THE DICTATOR POSTER: The Audacity of Sacha Baron Cohen

Today, I veer from my typical attention to a/v materials to consider the key art (poster) for Sacha Baron Cohen’s latest film, The Dictator, in which he impersonates a Middle-Eastern dictator with the promotional savvy, indifference to taste and solicitation of controversy that we’ve come to expect from his performance art and filmmaking.

Let me begin with some observations:

The key art presents itself not as a movie poster but as a gilt framed portrait in the “great leader” representational mode. This is portraiture as propaganda, the story a familiar one: power, prestige, wisdom, permanence, glory.

There’s no film title. There’s no copy tagline. There’s no release date and there’s no credit block or cast run. The only identifying information is in the lower right corner, where the artist’s signature is normally to be found. Here, we read: republicofwadiya.com / Summer 2012, followed by a barely legible Paramount Studio logo.

Nevertheless, many if not most American film goers and popular culture consumers will recognize Mr. Cohen, despite the full beard, opaque green sunglasses and Naval Officer’s uniform, complete with braided epaulettes, a chest full of medals, gem-encrusted stars and orders, and a commander’s cap. (Ironically, Wadiya seems to be a land-locked country.) They will have seen this persona most recently on the red carpet at the Oscars, where he spilled what he said were the ashes of recently deceased North Korean dictator, Kim Jong Il on Ryan Seacrest, as part of a publicity stunt and promotional effort for his upcoming film. (It worked, whether to Mr. Seacrest’s consternation or with his tacit connivance. Will we ever know and does it matter?)

In the event viewers do not recognize Cohen or have not seen advance publicity about the movie, they are referred by the poster/portrait to the film’s website, a lampoon of what a sovereign website might look like, down to the choice of either English or Wadiyan language versions, featuring faux official photos, an approved history of Wadiya and an entirely invented alphabet and script. (Among other insensitivities to and stereotypes about the fictional population of Wadiya–and by extension, not a few of its real neighbors–this might be the most insulting.)

Of course the website is not representative of the nation so much as of its heroic leader, whose life, concerns and preferences inspires and organizes the content. L’etat, C’est Moi, presumably. (By the way, the web developers appear to have built delays and circularities into the site in order to make it more “realistic”–that is, frustrating, slow and suggestive of incompetence or underdevelopment.)

So, to recap:

This poster is not a poster, but a portrait.
The link is not to a movie, per se, but to an ersatz governmental website.
Wadiya is not a real country but a state of mind.
And yet, this is very much a promotional campaign, appealing to fans’ interest in stars (Mr. Cohen), story (the Dictator’s progress) and genre (a political mockumentary) and relying on their recourse to the digital sphere for further and essential information.

When one thinks of the comic genius of Mr. Cohen, words like presumption, fearlessness, audacity, and brash self-assertion come to mind. But there is a better one: “chutzpah”– Yiddish for “gall, brazen nerve, effrontery, incredible ‘guts,’ presumption plus arrogance such as no other word and no other language can do justice to.” (Leo Rosten:

    The Joys of Yiddish

)

Even Charlie Chaplin, one of the biggest stars of all time, included his name on the poster for THE GREAT DICTATOR, a 1940 film mocking Adolf Hitler, rather than assuming his impersonation would be self-evident. As with Chaplin’s film, Cohen’s Dictator is explicitly and significantly hostile to Jews (see the website for frequent reminders of the Wadiyan state’s official anti-Semitism), a quality that makes Cohen’s impersonation all the more vertiginous and unsettling. (One is reminded of Cohen’s character Bruno, who attempts to broker a Middle East peace settlement while dressed in Yeshiva student fetish costume.)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/republicofwadiya]

In this poster, Mr. Cohen in full disguise is fully confident that he’ll be recognized and that the promotional intent of this image will be understood, even, or especially, if the viewer has to follow the link to the Republic of Wadiya website and then click on the Youtube button to watch the official trailer. (On the website Calender, mention of the film and its release date are also indicated, although citizens of Wadiya are warned not to attend this propagandistic screed produced by Western, infidel enemies.)

Like Mr. Cohen’s interactive comedy, satire and performance art, the key art for the Dictator invites, nay demands, viewer engagement, interaction, work and maybe even discomfort. It’s a lot to ask of audiences, but then such presumption has served Mr. Cohen very well in the past.

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movietrailers101 by Fred Greene is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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THE BODYGUARD (1992) TRAILER — The Music Is the Message

After Whitney’s tragic death, I found myself watching Youtube videos of her live performance, mourning as well the prior destruction of that sublime instrument, her voice. I decided to blog about the trailer for THE BODYGUARD, a 1992 blockbuster that’s earned $400M since its release, while selling 44 million copies of the soundtrack (the highest total EVER!)

My interest in this trailer was also motivated by a personal brush with the marketing campaign nearly 2 decades ago: I vividly recall the astonished relief and delight of a Warner Bros Marketing Executive (now deceased and who shall remain nameless), who I knew socially, as he confided to my weekend host, Andy Kuehn that “we had put this piece of shit over on the American public.” I don’t think I’m offending anyone to say that The Bodyguard is on no ones list of great films, but it was a cultural event and triumph of casting and concept. Houston portrayed a superstar vocal artist. Costner, on the heels of his Oscar winning role in Dances with Wolves and impressive work in important films like Bull Durham, Field of Dreams and JFK, inhabited the role of Frank Farmer like a Snuggie.

Watching the trailer, I could tell that the film would be a guilty pleasure, and in retrospect, an especially poignant one, since you can’t help but think that if only Whitney had had a man like Frank in her life—to protect her and rescue her—whether from herself, Bobby Brown or Johnnie Walker, she and THE VOICE would be with us today.

But I digress. I am here to discuss the trailer, not parade my grief. And the trailer is an interesting one. Twenty years ago, anticipating the style of current coming attractions, the trailer makers eschewed copy and voice over, relying instead on dialogue to tell the story and lyrics from the music cue – “I Have Nothing” — to convey the emotion and the romance. The music cue is also a diegetic source, since it is one of the big numbers Houston’s character performs.

In this 2:04 second trailer, the premise of the film emerges quickly and without reserve: Rachel Marin, superstar recording artist, hires a veteran security specialist to be her bodyguard, and he in turn protects her from a violent stalker. He falls in love with her as she does with him, the man who literally saves her life and carries her to safety. Whitney looks gorgeous, sings like an angel and delivers a convincing version of herself. Kevin is seriously appealing in his understated, man-of-few-words confidence and competence. The romance develops amidst the existential threat posed by an unseen, but persistent and capable killer. Professional boundaries are crossed and then demolished.

We know they’re falling for each other from dialogue: Costners, “I don’t want to get confused…” and “You’re paying me to protect you,” and “Everybody’s afraid of something…that’s how we know we care about things, when we fear losing them.” Houston’s “How about you Frank Farmer, out there on the edge?” and “I’m not confused.” But even more instructive and certainly more evocative are the lyrics of the music cue which plays beneath the trailer. Ms. Houston sings:

Share my life, take me for what I am
Coz I’ll never change all my colors for you

The lyrics occasionally become unintelligible beneath dialogue and action, but return to audibility to serve the emotional and narrative needs of the trailer:

I don’t really need to look very much further
I don’t want to have to go where you don’t follow

And
Well, don’t make me close one more door
I don’t wanna hurt anymore
Stay in my arms if you dare
Or must I imagine you there
Don’t walk away from me…
I have nothing, nothing, nothing
If I don’t have you, you, you, you, you, you.

The editing, approximately 75 decisions in 120 seconds, consists of a combination of close-ups (of faces and reactions) and medium shots of action and event. The pacing is slower when presenting relationship scenes and quicker when capturing the excitement of the action-thriller components. (There are no fades or dissolves; just clean and brisk shot to shot cuts.) In keeping with the title and subject matter, tight shots establish intimacy and personal space, the distance at which a man like Farmer works with his clients. It’s a subtle, appropriate and effective marriage of form with content.

Interestingly, the MTV Video for “I Will Always Love You,” the mega-hit from the film’s mega-soundtrack, functions as an alternate trailer for the film, although it shows a different set of dangers from which Houston needs rescuing by Costner. In the official trailer, the stalker (who’s never identified or identifiable, but whose P.O.V. is used) appears to be hunting his quarry in a domestic setting, with an attack occurring in a nightclub (prompting the famous shot of Costner carrying Whitney) and a final assault and explosion taking place in a lakeside setting. In the video for the song, we see Ms Marin at the Academy Awards, where she has just won a Best Actress statuette, enter the kill zone of her deranged assailant as bodyguard Farmer races to intervene.

In this Video, music promotion and film promotion merge and become indistinguishable. It’s a synthesis notably displayed in the 1986 Valentine to Naval aviators, Top Gun, whose “HIGHWAY TO THE DANGER ZONE” was a huge hit for Kenny Loggins and a marketing bonanza for the film.

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movietrailers101 by Fred Greene is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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PINA: A Gorgeous Trailer Analyzed and Explained(?)

From the few glimpses of her work seen in Pedro Almodovar’s films and what I’ve read in newspapers and reviews, I’ve become a fan of the German avant-garde choreographer, Pina Bausch. I still haven’t seen the Oscar Nominated 3-D documentary by Wim Wenders, her longtime friend, who delayed making this movie until he had a technological means to do justice to her art, which regrettably occurred about the time that she died, in 2008. The trailer is captivating and in this post, I hope to do no more than describe how it is articulated and encourage you to see the film.

The official theatrical trailers is 1:31. There is no dialogue, although there are graphic cards which pose 12 questions, “is it DANCE/ is it THEATER/ or is it just…./LIFE/LOVE/FREEDOM/STRUGGLE/LONGING/JOY/DESPAIR/REUNION/ BEAUTY/ STRENGTH.” The words in capitals appear against shots of characteristically Bauschian choreography, and intimate that her work is all of the above.

Bausch, “a legendary dancer and choreographer [whose] creations transformed the language of dance and offer a visual experience like no other” (from the film’s website) does not appear in the trailer, which excerpts moments from her signature works. In the second scene or dance sequence, a veteran collaborator, who looks uncannily like the choreographer, appears eyes closed, at the center of a group of men in suits and ties who manipulate her limbs, cup her chin and tweak her nose. The question “is it THEATER” appears over this strange, compelling image and unsettling choreographic encounter.

As the blurb from the official website indicates and as everything I’ve ever seen or read about her work confirms, Bausch’s dance is startling, even for those used to the conventions of modern or contemporary dance. Her movement is as if drawn from life; her dancers are too: young and old, short and tall; thin and heavy-set.

As captioned by the various nouns: life, love, freedom, etc. etc.., we see movement and movers representing, at least abstractly and sometimes, iconically, those terms. Single centered performers, or pairs on either side center frame, typically coming together in a right to left (or left to right) trajectory. Taupe, black and grey provides the color palette of the dancer’s costumes, with an insistent and striking use of red—as dress material, lipstick, title card color—punctuating the images, all shot in the post-industrial German town of Wuppertal. Red is presumably Pina’s signature shade. (The title PINA is in large block, fire-engine red letters.)

After the last of the possible answers to the question of what “it is” are posed, a quote from Ms. Bausch, “dance, dance, otherwise we are lost” appears on screen, as a shirtless male dancer lifts and twirls his red-gowned partner in a circle away from the camera.

Next, a female dancer, center frame, dances on point amidst the hulking physical plant of a vast, industrial complex. A card appears on the left half of the screen: A FILM FOR PINA BAUSCH; then the idea is completed with a card appearing on the right side of the screen and the dancer: BY WIM WENDERS.

The motivation of the film and its directors’ credit (Wenders is a celebrated film artist) is followed by a clip of the same troupe of taupe-clad dancers from the opening shot, fronted by a woman holding out a red dress. As she meets a shirtless male dancer approaching from the right, he, suddenly and forcibly, pulls her and the fabric into him.

Cut to a male dancer, shirtless, dancing in a few inches of water, kicking sprays of water from lower left to upper right, where the red block letters PINA appear, spotlit in the shimmering droplets.

Over a shot of the hanging train (or Inter City Express) of Wuppertal, Germany, (the only one of its kind in the world, and incredibly dating to the late 19th century) a blurb from Wall Street Journal film critic, Joe Morganstern summarizes: “A haunting elegy for choreographer Pina Bausch, with a wondrously surreal evocation of her work. Takes unprecedented advantage of 3-D.” Here, in the words of the distinguished reviewer is a summary of what this film is, how it succeeds and why, technologically and artistically, it’s significant and worthy. If only every blurbmeister were as helpful to trailermakers.

As the camera pulls out along the track of the Hanging Train, (seen earlier in the background of a dance sequence staged on a grassy median of a city street), the credit block appear.

The music cue for the trailer is, I think, all of a piece, but consists of two parts: opening strings, brass and synthesized notes slowly descends the scale, imitating the sound of human voices sighing; then, as the card for “LIFE” (as in, “is it ….LIFE”) appears, a piano, bass and drum riff kicks in– driving home comparison of word, sound and image– as a shirt-and slacks appareled male dancer bursts over the lip of a vast quarry, dancing in the sand up top. The music bed is driving and rhythmically regular, and the dance movement as well as the presentation of graphic copy is cut to the beat.

The edits are simple and direct: no fades, dissolves or cuts to black; just cutting from scene to scene, each narrative or kinetic unit complete, albeit linked across the edits by rhythmic and graphic relationships. (Centered action; lateral movements; a muted color palette with eruptions of red.)

Editing is often conceived as a type of visual choreography, and here, that figure of speech or metaphor is made literal. It’s a gorgeous trailer. Go see the movie. I’m buying my ticket now.

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movietrailers101 by Fred Greene is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

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