooses not to take them to court for unfair dismissal, instead immersing himself in art and other creative lines of work. Claire and Alex begin to bond over mosaic work, a passion of Claire’s, and out of jealousy Alannah reveals Claire’s darkest secret: that her parents died in a car crash, whilst Claire was learning to drive.
Storyline 3: Lily’s parent’s come to visit her and decide that if she doesn’t get a job soon, they’ll take away her allowance. A week later, they do so. Meanwhile, Alex isn’t happy with the way Alannah treated Claire the last time they saw each other, and he breaks up with her at a bar.
PART TWO: Episode Outlines
EPISODE 1: THE PRANK WAR (Pilot)
[OPENING SCENE]
Lily and Claire are standing in the hallway outside their new apartment and describe to the camera the unfortunate events that occurred whilst they moved in.
- It was thirty degrees.
- The couch they bought online was bigger than they expected it to be, and heavier, and they had two carry it up two flights of stairs by themselves.
- The same with their mattresses and the two armchairs.
- The lift in their building is temperamental and occasionally stops for no reason whatsoever, and they were stuck in the lift for a good five minutes with their overflowing suitcases and boxes of ornaments.
[TITLE SCENE]
Due to the extreme and unusual heat, the girls turned on their air conditioner to the strongest setting as soon as they entered their apartment. By the time they’d settled in all their furniture, it was at full power, which did not go unnoticed by their nosy neighbours from across the hall. Jasper and Alex had been taking turns peeping out of their eye hole in the door to spy on the girls, trying to discern whether they’re approachable or not. After a few whispered arguments, Alex got sick of Jasper and finally stomped across the hall and knocked loudly on the girls’ door. It opened somewhat cautiously.
The boy, who had long, floppy hair, whipped it out of his face as he demanded to be let inside. The girl who’d opened the door, a red head with a temper to match, immediately declined, saying that she had no idea who he was, and how dare he have the nerve? The other boy, who had rushed out of their apartment as soon as the door opened and was hovering behind Alex, quickly intervenes, introducing himself as Jasper and his friend as Alex, ‘who has no manners whatsoever, and may we please come inside?’ Another girl appears at the door and points out that the girls could be serial killers. Alex impolitely asks them to wait until he cools down before murdering him, and pushes his way inside. Jasper grimaces and waits to be beckoned inside, where he learns the girls’ names are Lily and Claire, a red head and a blonde, respectively.
The boys make themselves at home on their couch, which was directly in the path of the cool air. They close their eyes and Jasper makes conversation, to which he receives strangely vague answers, such as “a change of scenery,” and “I’m in the market”. Alex directs the conversation back to himself and Jasper, where he explains that they are both cops - a fact Jasper denies, and corrects to, “I’m a policeman, you’re a security officer, and you hate it - don’t pretend -”. Eventually, the boys fall asleep on their couch, and Claire decides to draw on their faces with Sharpie, unaware that it will start a prank war that lasts an entire week (and the episode).
- Alex isn’t afraid of insects of any sort, and personally placed a giant house spider in Lily and Claire’s letterbox. Lily is deathly afraid of spiders and passed out when she saw the spider on her hand, after screaming loudly and waving the spider off her hand into god-knows-where.
- As revenge, Lily wants to hit Alex where it hurts, and after following him for an entire day she discovers his beloved motorbike, hidden away in the apartment’s parking area. She takes the air out of both the tyres and the whole building shook when Alex stomped his way up to her apartment to yell at her for being disrespectful to his bike.
- Alex enlists Jasper’s help and together they change the locks on the girls’ door, refusing to give them the new keys until they got on their knees and begged, much to their distaste.
- It was Claire’s idea to put a raw fish behind the boys’ fridge, stinking out their apartment, and Lily snuck in whilst Jasper was in the shower (and she sees steam coming out from the door and hears him singing and is almost tempted to film it but resists). (URST)
- The boys break into their apartment whilst they’re out for coffee and steal all their lingerie, and hang it from fishline out their own window. Neither of the girls discovered it was missing until Lily exited her shower in naught but a towel and, upon finding no clean underwear available, raced across to their apartment and shrieked at them until Claire woke up. (URST)
Meanwhile, Lily successfully convinces Claire to accompany her to an animal shelter. Claire swears she won’t be doing any volunteer work, but she does browse the animals there, and falls in love with a parrot with a broken wing. Lily tries to convince her not to buy it, but her efforts were fruitless, and by the end of the episode Claire had successfully taught it many curse words, which were directed at the boys.
[CLOSING SCENE]
Lily and Claire look exhausted in front of the camera. ‘It’s Sunday, and we called a truce on the prank war,’ Lily tells the audience. ‘Those boys take pranking far too seriously,’
‘To the grave,’ Claire agrees.
A Plot: Prank War
B Plot: Parrot
C Plot: Meeting the characters.
EPISODE 2: GIRL NEXT DOOR
[OPENING SCENE]
Jasper talks directly to the camera, behind the desk at the police station. “This is the situation.”
[FLASHBACK] Cut to Jasper at the desk doing work. He is but a mere traffic cop, but there is a lot of paperwork involved, if the stacks of paper at his desk were any indication. A woman pauses at his desk - the secretary of the boss. They engage in discussion about the function the next day. The woman, Janey, expresses her disgust for such events, “…but hey, at least you’ll be there,” and comments on how she loves men in suits whilst giving Jasper an obvious once-over. “…I especially love taking men out of them, if you get my drift.”
Jasper panics and exclaims that he has a girlfriend who will be attending the function with him, and Janey backs off, but is too keen to meet her. As she walks away, Jasper quickly rushes out of the office with a few choice swear words, leaving his jacket behind, which Janey returns at the function the next day with a sultry note, depicting a time and place to meet.
[TITLE SCENE]
Jasper returns to his apartment and begins to rant to Alex about the woman, who is clearly sleeping with the boss and cheating on her husband, and has no morals at all, and has a bow-legged walk. Dramatically, he reveals to Alex that he told Janey he had a girlfriend. Alex cleverly replies “You’re screwed, then.” After Jasper tells him he’s a useless best friend, Alex waves his hand in the direction of the girls across the hall.
“Jasper, you have two very beautiful women right at your disposal who can pretend to be your girlfriend for a bloody day. Go ask one of them.”
In the girls’ apartment, the two are curled up on the couch underneath an ugly blanket with a bowl of popcorn between them, untouched. The room is dark and they are enraptured in a scary movie. When Jasper knocks loudly on the door, they scream and the popcorn falls off the couch. Lily opens the door and he barges in without asking entry, showing his stress because he always waits to be invited in. He rants quickly about needing a fake girlfriend for the day, about Janey, and about this being Alex’s suggestion. Claire stifles her giggles throughout his speech, but says it can’t be her, because she has a job interview that she can’t miss (this is a lie). Lily reluctantly agrees to go, in return for an open favor from Jasper, who immediately agrees.
At the function, the two immediately bump into Janey, who is very interested in Lily, and suggestively returns Jasper’s coat that he left behind at work. Lily simply rolls her eyes at Janey’s antics, and is relieved when her husband shows up and steers her away, shooting Jasper filthy looks. The couple moves inside to where speeches were being held – which are very boring – and Lily entertains herself by nearly getting Jasper in trouble, which makes him stress.
- Throws grapes and nuts at co-workers but misses because she’s a terrible shot
- Bets on Jasper’s behalf on the worst items at auction, almost making him win and deal with the item
- Threatens to tell Janey the truth about them if he doesn’t do exactly what she tells him to do, which was mainly wine fetching and dancing.
The couple gets so bored at four p.m. that they decide to leave early, and they sneak away from the gathering by walking behind the buildings in the gardens. Lily receives a text from Claire, wanting a photo of the two of them on their first ‘date’, and Lily prepares the camera on her phone. The two flirt a little and Lily begins recording Jasper making funny faces. However the two run into Janey, who was having a smoke. Janey says she’s pleased that Jasper got her note (“What note?”) but she didn’t expect him so early. She also didn’t expect Lily there, but that was alright, because she’s never tried a threesome with a girl before but it should be fun. Jasper and Lily look at each other, wide-eyed, and make a run for it.
In the car, Lily realises that she’d accidentally recorded the whole thing, and she and Jasper agree to keep it - just in case.
They return to their building, where they hover outside their apartments, still giggling from the incident. The two have a cliché romantic moment, with Jasper tugging a strand of hair out of Lily’s face, and he compliments her on her wonderful job as a fake girlfriend. There is a lot of staring and deep breathing. Then, they hear screaming from inside Lily’s apartment, and they rush inside to find Claire and Alex watching a horror film in the dark. Alex had hidden his face behind a cushion. Jasper and Lily hurry to join, jumping on the couch and diving under the blankets too.
[CLOSING SCENE]
Jasper tells the camera, smiling, ‘I guess it all worked out alright.’
A Plot: Lily and Jasper fake-dating (URST)
B Plot: Alex and Claire bonding throughout the day, ending with scary movies.
C Plot: Janey’s advances and potential repercussions from the video.
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