Outsourced (2007)

Outsourced, directed by John Jeffcoat, is a film about Todd Anderson (Josh Hamilton), a thirty-two year old man whose job gets outsourced to India and must travel to India to train his replacements in the call center of Western Novelty. The film wants to display the cultural differences in India and the United States and demonstrate a man who breaks down those barriers fusing two cultures together. It also ridicules American consumerism and the supposed “ideals” about American pride.

When Todd [or Mr. Toad as the Indians refer to him] first arrives in India to simply perform his job requirements and get back to the States, he does not appreciate the customs India’s culture brings. For instance, he tries to make the call center operate like a United States office, instead of asking the workers what will improve their working environment. He tries to teach the Indians how to speak “American” [slang words] and attempts to explain what the company’s ridiculous products’ purposes are. In one scene, Todd tries to explain to the workers why American farmers brand their cows and their steaks. The workers thought it was horrendous. One important part in the film was when Asha, played by Ayesha Dharker [the call center worker who he falls in love with], tells Todd that she thinks he should learn about Indian culture. She also points out that most American goods are produced in China, not the States, so why should Americans be upset by a customer call center in India, which directly ridicules Americans ideals about products and consumerism.

Not until the day of Holi, a celebration of the changing seasons and the colors through a paint war all over the country, does Todd heed Asha’s advice and fully embrace the Indian culture. He asks the office how work can be improved for them. He soon becomes a full embracer of the culture, participating in every custom and even giving his leftover food to the working people over the wall. He falls in love with Asha, who is a very independent, smart woman. Purohit N. Virajnarianan [Asif Basra] is the man who will take over Todd’s position in India. He houses Todd in his mother’s house and soon becomes a great friend. He is also the majority of where the comedy in the film stems from.

Even when Todd returns to the States, he still observes some of the same customs and practices he learned in India, like preparing his tea. The film effectively shows the hopelessness of outsourcing—that the big businesses will keep moving their industries to the cheaper country—for Todd’s boss decides to move the call center to China after all of the hard work by Todd and his coworkers in India. It also portrays a man who learns to accept all that another culture can offer and allows it to enrich his life.

Goya's Ghosts (2006)

Goya’s Ghosts, directed by Milos Forman and starring Stellan Skarsgard, Javier Bardem, and Natalie Portman, is a film about the famous painter Francisco Goya, the Spanish Inquisition, and the French “liberation” of Spain. It is a film centered on the political turmoil occurring during Spain in this time period.

At the center of the politics occurring in Spain, Francisco Goya [Stellan Skarsgard] plays a man who is at peace with himself among all the turmoil. Viewers see everything from Goya’s perspective, which proved to be very interesting. He paints with an honest eye; for instance, in the queen’s portrait, he makes her appear even more homely than she actually is. When commissioned to paint a portrait for a young Catholic priest, Father Lorenzo [Javier Bardem], Goya sees straight through the pretense of the priest. Lorenzo is a man pitted against his own nature; viewers can witness the struggle with power and his own impulses. Goya recognizes this inner turmoil in Lorenzo; likewise, Lorenzo admires Goya for his talent and peace. Together they are a great contrast in the film, much like in the larger context, the turmoil occurring in their country.

From the struggles Lorenzo faces against himself, the pain fell on the innocent, Natalie Portman’s character, Ines Bilbatua, daughter of a wealthy merchant. She was wrongly accused of being Jewish by the Inquisition, who forced a confession from her during the torture process noted “The Question.” A confession obtained via this torture process was considered absolute truth. A very good scene was when Ines’s father put Lorenzo to “The Question” to prove that his daughter’s confession was coerced, causing Lorenzo to sign a confession that he was the bastard son of an orangutan. However, Ines remained in prison for 15 long years. Her freedom only was granted when Napoleon and his armies stopped the Inquisition. She emerges from the jail haggard with a jaw disease, which makes Portman talk out of the side of her mouth. It results in tremendous acting, for Portman has to play the naïve, innocent muse of Goya’s in the first section of the film, then she plays a decrepit woman overtaken by a hard life in prison and the loss of a child [Father Lorenzo’s child], and then Ines’s young daughter who is a harlot.

Goya's Ghosts served to express to viewers this tumultuous time in Spain; it is effective in doing this through the perspective of Goya.

Man with the Movie Camera

Dziga Vertov’s Man with the Movie Camera is an artistic film about a man who is filming the daily lives of the regular working class, railroad workers, miners, and the bus station, and women in the street, in Russia. One theme that is evident in the film is that an inanimate object [the camera] is filming so many different events and people around it, and life still passes by. Vertov knows what type of shots he wants; he sets the camera at unique angles to get a different perspective that people would not normally notice in their daily regimen. For instance, he sets the camera between the two trolleys going down the road and he places the camera on the train tracks to get an underside view of the train. He uses montage a lot, juxtaposing images together. My favorite was the one with the two street scenes going into each other, and one was crooked within the frame.

In one shot, he is filming, on a moving car, another moving car. The women in the car actually react to the camera, which shows a realistic measure to the film. The use of slow motion was employed in the film as well; in the pole vaulting, high jumping, sand volleyball, the hurdlers, and the discus thrower, the film made it seem like they were suspended in air, creating an ethereal appearance. The swimmer performing the breast stroke in slow motion was pure grace.

Another scene that was impressive editing-wise and artistically was when the camera was moving by itself. It was conveying that the camera is an entity in itself; it captures the footage.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919) and Metropolis (1927)

I could see the artistic measures in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919) from its musical score and the camera effects employed. The music was very dark and always building up to something in the beginning of the film before the first murder took place. It got quieter when the murder was actually about to happen, impacting viewers in an emotional way. At first, viewers would always sense a tragedy was about to take place, but then when the music died down and viewers relaxed, a murder would then occur, catching them off guard. This increased the thrill of the film.

The first murder was displayed by the shadow on the wall behind the bed while the somnambulist was choking the man. It was an artistic measure to not show the two characters but focus on the wall behind them. Another part was the framing of the actors. The camera would fade from a scene into a circle framing one character; it really emphasized the constriction of the film and how everything was packed in.

Something the two films [The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Metropolis (1927)] had in common were the clean lines. For instance, when Cesare had taken the girl out of her bedroom and crawled up the side onto the roof of another building, there was a “Z” of lines drawing the viewers eyes up to Cesare with the woman on his back. The same “Z” was utilized in Metropolis with the architecture of the set. Showing the buildings, viewers would catch angles that drew their eyes to other buildings and so forth, constantly making the viewer look at the entire frame.

Metropolis was also very symmetrical, evident in the opening and ending sequences. In the beginning, all of the workers where shuffling in at exactly the same speed in uniform rows. There was an equilateral triangle of people walking up to the four-paneled doors in an exact, uniform manner.

Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin

I really was surprised how much I found the films, Buster Keaton’s The General (1926) and Charlie Chaplin’s two shorts films, so funny. The facial expressions both used were perfect. Keaton was more of a stone face, and I laughed when everything around him was going wrong except his unmovable face. On the other hand, Chaplin’s facial expressions could relay to viewers exactly what he was thinking. They were both awesome. The expressions really cannot be reproduced that these two mastered.

I also agree with what Dr. Hendricks was saying about Keaton being more athletic and Chaplin balletic. Keaton performed all of his acrobatic stunts with an ease. He walked upright, strong, and masculine. Although he did slump in some of the scenes, it was brilliant, for when he does not use his face, he utilizes his body to convey a certain emotion. Chaplin had large shoes that caused him to waddle, but he still managed to walk with grace. He was very precise in his movements.

The General really stands out in my mind. Keaton always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, yet the situation turns into the right place at the right time. For instance, when he sneaks into the house, and it ends up being the enemy’s house. He has to hide under the table. It seems like pure bad luck; however, he would not have learned of the plans or learned that his woman [Margaret?] was captured.

Broken Blossoms (1919)

Besides the exaggerated acting in the silent film, I also noticed another exaggeration of sorts. The camera stays zoomed in on a facial expression or a gesture for a considerable amount of time. The pausing technique is probably used to make the point or action intended more understanding to viewers since it is a silent film. It also compels viewers to sympathize with Lucy.

I also found it interesting that the film labeled Lucy “a weaker object” in her father’s eyes. He does not identify with Lucy as he does other human beings. She is his to do with whatever he wishes, his possession and not a valuable one. Her very existence, her humanity has been taken from her by her father. He has basically sucked the life out of her. Ultimately, she has become merely an object.

While Battling Burrows is beating her at one point, Lucy places her hand on her father’s face in a loving gesture. It is odd because she is frightened of him, yet she touches his face tenderly. This is the only loving gesture Lucy makes towards anyone; she also places her hand on the Chinese man in the exact manner. There seems to be some sexual tension between Lucy and her father and the Chinese man. When the Chinese man comes forward presumably for a kiss, she looks frightened like she does when her father advances on her; however, she retaliates with this weird caress on the face with her hand. There is some strange sexuality going on in this film. The subtitles assure us that the Chinese man’s love for Lucy is only of “pure intentions,” but the film leads us to believe otherwise.

The film does a good job with the constriction of the set and Lucy's world and the close-ups of her face causing viewers to sympathize with Lucy.