Film Analysis: Barton Fink

In the Joel and Ethan Coen directed feature film, Barton Fink (1991), Barton Fink (John Turturro) exclaims that in the “life of the mind; there’s no road map for that territory.” This introspective idea runs concurrent with Barton’s struggle to control his withering mind. Barton’s decaying mind is a result of it playing host to his personal battle between two opposing yet symbiotic forces innate within the human psychosis; the unconscious and conscious minds. This mental hell that Barton goes through serves as an introspective odyssey in which he is able to “dredge up something inside”, in order to see “the life of the mind.”

A paroxysmal shot of a wave violently crashing against a lonely boulder affixed to the sand marks the beginning of Barton Fink’s stay at the Hotel Earle. This seemingly arbitrary shot serves as the overarching representation of Barton’s conflicted mind. The boulder is shaped in the same vein as an iceberg. The iconography of Sigmund Freud’s mental iceberg metaphor becomes immediate when put contextually to the shots. The violent crashing waves, which represent the unconscious, attempt to submerge the conscious and seeable “tip of the iceberg”.

The shot of the half-submerged boulder is shown twice as book ends to Barton’s mental struggle. The first shot is taken as sudden and random because of the lack of context. The shot lingers in the air, but as the Barton’s trail by fire comes to its conclusion the metaphor has a solidified host to cling to. Barton’s struggle between his two competing states of consciousness, effectively materialize the mental iceberg metaphor projecting as the lonely boulder on the beach.

The Hotel Earle is a mystical place that reproduces the thoughts of Barton Fink into a physical and audible form, much like how Solaris in Andrei Tarkovsky’s Solaris (1972) reproduced the thoughts of its visitors. Barton Fink’s desires and wishes manifest into an audible forms throughout the film. During his second day in his isolated room at the Earl Hotel, Barton is unable to effectively write his wrestling picture. “Audible” off-screen sounds resonating from the adjacent hotel room gives Barton an excuse to be distracted from his handed task. Barton approaches the issue with caution because of the uncertain tone of the sounds; it is never known if it was the sound of someone crying or laughing.

During Barton’s first encounter with Audrey Taylor (Judy Davis), Barton shows signs of instant attraction to Audrey. He confides her and asks her to call him casually as Barton rather than by his formal surname. He also offers to get a bite with her, but the intimate nature of the offer is rejected. Back at the Hotel Earle, Barton hears erotic sounds of a couple sexing next door to his flat. His interest in the sound piques his interest and he, subsequently, puts his head against the wall. The sounds are a manifestation of Barton’s inner desire for Audrey Taylor. Yet the sounds emitting from the wall are ambiguous; is the woman being hurt or pleasured? The ambiguity brings rise to what Barton’s own sexuality is. Barton keeps his ear to the wall, but finds his typewriter calling him back to his seat.

The sexual acts are hidden behind the walls of Barton’s unconscious mind. Barton discloses that he has no sweetheart and that his work leaves little attention that he can give to a lover. His typewriter pulls him from his desires and thus his sexual desires are repressed into his unconscious mind. The sounds emitting from unseen origins are the fleeting vestiges of Barton’s unconscious desires and wishes. His work is more important than his need to remedy his loneliness.

Barton’s complaint about the noise next store leads to a confrontation between him and the liaison of his unconscious mind, Charlie Meadows (John Goodman). Charlie is a replication of Barton Fink’s immediate thoughts of what a wrestler is to him. Charlie is physically “well endowed”, a common man, and shows signs of humanity through struggle. Their connection as divisible, yet symbiotic entities is exemplified during the scene in which they exchange their respective shoes to one another. Their different shoe sizes show their differences, but their mannerisms in how they put on their shoes is identical. They put on their shoes one at a time in an identical fashion. Additionally, their personal lives are identical. Barton and Charlie are both single and, for Barton eventually, have no family. They are one in the same, but represent the conscious and unconscious respectively.

Barton’s flamboyant tendencies and gestures radiate through his work and life. During is first appointment at Capitol Pictures, studio executive Jack Lipnick (Michael Lerner) comments that one of his colleges described Barton’s play as a “little fruity”. Barton is also chastised as a homosexual by detectives Mastrionotti (Richard Portnow) and Deutsch (Christopher Murney) as they accuse him of having a sexual relationship with Charlie. While the outside world ridicules Barton for his colorful gestures, Charlie (the unconscious) welcomes it. The sequence in which Charlie wrestles Barton to the ground is shot at suggestive angles connoting a homo-erotic engagement. Charlie who is on all fours eggs Barton on with a welcoming smile.

The pressures of the outside world to conform are too much for Barton, who subsequently finds comfort by repressing his unconscious homosexuality with a façade of heterosexuality by making love to Audrey. The sounds resulting from it flow into the pipes of the unconscious gutter in which the omniscient Charlie can hear all. The sounds of tender kissing turn into high pitched screams. Barton’s unconscious is being repressed and so Charlie takes measures to repress his heterosexual conscious state by murdering Audrey. Barton is not heterosexual by any means, but is instead torn between loving himself through Charlie, and loving others.

The bipolarization of Barton brings into question Barton’s true self. Barton self-righteously purports that he is a writer for the “common man”. He is a creator and his mind is his uniform. While, Barton might write for the common man, he does not listen to them. During various encounters with Charlie, Barton cuts Charlie off right before he discloses one of his stories. Barton disregards Charlie’s stories because he is confident that he already knows what the strife of the common man is without experiencing it. Barton’s work is a vicarious affair. He wears the shoes of other common men (the shoes without owners lining up in the hallway), but the essence is just as “phony as a three dollar bill.”

After days of mental exhaustion and the departure of Charlie, Barton finally writes and completes his play. To celebrate this momentous occasion, Barton goes to a USO party. After having his share of a dance with a dame he denies a sailor shipping off to war a dance with the woman. Barton puts himself on to a Christ-like pedestal and proclaims that he is a writer and a creator. There is an underlying connotation during Barton’s wild proclamation. He sees himself as the creator and voice of the common man, but in fact is a disillusioned betrayer of them. Barton sees himself as a higher being than the common man. He exclaims that the completion of his work is far more important than the struggle the common man would face in World War 2.

The truth eventually hits Barton like a bullet to the chest. Barton’s inner pain, which he dredges up within, is the truth which is disclosed to him by Charlie who puts Barton in his place. Charlie explains to Barton that he isn’t a common man; rather he is just a “tourist with a typewriter.” Barton doesn’t know what pain is because he hasn’t experienced hell. How could Barton live in a common man’s world when he complains about something as little as a sound coming from next door?

While running down a detective with a shotgun, Charlie screams to Barton to “Look upon me! I’ll show you the life of the mind!” The life of the mind has no road map, but the inward travel can be hell. Charlie asserts himself ironically as a man who brings who brings peace of mind to people, but is shown as bringing chaos. In fact, in the end Charlie brings peace to Barton by giving him the truth. Barton’s battle with himself comes to a close as the truth of who he is revealed. He no longer has to prove to himself or to others who he is. He ends up on a serene beach looking at a beautiful woman, content with himself; the journey has ended. The life of the mind is an odyssey of self-revelation.

Film Analysis: Stagecoach

Between the late-1920s and the mid-1940s America underwent major economic and social change. The close proximity of adverse events such as the Great Depression and WWII took a toll on the American economy and what resulted was a paradigm shift in American economic policy and concepts. Additionally, the distressed economy led to major social changes and upheavals. Combined with the intensifying situation abroad in the Orient and in Europe, America became increasingly isolated and xenophobic. American sentiment was battered and confidence in a nation with “streets paved with gold” had become illusory.

Hollywood was left to pick up the shattered pieces of American morale and was able to successfully glue them back together with uplifting films. Shirley Temple became the darling of the world as she won the hearts of millions by instilling optimism back into the population. While, many Hollywood film ventures at the time were made for whimsy, some films, specifically in the Western genre, reflected the times. Western genre pieces, such as John Fords’ Stagecoach (1939), exemplify the mirror effect that some films had during those decades.

Stagecoach incorporates numerous traditional conventions and codes of the Western genre, but also defies many of them. Stagecoach’s use of subversive codes is a direct result of the Depression Era, although some generic Western conventions are kept in order raise the morale of the American people.

Seven strangers board a stagecoach bound to Lordsburg, New Mexico. Each one is either running away from their past or trying to catch up with it. The plot is cleverly designed to incorporate multiple characters that live within different castes, subsequently making the stagecoach itself a microcosm of the bygone era. The strangers in the stagecoach represent a thin vertical slice of the Depression Era social aristocracy; from the bourgeoisie to the pariahs and everything in-between. Samuel Peacock (Donald Meek) and Henry Gatewood (Berton Churchill) form the rich elites, Dallas (Claire Trevor) and The Ringo Kid (John Wayne) serve as pariahs, and the remainder of the characters represent the rest of the social caste system.

Placing the main protagonist ,Ringo, as a poor outcast with nothing but “half a ranch house” defies Western genre conventions of having the protagonist be a wealthy saint and widely accepted hero i.e. Mark Of Zorro (1920) and Cimarron (1931). Ringo is the product of a dire tenuous environment and as is the film's audience that he relates to. Ringo is the hero representing the poor and seemingly forgotten commoners of the era. This connotes that the real heroes are actually the ones making ends meet rather than the rich playing Robin Hood. This subversive choice was consciously made with the introduction of the elitist banker Henry Gatewood.

One of the reasons the Great Depression occurred was because of undisciplined spending and lucrative investing by banks and corporations. By the time the depression was in full effect the general sentiment the public had towards big business was distrust. Governmental regulation of businesses and the nationalization of banks were called for and consequently put into effect through the socialistic New Deal acts between 1933 and 1936. These acts started the long economic recovery.

The people of the Depression Era had created a derogatory caricature of the rich by naming them “fat cats”. Mr. Gatewood is a direct reflection of the negative sentiment the people had towards businessmen. Mr. Gatewood is the antithesis of Ringo ; he is bloated, self-righteous and inconsiderate. He steals $50,000 from the town bank and complains that the trip is being delayed because of Lucy Mallory’s (Louise Platt) illness. Additionally, as the stagecoach starts its trek across Monument Valley, Mr. Gatewood self-righteously explains that “the government is attacking banks and raising taxes; America for Americans.” Mr. Gatewood’s proposal is a farce. The contemporary audience would recognize that such capitalistic ideals and laissez-fare attitudes didn't necessarily work. By 1939 the socialistic New Deal plans had created millions of new jobs and had jump started the economy. Assurances are made at the end of the film when Mr. Gatewood is arrested by public authorities for his corrupt practices. This generic ‘justice is served’ ending comforts the audience as it shows that the government will ,confidently, set right all wrongs.

Another subversive element is the rejection of a damsel in distress. Dallas is able to stand on her own, but has become a “victim of social prejudice” because of her occupation as a prostitute. Conversely, Lucy Mallory is the damsel in distress, yet is fully accepted by society. In one scene where the stagecoach passengers take a vote on whether to continue their trek, Marshall Curly Wilcox (George Bancroft) politely asks the lady, Mrs. Mallory, first only to completely ignore Dallas. It isn’t until Ringo steps in that Dallas gets a voice in the matter. Mrs. Mallory is treated as a lady, while Dallas is treated as a secondhand citizen.

Even though Mrs. Mallory receives the benefits of being socially accepted, characteristically she is portrayed in a negative light. She is delusional and emotionally weak. Mrs. Mallory is unable to remain strong as she hears the death of her husband and in the later chase scene with the Indians she compliantly sits her head against the wall of the stagecoach amid a rain of gun fire. She doesn’t even protect her own child during the event.

Dallas, on the other hand, is portrayed in a positive light. The scene where Dallas nurses Mrs. Mallory at her bedside, amplifies Dallas’ caring and selfless characterization. Additionally, during the chase scene, Dallas clutches Ms. Malloy’s baby, protecting the baby from gun fire with her own body.

Contextually, the rejection of the damsel in distress maybe in part be the result of the prostitution boom enforced by poverty during the 1930s. Women were forced into prostitution because of financial troubles as a consequence of the Great Depression. While this circumstance was unfortunate, many women became financially independent because of the venture. Dallas represents the strong independent women of the day.

While Stagecoach is groundbreaking for undermining traditional Western codes, the film does in some instances use some generic conventions. The standard savage caricatures of Indians and the generic portrayal of courageous U.S. soldiers show how Stagecoach demonstrates certain platitudes. The clichés are used to instill optimism into the disheartened people of the time.

Anti-Japanese sentiment became prevalent in the United States in the late 1930s because of the illicit acts of violence performed by the Japanese during the controversial invasion of China (1931) and the subsequent Nanking Massacre (1937). Because of these events and American propaganda, the American people saw the Japanese as godless and savage.

In Stagecoach, Native Americans are generically portrayed as one-dimensional and savage. Non-diegetic music of battle drums erupt every time the Indians are presented. Furthermore, they are not to b3e trusted as demonstrated when the Apache wife of the Mexican reservation owner steals the replacement horses for the stagecoach.

Stagecoach creates an association between the Native Americans and the Japanese through their common perception of savagery. The film is contextual to the events of the Depression Era and becomes representational of the situation at hand. As the stagecoach comes under fire from the Indians, the passengers whom have had disagreements before, bond together against a common foe. This message is relayed to the audience and connotes the popular saying “united we stand, divided we fall.”
As the stagecoach passengers get down to their final bullets all seems lost. That is until a conventional rescue by the United States cavalry fends off the attacking Apache Indians. Their intimidating numbers and drawn swords, maintained by an uplifting trumpet horn gives a sense of excitement and assurance. This guarantees the audience that America was ready to fight in the looming European and Pacific war and that one should be “proud to see such fine young men in the U.S. Army” The typical convention was used to uplift American sentiment in an era of great tension.

Western genre films for a time were stereotyped as simplistic morality tales and entertainment fluff. Stagecoach is one of the innovative western films that took ambitious steps to elevate itself above the mold. It undermined certain traditional rules such as the damsel in distress, but still relied on some Western clichés. Whether the decisions made in Stagecoach were conventional or subversive, they were influenced by the events and sentiments of the 1930s. Stagecoach is a fine example of how a film can become iconoclastic, but it is also is a testament that genre pieces do not need to be locked into traditional conventions in order to satisfy its precedents and its audience.

Film Analysis: Blood Simple

The modern tag arguably associated with pessimists is the saying, “things will get worse before they get better”. The tag connotes certain conditions man has over his own life, but it still reserves that he has some level of free will; there is still the choice of betterment through trial by fire. Joel and Ethan Coen adapt the motto with a fatalistic approach; “things will always get worse”. In their debut feature film, Blood Simple, the Coen brothers streamline the theme with the coined term “blood simple”, which stipulates that when people become immersed in violence they regress into idiocy. The colliding ideas create the effective theme that underlines Blood Simple. The subjects of “blood simple”, the idea that things will always get worse, and the illusion of free will act as regressive steps on a spiral staircase that embodies the omnipresent theme; when one experiences “blood simple” things will fatefully get worse.

Ray (John Getz) finds bar owner, Julian Marty (Dan Hedaya), lifeless on a chair after closing hours. As Ray cautiously approaches Marty, Ray’s foot ironically fires an abandoned gun on the ground. This marks Ray’s figurative killing of Marty and the commencement of Ray’s “blood simple”.

The Coen brothers create an ironic bipolarization between the action on screen and the pacing of the film. The directors deliberately make Marty’s fifteen minute death sequence methodical and slow pace by using long takes, diegetic sounds, and ample visual coverage. Ray, who isn’t as meticulous as the film itself, sloppily wipes Marty’s blood with a windbreaker creating a bigger mess. The second time around, Ray attempts to clean the mess he made but to no avail as a stripe of blood falls unnoticed from his blood soaked towel. Even at the film’s slow and methodical pace, Ray still manages to mess up and regress into idiocy. It is as if the film’s slow pace is giving Ray all the time in the world to clean the mess properly, yet Ray has become too inefficient and sloppy to take advantage of the benefit.

Ray’s regression into idiocy because of “blood simple” is further emphasized as he discloses, after the ordeal, that he had once been in the military service. His seemingly military indoctrinated stolidity, which is highlighted in the beginning of the film, degenerates into cowardice and foolishness. As a military alumnus that had probably been trained in the art of killing, Ray, through multiple failed attempts, is cowardly unable to kill Marty. Instead Ray buries Marty which makes the soil a faux buffer between him and Marty; Ray didn’t kill Marty, the soil that Ray through onto him did. Addtionally, Ray foolishly buries Marty in a farm that will surely be plowed and even forgets that Marty has the six-shooter in his possession. Ray’s drunkard –like mannerisms exemplify the effect that “blood simple” has on a person.

The fifteen minute death sequence also exemplifies the idea that things can only get worse. As Ray cleans up the bloody mess at the bar and attempts to displace the body, he assumes that Marty is dead. The present state of affairs is understandably dire, yet things still get worse. The situation is further mired for Ray once he realizes that Marty is actually still alive. Ray violently stops the car and bolts out onto a naked field. Ray looks back at his car with disbelief and fear. Ray’s responsibilities have now doubled; he has to murder Marty and rid the evidence. Ray reluctantly and carelessly follows suite. After Marty is buried three feet under, the sun reveals to Ray that he had disposed a dead body meters away from a farm house. Ray looks at the house with weariness and becomes content with fate’s black humor. He realizes that the corpse will most likely be unearthed and that he will need to move far away which brings up numerous logistical problems and responsibilities. As a consequence of the many fateful and unexpected problems, Ray accumulates more unwanted responsibilities. This, coinciding with the “blood simple” that is deteriorating Ray’s better judgment, creates a dismal imbalance that results in an ever worsening situation for him.

The idea that things can only get worse connotes that man does not have control over his own life, thus there is no escape from destiny. In a fairly early sequence when Abby (Frances McDormand) is staying at Ray’s for the first time, the Coen brothers edit the film in such a way where by Abby, Ray, and Marty all gaze at their own respective ceilings at the same time as if praying to God in unison (ironically they live in the dubbed godless West). They’re all looking for an escape from their problems. Abby is looking for an escape from Marty, Ray is looking for an escape from his loneliness, and Marty is looking for an escape from his irritating jealousy. They are all given their respective answers from the seemingly indifferent ceiling and each character acts on its proposals. Abby sleeps with Ray, Ray accepts Abby, and Marty goes to Ray’s house to violently purge his irritation by hurting Abby. The ceiling never provides real answers though, only illusions of free will to the naïve. Each character thinks they are controlling their own lives by escaping a dire fate, but in actuality they are only speeding up the process.

When the characters aren’t looking, the ceiling devilishly changes forms. When Marty reaches into the safe to grab Loren Vicer’s (M. Emmet Walsh) money for allegedly completing the hit on Ray and Abby, the ceiling is prominently shown above Marty’s head. The shadows of bars flooded in red light stretch across the ceiling. A similar up-angle shot is used when Ray enters the back room to find Marty dead with the ceiling having the same description. Ray and Marty respectively think that their plans had allowed them to escape their fate, but the ceiling creates a cage around the characters suggesting that they cannot escape it. The red light also suggesting that a fateful death will occur within these inescapable cages.

The ceiling fan also outlines the cyclical and repetitious mobility of the characters. The characters will always end up where they started as the spinning fan exemplifies. The fan lazily cuts through the air creating a slow repetitious staccato which is a repeated in the form of the windshield wipers in the beginning of the film to the paroxysmal gun shots Loren Viscer fires through the wall at the end of the film.

The repetition signifies that events will be repeated. The windshield wipers thump against the car right before Abby and Ray have sex at a motel; the same sound is repeated by the ceiling fan at Ray’s house right before Abby and Ray sleep together again the following night. Moreover, each time Marty is figuratively and literally killed, staccato thumps of varying intensities are attributed to each respective scene. The sound of the ceiling fan cutting through the air when Viscer and Ray kill Marty turn in intense staccatos of bullet fire preceding Abby’s slaying of, who she thinks is, Marty at the end of Blood Simple. Since there is repetition, there is precognition which undermines the idea of free will; the characters in the film are bound to their fates.

A prominent theme in Blood Simple is that things will fatefully get worse through “blood simple”. From the subjects of “blood simple” to the illusion of free will, Blood Simple takes multiple ideas and converges them into one cohesive theme. Some criticize that Joel and Ethan Coen purport themes that are insincere and pointless. For Blood Simple the opposite is true in that the theme’s purpose is to prove a larger existential point; the idea of free will within a film is impossible because character’s choices are already predetermined and dictated by the god like director.

Film Analysis: The Shining

In the horror film, The Shining, Stanley Kubrick distorts time through thematic and stylistic motifs. Jack Torrance (Jack Nicholson) and his family, Wendy (Shelly Duvall) and Danny (Danny Lloyd), are sent to maintain the Overlook Hotel over the harsh winter months. As time becomes more abstract, paranormal events within the hotel gradually develop. Through the use of time cards and body language Kubrick distorts time that ultimately serves to explain the uncanny ending.

Kubrick uses time cards to separate the scenes in The Shining, but also to distort time. At first the time cards are extremely specific (“The Interview”), but later, the time cards become broad (“Tuesday”). Which Tuesday in which month is never explained or developed and is deliberately left ambiguous. The more and more time broadens, paranormal happenings increasingly occur. As time broadens, so does the scope of the Overlook Hotel’s history. The Overlook becomes the centripetal of the past (the Grady family) and the present (the Torrance family). This allows Grady and Jack to meet.

As Jack submits to the will of the sadistic hotel, he is formally encountered by Delbert Grady (Philip Stone) in a minimalist bathroom. Jack is hesitant and cautious as he asks Grady if he “was once the caretaker here”. Grady disagrees and explains that to Jack that “you are the caretaker. You have always been the caretaker.” Time freezes as the two stare at each other; their bodies stiff and paralyzed. Time has frozen so that the torch can be past from Grady to Jack. Jack is given his instructions and “responsibilities to his employers (the Hotel)” to carry on the legacy by killing his family.

The frozen body language is repeated again at the end of the film. Jack chases Danny with an axe in the garden maze during a violent blizzard. Jack eventually loses track of Danny and is engulfed in the onslaught of snow. Jack dies and the next day is found literally frozen in place underneath a bevy of snow. His eyes are rolled up and his face is stiff as a board. This shot is juxtaposed with a truck-in shot of an uncanny photo taken of Jack at a 1921 party. As Delbert explains, Jack has always been in the Overlook Hotel. Jack had lived in the 1920’s, died in the 1920’s and reborn again in the present to continue the legacy, but the reincarnated Jack had failed in his duties to kill his family. As punishment Jack and his legacy are now frozen in time in a picture. A snap shot of Jack is all that remains; a frozen vestige of what once was.

Stanley Kubrick distorts time in The Shining by using elements such as the time cards and body language. From the gradual broadness of the time cards to the stiff body language of Jack, time is left ambiguous in order to converge the past and present. Ironically the ambiguity of time serves to develop a specific plot. It is in the subtleties in the film that must be found in order to make sense of The Shining and all Kubrick is asking is a moment of the audience’s time to make these resolutions.