Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Three Reasons Why We're Drawn to Faces in Film

U.K. Film colleague, Tim Smith, posted this article on Facebook earlier today. I reposted the article from  I'm a sucker for film theory like this especially when it's in line with my beliefs as well.  There's truth behind the visceral draw of the human face in film.  Such an important part of communication is the undercurrent of emotion that comes out as we broadcast our thoughts and ideas.  Body language, subtle gestures, cadence, intonation; it's how we determine truths and sincerity in a person and ultimately decides if we subconscious decide to listen to what they have to say or not.  It's no wonder that our eyes are drawn to faces moreso than scenery.  It's our subconscious starving for seeking hidden meaning behind messages.  So here's the article in full: 3 Reasons Why We're Drawn to Faces in Film

The power of the human face in film: Up close and personal

Charlotte Rampling 'Swimming Pool' Juliet Binoche 'Three Colors: Blue' 'Diva'
Scenes from 'Swimming Pool' (c. Fidélité 2003), 'Three Colors: Blue' (c. CAB 1993), and 'Diva' (c. Les Films Galaxie 1981).

Look at the array of film frames above – where do you find your gaze lingers the longest?
If we were to measure looking time (for instance, with an eye-tracking device), we would probably find that most people would scan all the pictures, but focus mostly on the frames with the faces.  Even though the exterior shots and full-figure frames are more complex and colorful, our gaze would tend to fix on the faces.

What makes the human face so compelling? 
Even newborns are drawn to faces. In a classic study by Robert Fantz, young infants stared twice as long at a black-and-white simplified human face than black-and-white concentric circles. Even though a bull’s-eye target is particularly eye-catching, babies spent twice as much time gazing at a simplified human face.

The vision of the newborn is sharpest at about 8 inches away—perfect for gazing at a caregiver’s face while feeding. This is an important face to learn by heart, for provision of all the basic needs of life. By around eight months, infants search the faces of those they trust for clues as to whether something new is safe to explore—or a possible threat from which to quickly withdraw (social referencing).
The ability to orient to, and accurately read, human faces has high survival value throughout our lives. We must register quickly if there is a stranger in our midst, and sense if this is a friendly or threatening presence.
In short, we may be hard-wired to focus on faces because they provide information that is fundamentally important to our physical and social survival.

Audrey Tautou in Amélie looking out of the window of a diner
Audrey Tautou in 'Amélie' (c. Fox 2001)

Why are human faces so compelling in film?
Hungarian film theorist Béla Balázs believed that it is the close-up of the human face that distinguishes film from other performance arts, especially theater. Unlike a staged play, the camera can bring us up close to a face—to gaze deep into the eyes and examine every contracted muscle in intimate detail. During a time when the sweeping wide shot was in style, Balázs was instrumental in bringing attention to the power of expression through face and body in film.

close-up Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey in 'It's a Wonderful Life', desperate
Jimmy Stewart in 'It's a Wonderful Life' (c. Liberty Films II, 1946)
  Here, I offer three reasons that we are drawn to the human face in film.

1. Close-ups of faces personify the drama.
We have difficulty computing emotion on a large or abstract scale. The close-up of the distraught face of a single victim helps us to understand the real consequences of a devastating flood or tornado on the nightly news. Balázs writes about how the close-up of the human face captures ‘the very instant in which the general is transformed into the particular’ (p. 260).

close-up of Tom Hanks as Captain Miller in Saving Private Ryan
Tom Hanks as Captain Miller in 'Saving Private Ryan' (c. DreamWorks 1998)
 While wide shots reveal landscape and broader context, close-ups of the face personify and embody the emotional character of the film events on an intimate scale that can move us to the core.

Extreme close-up of Tom Hanks as Captain Miller in Saving Private Ryan
Extreme close-up of Tom Hanks in 'Saving Private Ryan' (c. DreamWorks 1998)

2. Close-ups of faces can elicit our matching emotions.
Humans have a natural tendency to mimic and synchronize emotional facial expressions and postures and other emotional behaviors of people they are interacting with, leading to eventually taking in or ‘catching’ someone else’s intense emotions. Social psychologists call this emotional contagion, the subject of my previous post found here.

Crowd shot in Amélie, people laughing, social contagion
Crowd in 'Amélie' (c. Fox 2001)

Philosopher Amy Coplan and others have proposed that we can ‘catch’ the emotions of a film character through contagion, just as we do in real-world interactions. For instance, in one study when students watched a video of a man recounting a happy or sad story, and were videotaped without their knowledge, their facial expressions mirrored those of the storyteller. While watching a film, you may have caught yourself mimicking expressions of film characters, arching or dropping your eyebrows, grimacing or smiling in the dark!

Audrey Tautou in Amélie watching a movie or film
Audrey Tautou in 'Amélie' (c. Fox 2001)

Psychologist Elaine Hatfield and others have shown that our tendency to mimic emotional gestures of others can eventually lead us to feel the intense emotions of another person.

close-up Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey in 'It's a Wonderful Life', desperate

close-up Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey in 'It's a Wonderful Life', desperate

close-up Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey in 'It's a Wonderful Life', desperate
Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey in 'It's a Wonderful Life' (c. Liberty Films II, 1946)

Film theorist Carl Plantinga goes a step further, proposing that close-ups of the face may provide a route to empathy for the character (not just sensing the same emotions, but experiencing and understanding the feelings of another).

Jessie and Woody in Toy Story 2, Woody showing empathy for Jessie's abandonment
Jessie and Woody in 'Toy Story 2' (c. Walt Disney Pictures presents Pixar Animation Studios 1999)

3. The close-up of a nuanced face is open to interpretation - allowing us to project our own feelings, beliefs, and personal meanings.
Lastly, I suggest that while intense emotions may elicit emotional contagion, more subtle expressions may serve as a canvas for our own projections. These may be influenced by transient states such as mood - and more enduring factors such as our personal histories and associations, our own needs and unresolved conflicts.

Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's looking pensive
Audrey Hepburn in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' (c. Paramount 1961)

The lingering close-up of a face presents only the illusion of being able to read the inner thoughts of another. What we think a film character may be thinking may reveal as much, if not more, about the inner recesses of our own minds.

Faye Wong as Wang Jing-wen and android in 2046, Wong Kar Wai
Faye Wong as Wang Jing-wen in '2046' (Jet Tone Films 2004)
 The Impact of Music
Other emotion-evoking elements of film—especially the presence of music—can shape our interpretations of close-ups of faces with subtle or neutral facial expressions.
Musicologist Berthold Hoeckner and colleagues found that when a film excerpt ending with a close-up reaction shot with a neutral facial expression was paired with thriller (suspenseful) or melodramatic music, college students rated the character as more likeable if they had seen the scene with melodramatic rather than suspenseful music. More interestingly, when presented later with a still image of the face, they recalled the character's emotion to be ‘sad’ if they had seen it with melodramatic music, and ‘angry’ if it had been accompanied by suspenseful music.
In a study my colleagues and I published in 2007, Matt Spackman and Matt Bezdek and I found that music does not even have to be playing at the same time as the close-up of a neutral face, to influence our interpretations of characters’ emotions. We paired film excerpts (shown in the Figure below) with pieces of music that had been reliably judged by a pilot group to convey ‘happiness’ ‘sadness’ ‘anger’ or ‘fear’. In each case, the music was played only at the beginning—during exterior shots, fading at the entry of a full-figure shot of a film character—or only at the very ending of the excerpt, after the character had left the scene.

Even though the music was never played during the close-ups of the faces, the viewers’ interpretation of characters’ emotions tended to migrate toward the emotion expressed by the music.  The most surprising finding was that even music played after the character left the scene still colored viewers’ perceptions of what they had already seen. (We interpreted this as a case of backward priming).
To end with the words from the strongest advocate for close-ups of the face: ‘Good close-ups are lyrical; it is the heart, not the eye that has perceived them’ (Balázs, p. 274).

- by Dr. Siu-Lan Tan, co-author of Psychology of Music: From Sound to Significance (Psychology Press) and co-editor of The Psychology of Music in Multimedia (Oxford University Press).

Related Posts
On face and melody, and emotional contagion:
On how film music shapes the storyline:

The first and last figures appear with permission of University California Press, as this composite was first published in Tan, Spackman, & Bezdek (2007) as listed in below. The actors are Charlotte Rampling in Swimming Pool (c. Fidélité 2003), Juliet Binoche in Three Colors: Blue (c. CAB 1993), and Wilhelmenia Wiggins Fernandez in Diva (c. Les Films Galaxie 1981).

Mrs: Potato Head (outtake):
"... I'm packing you an extra pair of shoes. And your angry eyes, just in case..."
Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head outtake
Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head in outtakes to 'Toy Story 2' (c. Walt Disney Pictures presents Pixar Animation Studios 1999)

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Getting That Next Draft Done

I've been relatively quiet this year on Living In Cine. It's been a busy time for me; starting a new job, working through several personal projects, moving, and just trying to keep up with day-to-day stuff. Part of what I've been working on has been a feature screenplay called Ten Weeks in the Cuckoo Clock that's now in its fourth draft and I've been stuck here for several months. I'm finding as I go through each draft, I set out on a major objective, and try to correct and inject that objective throughout the script. The rough draft was spitting it out on the page. Just saying everything I wanted to say. Draft one was a clean up— a first pass at correcting my sloppy job from the rough draft. Draft two was purging entire scenes that didn't fit, and attempting to fit the structure of draft one into the sort of "Save The Cat" structure as best I could. After plotting the story out on notecards and really identifying the weak areas, I had my objective for draft three: strengthen the characters. Well, everyone was strengthened, except for my main character who still needed more work. And after having several reads from fresh eyes, the general feedback was "love the world you created, now make a protagonist deserving of existing in that world." So I've sat since then, parked on this idea, racking my brain of how to improve the guy. Sometimes, you just have to take a break from your work and give it some time to breath. Hopefully, you'll forget enough so that on the next read through, you'll be reinvigorated to write again. That's what I'm hoping happens with this. I've got a core idea of strengthening the character, but I still fear that he's a weaker character than he could be. So here's to hoping that a spark of inspiration happens and we get through draft four.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

More Love From The Margins

In an article I wrote over a year and a half ago, titled From Margin to Imagination, I discussed my love for the sidebar conversations and notations that come about in used books.  There's a tale that is spawned in my mind every time I come across one.

Apparently J.J. Abrams has a similar love for such things (Bad Robot's headquarters is even labeled on the outside as "The National Typewriter Company").  In his newly-published novel, S.,  The printed story is a mystery complicated further by a more meatier story in the margins between an undergrad and a university-shunned grad student.

Only a quarter of the way through, I can say I've enjoyed the experience, although slightly difficult to sift through if you attempt to follow both stories at the same time, but well worth it once the momentum picks up.

The dual story is shrouded in brilliant packaging and presentation designed to look, smell and feel like an old library book that these two students happen to be sharing.

This is Abrams' love letter to the printed word and truly emphasizes Marshall McLuhan's idea that "The medium is the message."

A trailer was released several months ago for the book, which shows a man washing to shore in an oddly-claustrophobic pool of light on the beach in an otherwise black night.  In Abrams' fashion, there was little explanation for the trailer and left people wondering if it were a new film coming from the Mystery Box team, perhaps even a teaser for the new Star Wars Episode VII.

Later, a little more came out and a more realized trailer was released:

I could see Abrams' S. not being a book for everyone.  Older generations who aren't as conditioned to extreme saccading and multitasking that younger internet-savvy generations are, might find this a difficult read.  With that said, it has been an extremely engaging and unique experience and I look forward to finding more time in the coming weeks to make my way through the rest of the book.

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Channeling Energies of Life Experience and Hobbies Into Creative Efforts

The last few months have been a growth spurt for my creativity. I've been trying out different hobbies to gain some perspective and explore some ideas to apply in my screenwriting. The first of which has been film photography. Of course my wife thinks I'm a hipster at heart, but it's been a truly valuable and relaxing focus of my time; allowing me to unwind from work and really practice a craft.   Luckily, my dad had a 35mm negative scanner that I inherited, so I've only had to pay for the development of the film and nothing more. Here are a few:


 It's been truly wonderful to get back into photography and has reignited my passion for portraiture. There's something indescribably magical about shooting on film and I only wish I had more experience under my belt doing it in film production. Knowing you had a good shot when you took the photo, followed by the waiting for processing and then seeing it for the first time sometimes weeks later is rewarding. Especially when it turns out better than you had hoped. It's about catching that right moment and praying that it turns out. It's wonderful.

Along with that, I've taken up a hobby that my dad taught me when I was little.  I'm talking about whittling. Ever since I got my Blackmagic Cinema Camera, I've had my eye on an Aaton-style wooden hand grip but I just didn't want to spend the $600 that people have been charging for them. So I bought a knife and a block of basswood and got to work.   After a week of working on it in my free time (maybe 15 hours total), I wound up with the the grip I set out to make.  Again, it's been relaxing and almost meditative to craft this ergonomically-molded device by hand. It's something that I'm proud of and will get great use out of, and at least to me, is a beautiful little piece. 

And now, I'm about to embark on an experience in metal detecting, which is something I've always been interested in and finally forced myself to commit to.  From this, the spark of interest in deteching has inspired my next screenplay, which I'm calling "Golden Ghost"; it's There Will Be Blood meets Castaway in a gold rush-era historical fiction film.

The tale is about a man left alone with only his thoughts and dreams of striking it rich as the last remaining citizens of a mining town abandon ship; forcing him to face the possibility of failure and question his sanity in the process as he attempts to find the largest rumored gold deposit in US history.

I think my boon into sort of 'rustic' hobbies has been a backlash of me searching for a creative muse with which to jump into the next draft of my current screenplay, Ten Weeks In The Cuckoo Clock, as well as finding the right idea for my next screenplay, and after several months, I feel asl though I've finally struck on something.

I'm about twenty pages in on this screenplay, and have the rest of the film plotted out on 27 note cards, which describe individual sequences and signposts that occur for the rest of the film.  I took a lead from Vince Gilligan and the rest of the Breaking Bad writing team by framing these note cards as newspaper headlines rather than dry descriptions of characters.   By taking this approach, there's motivation, objective and the enabling of creativity to approach each piece of the film.  Now, I probably should just be focusing on writing, but after penning a very visually-interesting scene, I was inspired to create a rough teaser poster seen above.

I've always heard you can only become a better writer if you first write more, and secondly have something worth writing about.  "Write what you know," they say.  And the only way to write fresh material is to seek out experiences, and "know" more.  I feel as though providing yourself opportunities to have experiences and appreciate the romanticism of life will only help in articulating thoughts and ideas onto the page.