Thursday, March 25, 2010

Narrative Reveal and Act Structure in Wes Anderson's Bottle Rocket

(note: This was a paper I used for a class on American Cinema since 1970 which I received a 98% on. I am reprinting this in slightly edited form for my two-and-a-half readers.)

As one of the many examples of the independent film movement of the 1990’s, it isn’t too surprising that Wes Anderson’s Bottle Rocket doesn’t appear to follow typical Hollywood structural and stylistic traits. On the surface level, the film takes the conventions of the gangster film and turns them upside down, focusing on seemingly well off characters (with the exception of Dignan) enticed by the romantic notion of living a life of crime, rather than working class characters who see it as their only way out. Perhaps because the characters were already relatively well-off, the motivations for their actions Bottle Rocket are not always obvious and clear-cut, and they are revealed at a very different pace than a typical Hollywood film would reveal them at.

The plot itself is continuously unfolding with relatively unpredictable events, which seems to stand in clear opposition to the “situation-resolution” plots in many Hollywood films. For example, in the film Die Hard, there is a very clear trajectory for the plot by the end of the first act: once the terrorists invade Nakatomi plaza, it’s pretty clear that most of the rest of the film is going to be spent ousting the terrorists, and the end will likely be a climactic duel. In The Untouchables, we can count on the downfall of Al Capone as the climax right after the opening shot, no less. Bottle Rocket, on the other hand, presents many different situations throughout the film, often followed by new developments and new situations. While the climax of the film is not completely unrelated to its set-up, it is not as easily foreseeable as the climax of films such as Die Hard or The Untouchables.

Because of this more complex structure, it is a bit more difficult to divide Bottle Rocket comfortably into Kristin Thompson’s four-act structure she outlines in Storytelling in the New Hollywood. The set-up and complicating action have very clear cut turning points, which as Thompson defines as the shifts of the protagonists’ goals in different directions which signal the end of the act (Thompson 27). While the turning points in the development, climax and epilogue are also quite clear cut, their running times are noticeably shorter than the set-up and the complicating action. Because of this, the film could be said to have either a three-act or four-act structure, though it’s also possible to cut the complicating action into two parts and label it a five-act structure, which is almost unheard of for a film that only runs 87.5 minutes (excluding the end credits), but is perhaps the most fitting.

The Set Up: You can’t save everyone

Bottle Rocket begins with a departure. Anthony Adams is about to leave from a mental health clinic, in a way meant to convince his friend Dignan that he is escaping, though in actuality, the clinic was a voluntary institution Anthony had checked himself into. This very first scene of the film already establishes important character traits about its dual protagonists, Anthony and Dignan. Dignan seems to clearly love the execution exciting, if illegal, plans. This is further embellished upon in the next scene, with Dignan revealing to Anthony a plan which goes many years into the future, through which they live a life of organized crime and eventually “go legit,” seemingly a reference to The Godfather.

Anthony’s main trait at this point in the film seems to be his willingness to encourage Dignan to follow his dreams, as ridiculous as they may be. This part of his character is established through the conversation with his doctor as he climbs out the window, with the doctor reminding Anthony to not try to “save everyone,” though it soon becomes apparent that Anthony isn’t taking that advice to heart at this point in time.

The film doesn’t wait long to dive into Dignan’s plans, which include a practice run, which subsequently turns out to be of Anthony’s own house, and an actual robbery of a book store, all in order to join “the team” of a local thief named Mr. Henry. The focus of the rest of this segment is developing Dignan’s character, mostly through perception of him by others as being someone who is not to be taken seriously. This is most apparent through the characters of Anthony’s younger sister Grace and the workers at the book store they rob. Grace claims to see Dignan as a likable guy, but her reaction to Anthony’s mention of him is less than enthusiastic. While planning for the robbery, he threatens that there will not be a “gang” (surprisingly not using the word “team”) when he feels that Anthony and Bob aren’t taking his plan seriously. During the robbery sequence, the clerks working are not afraid to insult him to his face, despite the fact that he is carrying a loaded weapon and demanding all the money in their drawer.

While Dignan is clearly a wannabe criminal at this point, Anthony doesn’t seem to have much motivation to go anywhere in life. Like the protagonist of Albert Camus’ The Stranger, life seems to just happen to him, and he’s rather comfortable with it being that way. It’s established that he’s never had a job, that he abruptly left his ex-girlfriend simply for coming to the sudden realization that he did not want to see her or her friends anymore, and that his reason for entering the clinic was simply because he was tired of answering peoples’ questions. There does seem to be subtle hinting that he desires a girlfriend and/or sex, as his behavior when talking to Stacy, his ex-girlfriend’s sorority sister seems to border on being flirtatious.

A third factor in the plot comes through Bob Mapplethorpe, who is not really a protagonist of the film so much as he is the unfortunate victim of the side-effects of Dignan’s behavior. His main defining characteristics seem to be his desire to be a part of a “team,” which is a recurring motif throughout the film, and his love/hate relationship with his older brother Future Man. He comes much closer to being a criminal than Dignan or Anthony, as he grows marijuana in his yard.

Dignan’s motivation is finally revealed after the heist: Mr. Henry was his former boss at his job in the landscaping business, who suddenly fired him. As he liked that job very much, his feelings were clearly hurt by the firing ordeal. This revelation is the beginning of a turning point, and after a pop music montage which references Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless (through a series of jump cuts in a car ride as Dignan shoots bottle rockets out the window of a car) and a short conversation about whether or not crime pays, the first act finishes as they drive up to a motel.

Complicating Action: Bob’s gone. He stole his car.

Act two begins in the motel the next morning, about 23.5 minutes into the film. Here begins a noticeable “lull,” a seeming shift in the pace of the film meant for introducing new subplots and furthering development of the main characters (Thompson 43). For the next half and hour, Dignan, Anthony, and (at first) Bob are laying low at the motel. Anthony takes a dive into the pool, which not only serves as a reference to The Graduate, but allows him to discover a romantic subplot when he makes his way to the surface. If his flirtatiousness with Stacy was subtly hinting that he was looking for some sort of female companionship, his first notice of Inez makes his desire much more obvious, as he follows her around the motel, talking his head off to her, despite the fact she does not understand English well at this point.

Dignan’s main concern at this point is hiding the identities of the members of his team, which as usual is not taken at all seriously by Anthony. Bob seems to be more willing to follow Dignan’s lead at first, agreeing to go to a barbershop for a haircut, but gets a reality check when his brother is put in jail for the marijuana crop that was going. This further develops Dignan’s lack of a grip on reality, as he sees laying low a far more important task than helping Bob’s brother. Dignan also betrays a bit of jealousy toward Anthony, as he seems to keep bumping into Anthony’s private moments with Inez. Whether he’s jealous that Anthony is with a pretty girl or because Inez is taking up time with his friend is unclear. All this begins the dissolution of “the team” that forms one of the major subplots of the second act.

What tempts me to cut the complicating action in half is the shift in tone at approximately 35 minutes into the film. Bob leaves, “stealing his car,” as an angry Dignan puts it. Anthony’s relationship with Inez also begins to change around this point, as soon after he has a noticeable jealous streak when she talks to another man in Spanish at a club that she, Anthony, and Dignan are visiting, and is clearly upset when she says she does not want to leave the motel with the two partners in petty crime. While she does later admit she loves him (through another motel employee, Rocky, translating her Spanish to English), this message doesn’t quite reach him as Dignan misinterprets it.

When the Dignan and Anthony do leave the motel, it’s accompanied by a pop music montage of them driving through the countryside, leading into a fight between the two of them. Like the end of the set-up, the end of the complicating action is marked by a revelation in the character of Dignan, once again elaborating how neglected he feels by society, or Anthony in particular this time, and showing his desire to be respected.

Development: It’d mean a lot to me if you let me do this one on my own.

A narrative ellipsis and time-compression montage mark the beginning of the development. Anthony reveals through a voice-over narrated letter to grace that he is living at Bob’s, and in a stark contrast to their earlier states, the two of them are now both working three part time jobs. Though he and Dignan had been fighting in the last scene, he betrays a fondness for his old friend when describing the spirit of the kids on the soccer team he coaches, which also counts as another iteration of the “team” motif. Even when Dignan’s not around, Anthony apparently has the desire to belong to a team. With Inez out of the picture, however, he has gone back to lacking any clear immediate goals, and mostly seems content just to survive.

Dignan has not changed one bit, however. He shows not only having been reunited with Mr. Henry, but with a new heist and a desire to reunite his “team” to pull off the job. Mr. Henry’s motivation for working with Dignan becomes clear: it’s not because of his skills, but because of his heart, and the fact that he lost his “team.” Anthony is unwilling to until Future Man making fun of Dignan causes him to feel sympathetic, and a desire to see Dignan succeed.

The team motif shows up in one more place to great affect when Bob rejoins. After a brief fight, Dignan tells Bob that they would like to have him on “the team.” This cuts directly to the team eating breakfast at Bob’s country club. In the background, a speaker saying “Curtis Forsem, you’re on the team” can be heard. While this little bit of humor may not add much to the overall structure, it reinforces the continuing motif and characters’ obsession with being a part of a team.

The development section ties up the loose end of the Inez storyline, too. While she’s been gone for the entirety of the development section, Anthony brings her up to Dignan while scoping out Hinckley Cold Storage, where the mistake is revealed, and it cuts to Anthony calling everyone at the motel until he finally gets through to Inez. This scene is cross cut with Dignan and Mr. Henry chatting about Mr. Henry helping with the heist. Dignan refuses his help, revealing that being a part of the team isn’t enough: he wants to be in charge of the team, to be in the position of respect, to get the respect he’s never received.

Like the first two acts, this section ends not only with a revelation about Dignan, but a piece of music taking over the soundtrack, as Anthony dances to a jazz music in celebration of his success with Inez.

Climax and Epilogue: We did it, though, didn’t we?

The success and happiness of Anthony’s dance is contrasted by a cut to the beginning of the heist, with a dramatic sound effect to emphasize the difference. The team is all in different states: Bob is nervous, Dignan is excited, Anthony seems a bit apathetic, and Kumar and Applejack (two of Mr. Henry’s men) seem like they’re not sure exactly what to do. At one point, Bob and Anthony consider leaving over the walkie-talkies, realizing that neither of them really have much reason to be taking part, but both end up staying when the heist goes massively wrong.

Dignan shows a clear lack of caring about whether or not he goes to jail. When Anthony tries to get him to save himself by retreating to Bob’s, he refuses to leave, instead choosing to stay behind and save the injured Applejack, whom Bob accidentally shot. The way in which he convinces Anthony to let him stay once again betrays that desire for respect and success as a criminal, to be finally taken seriously. However, though he’s able to get Applejack to the car, the police interrupt the scene and chase Dignan throughout the entire warehouse, arresting him.

It’s also revealed at this moment that Mr. Henry truly is an exceptional thief, and not as sympathetic as he appeared during the development. While the team was botching the heist at Hinckley, his own team was cleaning out Bob’s house. This and the chase scene is accompanied by slow motion and an old British pop song, with the song picking up pace around the same time the police begin chasing Dignan around the warehouse.

As Dignan is pushed into the police car with the car door opening, it cuts to another shot of a door opening, this time to months later, showing Anthony and Bob entering the state penitentiary to visit Dignan in prison, beginning the film’s five minute epilogue. Dignan actually seems to be doing very well in prison, seemingly just proud of the fact that they actually went through with the heist, even though it was unsuccessful. He seems somewhat surprised to hear about Bob’s house getting cleaned out. One last minor narrative thread is tied up here: Bob and Future Man have actually been brought closer together by the robbery. Surprisingly, there are no references to “the team” in this epilogue.

Bottle Rocket ends with an entrance, as Dignan is brought from the yard back into his cell, though not without first joking about Anthony and Bob breaking him out. The film refers back to its beginning, with Dignan saying, “Ain’t it funny how you used to be in the nuthouse, now I’m in jail?” In what would become typical of Anderson’s later films, the film ends moving in slow motion to Mark Mothersbaugh’s score.

Three or Four… or Five?

I have divided Bottle Rocket into four acts, based on the most clear turning points of its narrative. However, when one looks at the running times of what I’ve outlined, the films to not fall into the “roughly equal” time lengths of the four act structure (Thompson 36):

Set-up: 23.5 minutes

Complicating Action: 30 Minutes

Development: 19 Minutes

Climax & Epilogue: 15 minutes

There are two possible methods to make up for this disparity in the lengths of the acts. On one hand, one could combine the development, climax and epilogue into one 34-minute long act. This still gives a 10-minute disparity between the lengths of the set-up and the development/climax/epilogue, however, but could be justified on the grounds that the climax of the Anthony/Inez subplot is seen during the development section.

On the other hand, one could make the acts more roughly equal by dividing up the set-up and complicating action a bit differently, turning the film into a five-act structure. If one were to consider the revelation of Dignan’s motives in becoming a thief the first major turning point, the first act ends about 19.5 minutes into the film. The second major turning point would be Bob leaving the team behind at the motel, about 35.5 minutes into the film, creating a second act that is about 16 minutes long. The second half of the complicating action section – from Bob’s departure to the Anthony and Dignans’ fight – would then be about 18 minutes, thus creating a five-act structure in which all the acts are between 15 and 20 minutes long. While the five-act structure is usually reserved for lengthy films nearing three hours in length, it actually fits Bottle Rocket very well.

Perhaps the foremost reason why Bottle Rocket doesn’t fit nicely into Thompson’s four act structure is that none of the film’s major turning points appear at the film’s “mid-point,” which would be close to 43-44 minutes into the film (Thompson 31). The closest turning points would be Bob leaving the motel at 35 minutes and Anthony’s letter to Grace at 53 minutes, both far enough from the actual mid-point to cause imbalance between the lengths of the first two acts and the last two acts, especially when considering the film’s brief running time of about 87.5 minutes. Because of this, I prefer to break the film up into the five act structure.


Sources cited:

Thompson, Kristin. Storytelling in the New Hollywood: Understanding Classical Narrative Technique. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

3D sucks, but Avatar is decent.

I saw Avatar in 3D this weekend, and tried to approach the 3D with an open mind. I've always had a negative inclination about the technology, but the experience turned that inclination into a well-supported opinion. Not only does it not add anything to the theatrical experience, it's an eyesore that detracts from the experience. Why the 3D in Avatar is aesthetically displeasing:

1. Unless an object moves very slowly across the screen, the motion is unrealistically stuttered, almost looking like it's being lit by a strobe light.
2. Shallow focus shots look terrible. As anyone with a background in photography will tell you, the usage of a telephoto lens, which is used to get shallow focus, has a flattening effect on the image it shoots. Cameron still tried to employ 3D on these shots, and they became difficult to look at.
3. Hypersituated objects look silly. In 2D, it's one thing to have a hypersituated object at the edge of a frame get cut off. It's like something just simply isn't in a person's field of vision. But in 3D, it looks like only part of the object even exists, and becomes distracting.
4. The bright spots on screen are simply excruciating. 3D works by focusing the light bouncing off the screen in a specific direction. The low-key scenes in
Avatar have many bright spots coming from the key light on the actors bodies. The light from these bright spots becomes focused on the eyes of the viewer, and if not just causing wincing, could possibly cause eye damage if the viewer is exposed to them for long enough. Of course, I'm not an optometrist so don't take my word for it.
5. The wide angle, slower shots where the 3D itself isn't an eyesore draw a lot of attention to themselves. Since I tend to pay very close attention to the way the film is shot, this actually isn't much of a problem for me, but others who want to focus on the surface aspect of the film - i.e. the story - might be distracted.

All that being said, I found a way to combat the effects of 3D in the theater:

What Bomby will look like in theaters if 3D becomes the standard.

Since I couldn't take nearly 3 hours of aggravated assault on my eyes, I found myself trying to fight back against the screen. First, I tried taking off the glasses. The film was still watchable, though more in that poor-quality-Hong Kong-DVD way. The image was a bit blurry, but was at least more manageable. Then, I simply blinked with one of my eyes, and came to the realization that the 3D only works if I had both my eyes open.

As I mentioned earlier, Avatar is the biggest of the 3D movies thus far, and industry analysts are trying to use the success of the film as proof that 3D is "the future of cinema." The question then becomes: why is Avatar a success?
I would argue that it's mostly out of curiosity for the movie itself, not out of audience "demanding" 3D. Compare Avatar's success to Disney, who have already had a few major disappointments with 3D in the box office returns of A Christmas Carol, G-Force, and Bolt.

Considering the sizable backlash against the 3D and large amount of negative critiques, I'm pretty certain that there's going to be enough skepticism in the public that future 3D films will see diminishing returns, and eventually a repetition of the failures of 3D in the 50's and the 80's. If not, I guess I can always cover one eye.

As far as my thoughts on the movie itself go, I actually rather liked Avatar for what it was. The narrative was a bit predictable and very heavy-handed, but the art direction was appealing, the cinematography gave the actors enough breathing room, and the action sequences were well edited and very entertaining. It's by no means an excellent film, but it was enjoyable commercial fare.

Friday, January 1, 2010

A pointless outdated Kill Bill references post.

All six-and-a-half of you unfortunate souls who stumbled across this blog probably already know that Kill Bill is chock full of references to other works. For the most part, these have been covered by a lot of other blogs, most of them much better and more popular than my pathetic netrag, which means that this post is pretty trite and outdated by now. However, I think I stumbled across a reference that I haven't seen on any other places on the interwebs yet:

Does this seem like a bit of a stretch? Keep in mind that on his commentary for the Rolling Thunder edition of Chungking Express, Tarantino praised Peking Opera Blues. Here's some more crap I found on my free time that other people have probably already found:


Nothing too special here. More than any other movie, Kill Bill of course references Lady Snowblood. Most people have picked up on these two images:

Some things I have not seen get talked about. Take, for instance, this little monolog:
O-Ren Ishii seems to have Meiko Kaji's signature ominous stare:
I might be stretching a bit here, but I think this zoom is worth noting:
This is your typical action film zoom which can be seen in many action films from Japan and Hong Kong, but compare Uma's facial expression to Meiko's in the following sequence:
This is all for educational purposes (save the kids!) so don't sue me. You probably already knew that, but this line makes Blogspot happy.