The Process of Art, Film-Making, and Intentionality
Without hesitation, tell me what first comes to your mind when I mention…
”Art.”
What did you think of? Was it something professional, like The Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh? Or the Mona Lisa by Leonardo da Vinci? Or something simpler, like a crayon drawing that’s posted on the front of your refrigerator? And did the quotation marks influence what came to mind?
Perhaps you envisioned something different, like the delicious result of a chef’s endeavors, or that one song you put on repeat.
Or if you’re like me, you thought of a movie.
Over the past week, I watched two films, Blood Simple (1985, Dir. Joel Coen & Ethan Coen) and Two Days, One Night (2014, Dir. Luc Dardenne & Jean-Pierre Dardenne). The first was a thrilling tale about four people caught in a web of mysteries and murder as a result of an affair. The latter was an intimate look into how someone struggling from depression and anxiety fights to keep their life in control, aided by those who support them.
Each film could not be any different from one another. The Coen and Dardenne brothers captured two very different points in time, characters, stories, etc. You name it — it’s most likely different.
Despite these differences, these two films stood out to me as equally impressive works of art. I could sense the effort each directing duo put forth into making their film. Each shot and story beat was intentional to drive the plot forward, just like every brush stroke is intentional when crafting a masterpiece. The intentionality that exists at the heart of Blood Simple and Two Days, One Night made each movie unforgettable.
I’d like to begin by discussing Blood Simple.
As I mentioned earlier, the movie features four characters: Julian Marty (Dan Hedaya), Loren Visser (M. Emmet Walsh), Abby (Frances McDormand), and Ray (John Getz). One topic I’d like to bring up is something I read about while doing research for this post after watching the movie.
“…the Coens apparently had Loren drive what I believe is a 1968 Volkswagen Beetle in the film — a peculiar and deeply unlikely choice for a low-rent private investigator and/or hit man in central Texas — because they thought Walsh “looked like a bug.” Now, you can decide that’s Kafkaesque brilliance or you can decide that it drives you crazy because it’s manipulative and implausible. I’m not telling you what to think. But however you read it, the Beetle was an aesthetic choice, made while constructing an elaborate artifice. — Andrew O’Hehir, Salon.com
The Volkswagen Beetle was an intentional choice that the Coen brothers made to characterize their main antagonist. That intentionality can be felt all through-out the movie, which I reason is why watching Blood Simple was such an unforgettable experience for me. It got me thinking about what other intentional choices they made that stuck out to me…
Speaking of characters, there was one other that stuck out to me. I’m not talking about Meurice (Samm-Art Williams). In fact, I’m not even talking about a person.
The other character that caught my eye while watching Blood Simple is none other then Abby’s pearly-white revolver and the three bullets within its chamber.
We first see these items at the beginning of the film, as Abby rifles through a set of bags. The Coen brothers put special effort into making these close-up shots linger. I could hear them whispering into my ear, “hey, there are three bullets and a revolver. Got it?”
By introducing the bullets and the revolver, the Coen brothers make use of a story-telling principle known as “Chekhov’s gun.” Chekhov’s gun states that every aspect of a story is intentional (ring any bells?). So, in this case, a literal…Abby’s gun.
Like any proper Chekhov’s gun, the revolver is properly used throughout the story. Each bullet fired serves the purpose of the story. The first bullet is used by Visser to kill Marty. The second is fired when Ray accidentally kicks the gun in Marty’s office the morning after, as a result of Visser haphazardly throwing the gun onto the floor.
After disposing of Marty, Ray returns to Abby’s apartment, dodging the topic of what actually happened. At the end of their confrontation, Ray sets the gun down on a table. The shot lingers for a few seconds before cutting to a stunned Abby. Yet another detail is added to the work of art that is Blood Simple.
At the end of the movie, we finally see the third bullet used by Abby to defend herself from Visser, who has come to tie up loose ends. Chekhov’s gun has been fired for its final time, but has undoubtedly served its purpose. This revolver has served as a driving force throughout the story, and the Coen brothers made sure every detail about it was documented through the use of close-ups and clever foreshadowing.
The revolver served as an important detail in the finished painting. Blood Simple would be a very different movie if the directors hadn’t included it, and it is so much better with it.
Two Days, One Night is similar in scope to Blood Simple. The story takes place in a small region of Belgium and features a single main character, Sandra (Marion Cotillard). Notable side characters include Sandra’s husband, Manu (Fabrizio Rongione), and her co-worker who fights with Sandra to keep her job, Juliette (Catherine Salée). As I mentioned before, Two Days, One Night tells the story of Sandra coping with anxiety and depression, all while having to fight for herself in order to keep her job. The Dardenne brothers beautifully capture Sandra’s breakdowns in the face of adversity and dismissal.
Take for example this shot in the beginning of the film.
Sandra has just received word of her imminent dismissal at her old factory job. Immediately, we can see the effect this has on Sandra. I’m not talking about her saying “You musn’t cry.”
In this shot, almost all of Sandra’s body is obscured by a decorated refrigerator. Her position in frame is being suffocated, just as her position in work is. The counter-top in front of her looks cluttered, further encapsulating her position in the frame. Finally, the bright blue of her top is muted between the harsh reds of the backsplash and plain whites (almost greys) of the fridge. The Dardenne brothers made an intentional choice in deciding to convey Sandra’s anxiety in this way.
Again, while doing research for this article, I read something by
Sinead McCausland from The Film School Rejects. In their article, titled The Lasting Humanity of ‘Two Days, One Night’”, McCausland notes that
“…the Dardenne brothers make it clear her motivation comes from the feelings the people around Sandra create for her.”
I could not have written it any better myself. One moment in the film made this clear to me, and it is after Sandra breaks down during lunch after suffering two dismissals of her pleas.
In the first shot, during the beginning of her breakdown, the Dardenne brothers have purposely positioned a freight truck to dominate the frame. We see an awkward profile of Sandra as she laments her failed attempts. The mountains in the background cover up the sky. She is not the subject of the shot; the cold, suffocating world is.
However, when Manu comes out to comfort her, the world clears up. The second shot is at the end of the scene, when their heart-to-heart is finished. The camera swings around the end of the truck, framing both Sandra and Manu as the subject. They are evenly lit, along with the rest of the shot. The mountains have lowered and the sky is visibly clearer, just like the situation. Manu has restored faith in Sandra’s plan.
The final shot I’d like to present comes from the end of the movie, after Sandra denied her job and walks away from the opportunity.
We see Sandra slowly walk away from her old job. While she is small in frame, the camera is still and keeps her mostly on a third on the screen. Our eyes are drawn to her, both because of movement and costume.
She is the only object moving in the shot, symbolizing how she has found the resolve to keep on going. Despite her mental health issues, they no longer worry her as she has found the strength to move on. Her world may be still at the moment (the lack of a job, and all), but she won’t let herself be dragged down with it. Her bright pink top stands out among the industrial browns, greens, greys, and blues.
Most important of all however, she is herself. There is nothing to obscure Sandra, and she can live free without the anguish and toxicity of her workplace.
Of course, in real life, mental health issues are rarely ever “solved” after finding an issue to one of your problems. However, in Two Days, One Night, the Dardenne brothers have made it clear that at least this time, Sandra won’t have to worry too much.
From the intentional details of a revolver in Blood Simple, to the almost artistic depictions of Sandra in Two Days, One Night, it becomes clear that films and their directors are art and artists respectively.
I brought up “art” earlier and now in quotations because art can be whatever you feel is… well, art. What is “art” to you can be art to me, or what is art to to you can be “art” to me. Get it? Great.
Nonetheless, the Coen and Dardenne brothers have shown you what their version of art looks like.
And goddamn, is it beautiful.
