Lecture discussed the background and impact of female directors and characters, specifically in the films Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (Chantal Akerman, 1975) and Morvern Callar (Lynne Ramsay, 2002).
In the reading - an interview with Babette Mangolte, cinematographer of Dielman, she discusses being an outcast because film schools and producers did not allow women to operate the camera. That just made her more motivated to make films and tell stories that were unusual in cinema, and in Dielman, showing the chores and daily routines of the main character, to fight the notion that it wasn't "interesting" and shouldn't be in a film.
An excerpt of an interview with Director Chantal Akerman from The Onion A.V. Club:
AVC: That’s very much the feeling of watching Jeanne Dielman, where the repetitive ritual of her daily chores forges a connection with the viewer that’s practically physical, to the extent that you feel a jolt when she drops the shoe that she’s shining, or lets the potatoes boil over. It’s an effect you can really only achieve with a film of that length.
CA: It is physical, but you know, when I started to shoot Jeanne Dielman, at the beginning, I was not aware of what was going to be the film. Everything was written in the script already, but still. After three or four days, when I saw the first dailies, I realized and I said, “My God, the film is going to be three hours and 20 or 40 minutes long, and it’s going to be developing little by little.” For example, when after she sleeps with the guy for the second time, and you feel something happens, even though the length of the shots is more or less the same as before, certainly there is an acceleration inside the viewer, just because, “Oh, she forgot to put the money there, and then suddenly she doesn’t know what to do.” It’s like the end of her life. She doesn’t leave any room for anxiety. It’s like the workaholic, they do the same. When they stop, they die, because then they have to face something inside of them that they don’t want to face. When she has that, that’s the anxiety. ...I think I am speaking about people. Jeanne Dielman is not special. I can do that with a man, going to work and doing the same thing and being happy because he has the key and he opens the door and then his papers are there and his secretary. Imagine, and then something has changed and he can’t stand it. Because change is dangerous. Change is fear, change is opening the jail. That’s why it is so difficult for yourself to change deeply.
The power of Dielman is the way reality is captured - very long shots with an edit, of what we believe to be routine, things we can relate to, watching in real time. The audience has time to look around the frame and take it in. We look for subtle gestures to define the character, we see the colors and textures of the rooms and clothes and feel the atmosphere of the surroundings. Then, the introduction of something that most of the audience can not relate to, prostitution, is presented in the same mundane way, seeing it in an observational style without commentary - much removed from the Hollywood glitz nonsense of Julia Roberts' Pretty Woman.
The viewer is forced to define themselves in both situations, we know what it feels like to clean, we see ourselves or a friend or family member. But then the usual harsh judgement of a cliche - a prostitute - is completely reframed inside the film's reality. What would we do in the same situation, since much of it is relatable – do we think we are better than this person? Do we want to be this person? Do we know this person? Akerman does not pass a judgement, rather, she was exploring he own interest in the "jails" we put ourselves in, and the power of change, if it ever comes.
Lynne Ramsay, the director of Morvern Callar, is also interested in telling stories with gestures and portraying women onscreen in a non-cliche, more humanist tone, influenced by early work in still photography. With her first three short films and her first feature, Ratcatcher, she worked with both pro and non-professional actors, and rejected traditional style dialogue. Excerpt of an interview with BFI:
"I love to see great dialogue in the cinema but I hate to see "Film TV". When I go to the cinema, I want to have a cinematic experience. Some people ignore the sound and you end up seeing something you might see on television and it doesn't explore the form.
Sound is the other picture. When you show people a rough cut without the sound mix they are often really surprised. Sound creates a completely new world. With dialogue, people say a lot of things they don't mean. I like dialogue when it's used in a way when the body language says the complete opposite. But I love great dialogue... I think expositional dialogue is quite crass and not like real life.
I enjoy the detail, and maybe that comes from being a photographer. Sometimes people's body language can say everything about what they do, even if they're trying to put on a pose."
Ramsay is interested in seeing a character that is unusual in film:
"I liked this idea of a female wanderer; you don't get many female characters like that. In some way she felt like one of those intriguing characters in a western where you don't get to the bottom of that sorrow - John Wayne or something! There's a kind of void in some young people's lives, even the drug taking is hedonistic, not political, it's not "Peace and Love". It's the hard facts of money buying you freedom and she's quite a hard character in that way, but nevertheless, I think you can identify with her. That was a real balancing act and some people think she's too cold, but that's fine."
“Movies as Politics” Jonathan Rosenbaum (pgs 208-212)
Cinemad interview with Babette Mangolte
