The dying light of the sun nipped against your shoulders, beaming upon your cotton back like a spotlight, promising a drowsy blissfulness that would diminish as the day-blind stars sprouted from their hiding spots among the cosmos. The gentle huff of the breeze dappled over the rolling hills, causing the foliage on the sparse collection of trees surrounding you to ruffle. And it was a wonder to your eyes to watch such a phenomenon. However, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to drift towards Farrah, who sat next to you in haze of blonde hair and skin like the glow of the moon. And you drank in the sight of her as if she was the finest glass of wine you had ever encountered and ever would.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked, your eyes locking in on hers, which were like fragments of the sky caught between her lashes. “I can practically hear your mind working from here.”
Farrah flashed her pearly whites at you, but a smile would not shape her lips no matter how much you knew she willed it. “I can’t stop thinking about how this is the last sunset I’m ever going to see.”
And that was the paralyzing truth of the moment. The truth was that in a matter of hours, humanity would be a mere memory, you and Farrah and everyone you had ever known and heard of and would have ever known. Because a meteor was coming. And although the human race had fought a valiant battle, every attempt they made against their vicious competitor had barely caused a scratch against the massive pile of rock. And it was funny, it really was, that the human race had survived for thousands of years; they had stained the world with blood of their brethren, breathed life into the world and into humanity, had enriched the world with culture and our e...
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...n of white sheets across a span of several trees, a projector precariously balanced far enough away in the trees to display the movie.
The movies were classic creatures, the type that made you laugh and cry and cause nostalgia to buzz in every nerve of your body. Farrah’s arm brushed against yours, the silken tendrils of her hair tangling with yours, and you were in bliss. Your eyelids grew heavier as the night wore on, serene in the environment of your species, the air smelling thickly of the floral scent of Farrah’s perfume and the mellow aroma of the night.
Your head lolled over, capturing the architecture of Farrah’s face. And that moment stretched on for an infinity and you couldn''t help but feel that she was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. And you were glad it was your final sight before your eyes closed and you never opened them again.
“Just weeping. I can still hear her weeping now sometimes. I know the exact sound of it, like a note you hear or a song that keeps spinning around in your head and you can’t forget it.”
It is quiet rare to watch a film that trumps its novel origins. Film version of movies are often less detailed, give poor representation of true characters, and are frequently just plain laughable in comparison to “the real deal.” However, the best selling memoir, “Wild: A Journey from Lost to Found” offers a framework that simply begs to be put into motion picture.
The film Wendy and Lucy, directed by Kelly Reichardt, presents a sparse narrative. The film has been criticised for its lack of background story, and as a short film, much of the story is left to the viewer to infer from what is presented in the plot. However, Wendy and Lucy is able to depict the intimate relationship between Wendy and her dog as well as reflecting more broadly on the everyday, and commenting on the current economic state of the film’s setting in America. This essay will examine how film form contributes to the viewer’s awareness of the story in Wendy and Lucy and allows a deeper understanding of the themes presented. The aspects of mise-en-scene, shot and editing and sound in the film will be explored.
“Yes, it is me, no need to whisper though.” She stated, playing around with the hem of her shirt. “I need to talk to you.” She said plainly and Philip kept blinking his eyes, wondering when she would vanish again.
Gallagher, T. 2002. Senses of Cinema – Max Ophuls: A New Art – But Who Notices?. [online] Available at: http://sensesofcinema.com/2002/feature-articles/ophuls/ [Accessed: 8 Apr 2014].
Petrie, Dennis W., and Joseph M. Boggs. The Art of Watching Films. Dubuque: McGraw-Hill Companies, 2012. Print.
Jared Diamond author of “The Ends of the World as We Know Them” highlights the reasons for the disappearance of early civilizations. Civilizations like the Mayans, Incas and Aztecs once inhabited the earth for hundreds of years, However; when these advanced civilizations reached the pinnacle of their capability, they faced tragedies such as war, unusual weather, environmental deprivation, terminated trade markets and unscrupulous leaders who contributed to the destruction of their civilization. One significant idea portrayed from Diamond’s article is that there are many factors that threaten American civilization.
The director’s concept was again realized in a very creative and simple way. The stage crew did not have time to literally place trees on the stage, or to paint a border that elaborate—the light made the slatted walls look real and really allowed the audience to become a part of the experience.
Boggs, J. M., Petrie, D. W. (2004). The Art of Watching Films (6 ͭ ͪ ed.). New York, NY: McGraw-Hill.
Naturally, sometimes people just want to leave the house and go somewhere. A new or seasoned couple might be looking for place to get together. Like an instinct, as a result of frequent movie advertisements, the movie theater is one place that comes to mind. It offers a unique experience that starts with the massive and imposing screen that occupies the theater room where all seats are faced forward. The screen and front-faced seats, coupled with the absence of light, are the first things movie-goers notice when they enter the room. This commends all attention to the giant screen, and the already found sense that something new and exciting is about to appear, grows stronger. Eventually, the seats are filled, phones are turned off, chatting stops and the lights are dimmed; as the stream of new and exciting previews begins. From then on, all ...
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
She looked out towards the sky, weak rays of sunlight were breaking through the horizon. She knew people were beginning to stir. She also knew that she would have to leave soon. She just wished she didn’t have
Boggs, J. & Petrie, J. (2008). The Art of Watching Films. New York, NY: The McGraw-Hill Companies. p. 2-463.
The concept of “window” is figured into the very form of cinema. Every ‘shot’ is a framed window that hints the vast reality just outside of our view. People viewing this “window” get connected to this reality, experience the happenings, feel the emotions and engrossed into a life whatever they have wished. This is the magic of cinema.
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.