Sunday, September 6, 2009

Talking Through the Camera

An important divergence between the world of film and the world literature is the use of narrative voice. Its purpose in literature is pretty straight forward: to allow the readers to hear, see, and experience the events unfolding throughout the pages, including the thoughts and emotions of the characters. Narration in film, however, plays a slightly less defined role. Generally speaking, narration in film has not been necessary, as the sound and sights of the film as well as the subtleties of the actor’s movements and expressions accomplish what narration seeks to make clear. There are times, though, when great acting, visuals, and sounds aren’t enough and can’t convey the whole picture that the author or director hopes to get across. Take for example a quote from Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged:

“She felt no anger toward anyone on earth. The things she had endured had now receded into some outer fog, like pain that still exists but has no power to hurt. Those things could not stand in the face of this moment’s reality, the meaning of this day was as brilliantly, violently clear as the splashes of sun on the silver engine, all men had to perceive it now, no one could doubt it and she had no one to hate.” (Rand, Atlas Shrugged)

For me, it is hard to imagine any actor or director of any skill level being able to fully capture the emotion felt by Dagny Taggart at this point in the novel, nor the full gravity of the situation, nor do so quite so poetically. This is where I feel narration can be an excellent tool to film; it allows the audience to fully appreciate the things that cannot be said other than in words.

I’d like to make a distinction before I go on. Narration’s role in film should never be to say the things that the audience can pick up from an actor or the brilliant moves of a director. Narration of this type is somewhat of a cop-out, allowing an easier (and often times more boring) way of getting a point across. Truly good narration should be a supplement to action and direction, not a substitute. It should provide a further sense of what is going on behind and beneath the scene on screen.

The French Film Amélie (Jean-Pierre Jeunet, 2001) makes good use of narration. In this case, the narrative voice is used to further the quirkiness of Amélie’s (Audrey Tautou) character and world. It is delivered in such a way as to mirror the child-like perceptions and mannerisms of the main character. For example, in a scene where the narrator speaks of a fictional man standing in a cellar window whispering witty insults for her to use against the mean-spirited vegetable vendor, narration is used. The narrator doesn’t come out and say, the man in the window is really just in Amélie’s childish imagination, but the way in which he presents the situation allows the audience to deduce as much. In a sense, he is building Amélie’s character. This is precisely the way in which narration should be used—to give the viewer a better sense of a character or situation and clarify aspects of the world being shown.

Walter Benjamin, in his essay The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, claims that the essence of art in the aura it creates. Good film narration, I believe, adds to this aura. When used correctly, it provides an added layer of depth that cannot be reached by acting or direction alone. It allows its audience to gather emotions nuances that were previously available only in novels and text. For this reason, I feel that narration in film can be a huge asset, that is, when it’s done right.

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