Lockhart vs. The Rest of Structuralist Film Making
Sharon Lockhart has been compared to James Benning, creator of 13 Lakes, and 10 Skies. I have to admit, just as I only made it through 6 of 10 Skies, I also only made it through the first half of Pine Flat. I mention this because both pieces, 10 Skies, and Pine Flat are settings from the first three quarters of my life- the California Sky, and growing up in the Sierra Nevada foothills.
I'd like to start with Goshogaoka, because it is outside of my experience, and yet I feel like it is a better film. Goshogaoka is a choreographed fiction based on Lockhart's study. At no time during it's exploration of movement, frame, and space did I feel pulled out of the film. The cinematography is consistent, as is the choreography and the ideas in motion. Similarly, at no time during 10 Skies, did I feel like the factuality of the document was in question. Structurally it was sound, neither piece ever felt forced. Here too, I think of D'est. Regardless of pace, and structure, I never felt as though Akerman was forcing the piece to behave a certain way.
This is not what I felt during Pine Flat. Although I felt strong identifications with the children, remembering clearly what it is like in rural California, where the opportunity for long hours of solitary play on vast wooded hillsides is greater than anywhere else I have ever been, it still seemed that these children were forced into the scene. I expected myself to be more forgiving, because I have engaged in the exact same activities, in the very same environments. I think part of it may be, again, the artist's buildup of these children that she missed, and her constant intrusion into the space because poor camera use. Every time the camera readjusted during a segment, it shook me out of the contemplation of the subject. This little tiny thing disrupted the piece and brought on memories of less than favorable reviews I had read earlier in the day.
I have to give Ms. Lockhart credit for her effort, as she has never constructed a film on her own. Unfortunately though, it shows, and in showing it diminishes the film for me. In the end, I couldn't help but be poisoned by the review that implied that there is not really any content to this film. That it is little more than a collection of moving stills. That it portrays nothing, but gets by on it's merit as "pure art." In the end though, I became like the hunter in his camo during the film. Forced to sit still and obviously somehow not really willing to; like him, as much as I want to do what I am sitting there for, I can only disrupt it. A hunter, cannot sit and make noise and expect to find game. A viewer cannot sit still if all he can do is be reminded of the artifice of a film that is not truly supposed to be about artifice.
Again, I have to say that there are many wonderful moments in that first half. Especially the boy waiting for the bus he can see across the valley, and the way the mist comes and goes in the forest. Those two moments alone ring so true for me. But the camera movement, and the unrealistic moments weighed me down. Perhaps I am just in a bad mood, or I expect more out of visitors sometimes and may be forgetting that directors are just people. As a late bloomer, myself, it may be that I should be infinitely forgiving to Sharon Lockhart for messing with my childhood in her first go around with a camera in her hand.
I'd like to start with Goshogaoka, because it is outside of my experience, and yet I feel like it is a better film. Goshogaoka is a choreographed fiction based on Lockhart's study. At no time during it's exploration of movement, frame, and space did I feel pulled out of the film. The cinematography is consistent, as is the choreography and the ideas in motion. Similarly, at no time during 10 Skies, did I feel like the factuality of the document was in question. Structurally it was sound, neither piece ever felt forced. Here too, I think of D'est. Regardless of pace, and structure, I never felt as though Akerman was forcing the piece to behave a certain way.
This is not what I felt during Pine Flat. Although I felt strong identifications with the children, remembering clearly what it is like in rural California, where the opportunity for long hours of solitary play on vast wooded hillsides is greater than anywhere else I have ever been, it still seemed that these children were forced into the scene. I expected myself to be more forgiving, because I have engaged in the exact same activities, in the very same environments. I think part of it may be, again, the artist's buildup of these children that she missed, and her constant intrusion into the space because poor camera use. Every time the camera readjusted during a segment, it shook me out of the contemplation of the subject. This little tiny thing disrupted the piece and brought on memories of less than favorable reviews I had read earlier in the day.
I have to give Ms. Lockhart credit for her effort, as she has never constructed a film on her own. Unfortunately though, it shows, and in showing it diminishes the film for me. In the end, I couldn't help but be poisoned by the review that implied that there is not really any content to this film. That it is little more than a collection of moving stills. That it portrays nothing, but gets by on it's merit as "pure art." In the end though, I became like the hunter in his camo during the film. Forced to sit still and obviously somehow not really willing to; like him, as much as I want to do what I am sitting there for, I can only disrupt it. A hunter, cannot sit and make noise and expect to find game. A viewer cannot sit still if all he can do is be reminded of the artifice of a film that is not truly supposed to be about artifice.
Again, I have to say that there are many wonderful moments in that first half. Especially the boy waiting for the bus he can see across the valley, and the way the mist comes and goes in the forest. Those two moments alone ring so true for me. But the camera movement, and the unrealistic moments weighed me down. Perhaps I am just in a bad mood, or I expect more out of visitors sometimes and may be forgetting that directors are just people. As a late bloomer, myself, it may be that I should be infinitely forgiving to Sharon Lockhart for messing with my childhood in her first go around with a camera in her hand.
posted by Daniel Kelly at 8:58 AM
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