Michael Shannon in the opening scene of 99 Homes.
NOTE: This was an assignment for my Intro to Film & Screen Studies course, where we had to analyze a scene and state its effect, using descriptions of sound, mise-en-scene, and camera angles. I chose Ramin Bahrani's 99 Homes - which currently serves as my favorite film of 2015 - and its fantastic opening scene.
[....]
Ramin Bahrani’s 99 Homes, just released in theaters,
concerns a young man named Dennis Nash (Andrew Garfield), who has just been
evicted from his family home along with his mother and son by a real estate
mogul named Rick Carver (Michael Shannon). In order to get the necessary funds
to make ends meet, and eventually buy the home back, Dennis begins working for
Carver as a handyman and eventually climbs the ranks as a deceptive Realtor and
Carver’s prodigy.
The
opening scene of 99 Homes sets the
tone for the entire film, assuming a bleak and constantly unsettling tone.
Bahrani employs a long take here, the longest of the entire film, lasting for
about two minutes, giving us an uninterrupted look at Carver, his business, his
daily tribulations, and, most importantly, his unbridled cynicism.
The
opening shot is in a bathroom, where the camera positions itself between the
sink and the toilet, so we can see the legs of a man sitting on the toilet,
with blood splattered all over the wall from a presumably self-inflicted
gunshot wound, and the toiletries that litter the marble countertop. Bahrani’s
camera doesn’t focus on the man’s legs for more than two seconds before it
pulls a tricky pan to the left and upwards one-hundred and eighty degrees to
show a bust-shot of Rick Carver’s expressionless face as he observes the ugly
scene bathroom. During this time, suspenseful synthesizers cloud the audiotrack
so that no diegetic sounds can be heard on-screen; everything, for these few
seconds, is asynchronous. The music is subtle and functions with the events of
the film in such a germane fashion that you forget your emotions are attempting
to be manipulated.
After
a few seconds, Carver gets a phone call and turns his back to the camera and
walks further in the background of the scene, turning an intimate bust shot
into an impersonal medium shot of Carver’s back, in a move ushering nothing but
coldness to the audience. With that, the synthesizers minimize themselves
ever-so slightly so we can hear the conversation Carver is currently having
whilst maintaining that level of suspense thanks to the score. After a few more
seconds, Bahrani and his camera become mobile, as Carver turns back towards the
camera and walks out of the room, returning to a bust shot of him with the
police investigator following him, cut off at the chest. The sturdiness of
Bahrani’s camera during this scene suggests the experienced use of a
steady-cam, for a dolly would never be able to move so fluidly through the
tight doorways of a conventional middle class home. During this time, the music
maintains a more minimized but present inclusion in the audiotrack as Carver
continues to talk on his cell phone.
Bahrani’s
camera finally stops for a moment in the frontroom of the home, where a
long-medium shot is employed, capturing Carver down to his kneecaps and the
investigator down to his ankles in the frame. Bahrani pauses for about fifteen
seconds as Carver hangs up and begins speaking smugly to the investigator
before him and his camera turn mobile again as he follows Carver out the door. The
music is now about equal in prominence as is the dialog of the characters and
this level will be maintained throughout the entire scene. Again, as Carver and
the investigator walk outside the home, Bahrani does another tricky, one-eighty
pan to the left so that we now see the backsides of both Carver and the
investigator when they walk outside. Bahrani finally pauses once more when
Carver stops and turns his back to the investigator to talk, reinstating a
long-shot so we can see the full body of Carver over the investigator’s
shoulder.
The
scene concludes with Carver addressing the investigator in this
over-the-shoulder shot, cutting off Carver at the kneecaps again. During this
scene, Bahrani slowly zooms in on Carver, forming yet another bust-shot to get
the fury and unrelenting coldness of Carver’s face as he boldly addresses the
suicide in a disrespectful, caustic manner. Finally, Carver turns around to
walk curbside to sit in his vehicle, as Bahrani films his back towards the
camera as he walks away from the home. Once again, the camera shifts from
Carver’s back, this time to his right-side as Carver opens the door of his
vehicle and takes a seat. Two officers enter the frame from the right-hand
side, cut off just below their waists in another medium shot, as they speak to
Carver briefly while he sits in the vehicle. Once they exit the scene, Bahrani’s
camera zooms into Carver’s car window, forming a close-up, as Carver’s eyes
quickly deviate from his dashboard to his windshield. Right here, Bahrani cuts
for the first time in the film to a long shot, showing the front yard of the
home we just exited as a gurney is wheeled across the lawn into the ambulance.
Six people populate the scene and we can see their entire bodies, from top to
bottom. After about six seconds, the scene cuts away to a different location.
This
opening scene emphasizes the increasing level of coldness and impersonality in
a scene that should be very emotional and personal. While Bahrani’s long take
creates an “unblinking eye” kind of setup here, his constant profiling of
Carver from his backside, whilst he is on the phone or simply ignoring the
investigator gives us a sense of disconnectedness throughout the entire scene.
With a suspenseful score mixed in, the scene only further grows unsettling as
the aftermath of a tragedy doesn’t seem to faze anyone, but rather, further
isolate everyone in a manner that’s frighteningly distant. Finally, Bahrani’s
talented use of steady-cam helps make this scene consistent in its shots, never
becoming too shaky or too transparent with its intentions. The way the scene is
aesthetically crafted and written, all in one, uninterrupted take, gives us a
feeling that we’re on a rollercoaster ride we cannot escape.
Comments
Post a Comment