Form and Content
Films have form,
and distinguished between content (the subject of a film) and form (how the
content is expressed). A useful way to clarify the distinction is to consider
the difference between a film in which a robbery is taking place and
surveillance footage of an actual robbery. When people (shop owners, police,
reality TV fans, etc.) watch surveillance footage, what they are interested in
is the content – the actual robbery. Obviously the surveillance camera will
have been placed in a prime position in order to see what takes place – it
would be foolish, for example, to point it towards a wall or to place it at
such a low angle as to only capture people’s legs – however, once these limited
choices are made, the camera is, so to speak, left to its own devices. As such,
when we look at the footage of a crime, what we see is a shot from a single
perspective, played out in real time. The footage will have been successful if
it allows us to identify the robbers, unsuccessful if it does not. While we may
feel some excitement when watching such footage, this will come from the
knowledge that we are watching a real crime take place, rather than from the
use of any formal technique.
In contrast, if
you are watching a robbery take place in a film, then the content will be
mediated by a variety of formal elements, chosen by the filmmaker to elicit a
particular effect in the viewer. For example, the filmmaker may intersperse the
robbery with flashbacks or may employ crosscutting in order to convey
additional information. We may know from the outset that the robbery is doomed
to failure or may be unsure of what will happen. A major star may be cast as
the robber, or the detective on his case. The action will be shot from several
different angles, providing us with particular points of view. Potentially
hundreds of shots, of differing lengths, will be employed to establish the
rhythm of the scene. Sound, either cacophonous gunfire or a musical score, will
be used to involve us in the action or heighten the tension. As such, what
distinguishes a film from mere footage is the application of formal principles,
both narrative and stylistic. The filmmaker has a great many choices to make in
terms of the narrative, mise-en-scene, cinematography, sound, and editing of
the film. How these various elements relate and the patterns they create are
known as the film’s form, and this can have a massive impact on the viewer’s
expectations, feelings, and the meaning of the film.
Form and
Expectation
The nature of film
form leads us to expectations that a pattern exists between the various formal
elements. As such, we become caught up in the desire to develop and complete
this pattern. We form expectations about what will happen next, and curiosity
leads us to form expectations about what has happened in the past. Films which
do this especially well explain the phenomena of finding oneself ‘drawn in’ or
‘hooked’ after only a few minutes, despite having potentially seen the film
before. Once we have become engaged with the film, the filmmaker may choose to
gratify or to cheat our expectations: when an expected outcome is delayed we
experience suspense; when an expectation is cheated we experience surprise.
Form and
Convention
Not only are our
expectations derived from cues within a film but also from our prior
experiences. Such conventions may result from our experience of life in
general, films we have seen, or other artworks. For example, the reason that we
expect Dorothy to find her way home in The Wizard of Oz (Fleming, 1939) may be
due to our having been on journeys ourselves, having read Homer’s Odyssey, or
having seen E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial (Spielberg, 1982). If, for example,
E.T. had ended with the death of the eponymous alien or Dorothy had remained in
Oz forever we may have been surprised, and might even have felt cheated. [Note
in the case of E.T. even his subsequent resurrection and being ‘taken-up’ pay
homage to prior conventions.] Some films do, however, break conventions rather
than reinforce them. On such occasions these films can go on to create new
conventions which then furnish future expectations.
Form and Emotion
The fact that we
have expectations will often cause us to make an emotional investment in a
film. Both the emotions represented in a film and the emotional response felt
by a viewer are important in our experience of film. Often the emotions that
are represented in film prompt an identical response in the viewer. For
example, the sporting hero’s ecstasy at accomplishing his goal may lead us to
feel ecstatic or joyful, whereas the babysitter’s horror at learning someone
else is in the house will likely cause us to be afraid. However, this is not
always the case. Our emotional response to a film will depend both on how the
emotions represented in the film are related to other elements, as well as on
our expectations, which are guided both by cues within the film and
conventions. For example, the pain expressed by the grimace on the villain’s
face may lead to an emotion of satisfaction as our expectation that ‘the
bad-guy will get it’ is gratified, or our experience of the conventions of
comedy may prompt us to react with laughter to a situation which, in real life,
we would not. Both how emotions are represented onscreen and our emotional
response to them have formal implications.
Form and Meaning
As active,
intelligent viewers, we look for meaning in films. Such meaning may be of two
main types: explicit and implicit meaning. To say that a meaning is implicit is
to say that it lies beneath the surface. This is the most natural sense of the
term ‘meaning’: it is an interpretation, connection, or inference we make on
the basis of that what we see. What we see on the surface is the explicit meaning
of the film and is probably more likened to a plot summary or basic
description. It is only when we delve beneath, when we view actively, that we
see what is implicit – the deeper meaning. As such, in The Wizard of Oz the
explicit meaning involves a girl’s who dreams of leaving home coming to realise
that there’s no place like home; implicitly, however, the meaning may be more
to do with the transition from childhood to adulthood or may betray political
and economic concerns of the day. Likewise, we might see Haneke’s Hidden (2005)
as an explicit examination of one man’s guilt or as implicitly uncovering
unsavoury incidents in French history. Whatever the supposed implicit meaning
of a film, we must be certain to link it to the film’s formal composition,
otherwise it remains merely supposition. It may well be that even the filmmaker
himself is unaware of implicit meaning on some level: perhaps the film betrays
some unconscious personal issues or cultural prejudices.
Form and
Evaluation
Some people will evaluate
films on the basis of how realistic they are, or on moral criteria, or even on
the basis of their story alone. This is why we may find a great deal of
difference of opinion with regards to the value of any particular film. There
are, however, some standard criteria which, when applied to the film as a
whole, allow for a degree of objectivity in evaluation a film. Thus, we may
consider a film in terms of its coherence or unity; the intensity of effect it
arouses; we may consider its complexity; or its originality. The point of
evaluation is not merely to ‘rate’ films but rather to urge us to acknowledge
them as constructions, perfect or imperfect, original or generic. Such
evaluation should, in turn, inform our understanding and appreciation of the film.
Principles of Film
Form
A useful way to
gain insight into film form and to identify formal elements and patterns within
any particular film is to consider some general principles, which might be
thought to apply to a film’s formal system. These principles, however, are not
hard and fast rules to which filmmakers must comply but rather a matter of
convention. They are: function; similarity and repetition; difference and
variation; development, and; unity or disunity.
Let us consider them in turn.
Function: Firstly,
of any element in a film we can ask, What is its function? What is the element
doing? Both narrative and stylistic elements have functions, which are almost
always multiple: that is to say, each element can be doing many things. One way
to notice the functions of an element is to consider the element’s motivation.
Motivation should not be taken to apply only to reasons for characters’
actions, but to any element in the film that the viewer justifies somehow. For
example, in The Wizard of Oz, Toto motivates Dorothy’s running away from home;
the contrast between rural Kansas and Oz motivates the absence/ presence of
colour; the wicked witch’s movement across the sky might motivate a camera
movement to keep her in frame.
Similarity and
Repetition: Secondly, we are used to regular patterns featuring repetition in
music, poetry, etc. Repetition is essential to film in basic ways: for example,
it allows us to recognise characters, settings, etc. However, we also recognise
more subtle repetitions throughout films: lines of dialogue; specific music;
camera positions; characters’ behaviour; story action; etc. Motif is the term
for any significant repeated element in a film, this could be: an object; a
colour; a place; a person; a sound; a character trait, or; a camera movement.
For example the song, ‘We’re off to see the Wizard…’ acts as a motif in The
Wizard of Oz while Scarface (Hawks, 1932) has an ‘x’ motif – both being
repeated elements within each respective film. Filmmakers also use similarity
to cue us to compare two or more distinct elements – this is known as
parallelism. Motifs can assist in creating parallelism.
Difference and
Variation: Thirdly, although form requires a stable background based on
similarity and repetition, there is also a demand for variety, contrast and
change. Motifs (scenes, settings, objects, stylistic devices) will seldom be
repeated in exactly the same way and, as such, even similarities can lead us to
spot variations. We might, for example, think that it is only our familiarity
with ‘We’re off to see the Wizard…’ which allows us to identify the traits of
each character from their own variation of the song. Differences between
elements can even sharpen into opposition. For example, colour opposition in
The Wizard of Oz contrasts Kansas with Oz, Dorothy with the wicked witch, etc.
All elements in a film can play off one against one another, so that any motif
may be opposed by another motif. We might say that repetition and variation are
two sides of the same coin – to notice one is to notice the other – and we
ought to look for both similarities and differences when thinking about film.
Development:
Fourthly, all films operate by a principle of development. Development depends
not only upon similarity and difference but also on progression. Formal
development is a progression moving from beginning through middle to end. These
developmental patterns are varied and most films are composed of several: e.g.
the mystery; the journey. In our Wizard of Oz example, the basic development is
that of the journey – ABA (in this case Kansas-Oz-Kansas). Often comparison
between the beginning and end of a film will be revealing here. Development is
a dynamic process: constant interplay with similarity and difference, and
repetition and variation, leads the viewer to an active, developing engagement
with the film’s formal system.
Unity/ disunity:
Fifthly, when all of the relationships between elements in a film are clear and
economically interwoven, we say that the film has unity. We call a unified film
tight – every element has a specific set of functions, similarities and
differences are determinable, development is logical, and nothing is
superfluous or ‘left hanging’. Unity does, however, admit of degrees – even a
tight film might contain a few loose elements or unanswered questions (Toto’s
fate is never established; isn’t Ms. Gulch still going to take him away?).
Unity can be used as a criterion of evaluation, however, sometimes disunity
contributes to broader patterns and meanings: consider, for example, the
aforementioned Hidden.
Source: https://filmandphilosophy.com/2015/01/29/the-importance-of-form-introduction-to-film-studies/