Kali Spencer
Richard Simpson
ENGL 342
09/01/20
On Editing
While reading “On Editing” (1926) by Vsevolod Pudovkin I was struck by the importance of, and impact that editing can have on the overall outcome of a film. Early on in the reading, one of the sentiments that stuck with me was the idea that “the scenarist must be able to write his material on the paper exactly as it will appear upon the screen, thus giving exactly the content of each shot as well as its position in the sequence” (p. 6). I drew parallels between this and another art form: sculpting. Particularly, Constantin Brancusi, who went as far as to take up photography in an attempt to ensure that his work was presented the way that he intended it to be viewed. While some in the art community have condemned this behavior, calling it neurotic and controlling, I see it rather as a dedication to producing art that is intentional.
This comparison can be drawn out further as Pudovkin goes on to describe the different editing techniques. It becomes quite clear in his descriptions of scenes that can make an audience member’s heart race just through the use of building tension when switching to different locations in a scene that the editing technique used is often a purposeful and deliberate attempt to guide the viewer. If done right, the scenarist can begin to evoke and convey certain emotions within a viewer. Just as the lighting surrounding a sculpture and its placement in a gallery is important to convey the intent of a sculptor and what their work represents, editing is crucial and of paramount importance to scenarists.
As someone who has never put much thought into the ways that the films I watch are constructed, this passage was cardinal to the way that I have now come to understand editing. In reading about the techniques used by scenarists, I can now reflect on the times I have seen them used in the past and the unconscious effect they may have had on me. Through this, I hope to become a more thoughtful and intentioned viewer. Just like the Möbius strip, the inside and the outside are sometimes the same and with this newfound knowledge, I hope to gain a better understanding of the way films watch me and aim to play off of my own emotions in order to enhance my viewing experience. Acknowledging this, I am still left with the question of how much of art and its interpretation are left up to the audience.
I could relate to what you were saying so well! Just from these few readings I have been able to think about previous films I've watched and comprehend the techniques used to make me feel and understand scenes. I too hope to be a more conscious viewer and find meanings in the interpretations of filmmakers and editors.
ReplyDeleteI also really enjoyed your example of sculpting and how the techniques of film making can be paralleled to so many other forms of art. In my response I likened the techniques of film to those of writing, but it's evident that all forms of art go through some process of editing before being placed before an audience.
These comparisons are really great. They remind me of Eisenstein's comparisons between film, kabuki theatre, and hieroglyphics. I found it pretty amusing toward the end of his chapter, Beyond the Shot, when he railed against the use of slow-motion as a cheap visual effect in films produced in the US.
ReplyDeleteVery interesting comparison to sculpture here, Kali, and the connection allows us to think about film as a spatial form, which is exactly what Pudovkin and Eisenstein are suggesting. And yes paying attention to the way in which the audience is "instructed" by the film form is very much the line of thought we want to pursue in the history of film. In learning these techniques we become aware of how such practices effect us, and that makes us stronger critics as well as practitioners. This is perhaps another one of the many meanings of the title of Eisenstein's essay "Beyond the Shot."
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