Jasper Sharp : StreetDance

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“Bigger, better, bolder, back.” The quote by the Sunday Mirror’s Mark Adams prominently emblazoned across the top of the poster for StreetDance 2 3D pretty much tells you all you need to know about the sequel to the surprise hit of 2010, the UK underdog that came from nowhere to gleefully bash such bloated bombs as Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood and Prince of Persia (remember them?) at the box office upon its original theatrical release. Even more revealing is the appearance of the logo for the new BFI Film Fund in the opening credits. This is one of the first titles to receive its lottery funding via the BFI following the abolition of the UK Film Council on 31 March last year (see my original post on this) and, on the surface at least, appears to be pretty much the type of film we all thought David Cameron was crying out for just a few months back – a glossier reprise of a low-budget, high-earning film with mass popular appeal and high export potential. Ken Loach, this ain’t, but it’s a whole lot of fun, nonetheless.

Britain's Got Talent dance troupe Flawless return from the first film for this sequence in Trafalgar Square

Less a sequel than a reboot, the new film clearly has its eye on a bigger market than the UK. Largely eschewing the self-congratulatory back-slapping one would expect from a British film of this nature set in the year of the Olympics (although the London 2012 logo does appear once, in an early dance number set in Trafalgar Square), StreetDance 2 is essentially a tale of two cities, with much of the action ostensibly set in a Paris consisting of smoky bars and underground dance venues, and shabby youth hostel dormitories. There’s only a few choice exteriors to give an indication that even the smallest part of it was actually filmed there, while the vast arena that plays host to the spectacular final tournament is a dazzling, otherworldly CGI creation.

StreetDance 2 star and Will Young looky-likey Falk Hentschel

Not that the British side of things gets very much of a look in, with Nicola Burley’s sassy ‘Sarf’ London cru replaced wholesale by a pan-European posse led by clean-cut American Ash, played by newcomer (and dead ringer for Will Young) Falk Hentschel. Ash’s early-scene humiliation, after challenging London locals Invincible (curiously affecting American accents) to an underground dance-off, sees him ending up flat on his ass and assigned with the sobriquet ‘Popcorn boy’, as well as instilling in him a taste for revenge, fostered through a chance meeting with chirpy chappy Eddie (played by another Britain’s Got Talent alumni, the 2008 winner George Sampson), who offers to manage him. From then on in, it’s a brief hop, skip and jump around the continent as the unlikely pair attempt to put together a team to rescue Ash’s crumpled pride by taking on the arrogant rude boys at the world’s biggest dance competition, Final Clash, to be held in the French capital in but a matter of weeks. Before long the hapless duo are joined by, among others, Tino from Ibiza, Skorpion from the Swiss Alps, a tattooed lass from Amsterdam named Bam-Bam and Terrabyte from Prague, winding up in Paris where they discover the final missing ingredient in the shapely form of sultry salsa-dancing Eva (Sofia Boutella), all black fishnets and booty-shaking action.

Sofia Boutella, a revelation in three dimensions.

Eddie is the first to spot the pouty Parisienne’s potential to add a fiery touch of spice to the urban collective by introducing a more Latin groove to their routine. However, two obstacles stand between Ash’s will-to-power desire for revenge by way of such romantic fusion. The first, Eva’s current partner Lucien, is quickly eliminated, exiting the dance floor with a haughty Gallic shrug after being harangued because he has a girl’s name and his fandango is not quite ‘street’ enough. The second is her fiercely protective Uncle Manu, played by Tom Conti, reprising his Mediterranean shtick from Shirley Valentine (1989). Oh yes, and there’s a third – the chisel-jawed American’s unwillingness to share his moment.

StreetDance 2 lacks the charming naiveté of the first time round, but there’s a spontaneity about these films that makes them, if not hard to criticise, then at least hard to resist. The 3D format almost seems tailor made for its subject, far more so than the sort of macho action spectacles one usually associates it with. Bodies leap and contort rhythmically, in several instances eliciting uniform gasps of amazement from the audience at the screening I attended, while misty swathes of perspiration, dust motes and cigarette smoke accentuate the sense of volumetric space. The path to epic Final Clash might be a familiar one, but it’s exhilarating nonetheless.

Keeping it sexy in StreetDance 2

The portrayal of a new borderless and street-level, multi-ethnic Europe united in a harmonious body politic is also rather fascinating. This is one aimed at the EasyJet rather than the Eurorail generation, with barely a beret in sight, and Tom Conti’s gasping, garlic sausage-guzzling Uncle Manu left as the sole representative of the pre-single currency era. He’s not without a few wise words for the youngsters, too. “Dance with your heart, not with your head”, he advises our headstrong young hero or, translated into their street argot, “Don’t treat your bitch like a ho.” Manu’s role is to sandpaper down the competitive edge off the dancers, reminding them of the central role of passion in performance and exhorting them to temper their more aggressively sexy and confrontational stance with a bit of old-school romanticism – hence the running joke throughout the film of Eva consistently rebuffing Ash’s insistence they share the intimacy of dinner, despite spending hours of practice grinding their thighs together.

StreetDance 2: Beating the Eurovision Song Contest at its own game

The film’s initially conservative-seeming message, of a WASP-ish white boy from the U.S. coming in to rally together the disparate elements of a fragmented Europe with the aid of his British sidekick and lead them unto victory, is turned on its head by the finale. In a film in which the line between text and subtext often seems to strain beneath its gossamer flimsiness, it’s possible to detect a slightly more radical idea, as the pushy outsider effectively learns to subjugate his ego for the good of the collective – in other words, to become more instinctive, and indeed, more European. Now I wonder what David Cameron would make of that?

StreetDance 2 is out in the UK in 2D and 3D on 30 March 2012. For more information, check out the films website www.streetdancethemovie.co.uk.

Another year grinds torpidly to its bathetic conclusion, and the internet is already bulging at the seams with the traditional seasonal self-indulgence as various critics and aficionados such as myself flag up their top film picks of 2010. Forgive me if you were expecting even more of the same here, but my selection for Sight and Sound’s annual canvas of its contributors, 2010: The year in review, can already be already found online, while the Midnight Eye round-ups should be up for your perusal, fashionably later than most of our fellow movie websites, sometime in January. Meanwhile I’m faced with my usual dilemma of whether to try and tailor my selections according to the specific readership of each, or just cut and paste directly. One thing is sure – there’s no real need to come up with another variation on my selections here.

Before I continue, I’d also like to point out that this is not intended as any sort of end-of-year post. Things have been relatively quiet on this site while I’ve waited for the dust to settle down after Zipangu Fest, but I haven’t forgotten that I’ve plenty more to say on Jake West’s wonderful Video Nasties documentary and the other DVDs of Japanese experimental animation released by CALF.

Step Up 3D - maybe not the "quality" pic of 2010, but hey, it was fun!

Anyway, the primary purpose of this piece was basically to point you towards the Sight and Sound list, but I’d also like to use this opportunity to explain one of the more seemingly eccentric among my own choices, Step Up 3D. I’ll happily concede that this was not a “good” film in the way that Citizen Kane or, to cite a more current example, Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (so I’m told), are “good” films. My criteria for mentioning it were twofold. Firstly, while I think 2010 was generally a pretty unexciting year for cinema, the most significant aspect of it was the sheer volume of 3D releases and cumulative their box office share, a phenomenon that, prompted in no small measure by the enormous pop-cultural clout of Avatar, I attempted to track in some detail in a number of posts earlier this year. Look, for example, at the bewilderingly high returns of Resident Evil:Afterlife, or the budget-for-box-office profitability of StreetDance 3D and it is clear this is not something that’s going to go away in 2011. Of the numerous such titles I made it my business to go out and see, I deemed this title the most successful in its innovative use of the format.

I think the Chicago Tribune’s critic Michael Phillips best sums up my feelings when he describes it in his review as “a bit like watching a CinemaScope musical from the early 1950s but front to back rather than side to side, i.e., turned at a 90-degree angle.” Yes, the story had its loopholes, I won’t deny it, as did StreetDance 3D, Piranha 3D and lets face it, Avatar itself. And the characters were unbelievable and wafer thin. But putting all cynicism aside, for me the pure brio of scenes such as the impromptu Fred Astaire homage that came about midway through, whose rendering via a lengthy fluid one-take tracking shot provided a perfect showcase for this newly possible exploitation of screen depth, were as rousing and magical as, say, the opening reel of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Sadly, you’ll have to take my word for this if you want to catch up on the film “flat” at home, but for me it nevertheless provided a perfect antidote not only to the migraine-inducing edits of Cameron’s film, but also the soporific “contemplative” static long-shots so beloved of practitioners of a certain strain of international arthouse cinema that became referred to as “slow cinema” following Nick James’ provocative “Passive Aggressive” editorial in the April edition of Sight and Sound that appeared to call time on this tradition, some of which is excepted here. I don’t agree with everything James says, and it’s clear he doesn’t either, but at the same time, one has to admit he has a point…

The rekindled vogue for 3D has managed to avoid much in the way of serious analysis by magazines such as Sight and Sound, no doubt due to its exploitation primarily by certain forms of quite brazenly entertainment-oriented productions thus far, allowing the misapprehension to set in that it is only suitable for such films. Twaddle, I say! Imagine how a Mizoguchi film might look if he’d been able to go down this route. Lets see how our more inventive auteurs like Werner Herzog or Wim Wenders (Go! Go! Gaspar Noe!) make use of the added dimensions before we pronounce the technology’s latest incarnations dead in its infancy.

StreetDance 3D - a pretty good use of screen space.

My candid acknowledgement of the pleasures inherent in the cheesier end of the cinematic spectrum was at least shared by one other contributor to the S&S poll, Hannah Patterson, who cited “sloping off alone to watch StreetDance 3D in a morning screening (dance movies, a guilty pleasure) and finding three others in the audience – all teenage boys – who proceeded to dance in the aisle throughout” as one of the movie-going highlights of her year. This somewhat echoes my experiences too, watching both StreetDance 3D and Step Up 3D during afternoon screenings at the Peckham Multiplex, sitting among exactly the same type of teenage audiences the films were aimed at, all responded viscerally to the physicality expressed onscreen. For someone whose movie-watching is largely confined to sitting in austere press screening rooms among other jaded note-scribbling critics or wading through copious screeners hunting out increasingly more elusive gems for to show at festivals, it was a refreshing experience, and rekindled those sparks of adolescent passion that had led me down my particular route of cinephilia in the first place.

The fact is cinema may well be viewed as an art form, or it may equally be viewed in terms of escapist fantasy, but whichever way you look at it, it is first and foremost an industry. What has began to trouble me over the past few years is the relative dearth of a younger generation of viewers inhabiting the same venues or festivals as I do, ready to take up the pen or the camera and keep this whole thing going into the future. I remember the first thing I did when I moved to London in 1989 at the age of 18 was to make a beeline straight to the Scala in Kings Cross, where I began educating myself with double bills of directors as diverse as Pasolini and Russ Meyer, or heading out in big groups when I was a student to the local arthouse cinema in Brighton to watch films as impenetrably erudite as Peter Greenaway’s Prospero’s Books. Without getting too nostalgic about this, I’m wondering if this kind of audience is still there. Many of the venues for this kind of cinema aren’t any more. There might not have been any younger versions of myself at the screening of Step Up 3D either, but there were still people there at least, all having fun to boot.

They don't make them like this anymore... Prospero's Books

I guess I’m somewhat hampered by my London-centric viewpoint in all this. Cinema tickets in our capital are prohibitively expensive, and prices are only going to get a lot worse in the coming year with the Tory VAT rises. I can’t afford to go to the West End cinemas myself, which is why you’re more likely to find me in the Peckham Multiplex, where normal people can afford to treat cinema as a more habitual form of entertainment rather than need to save up for weeks to turn a trip to the Odeon Leicester Square into some sort of big night out. The number of films mentioned in the Sight and Sound poll provide ample proof that there’s a huge amount of titles worthy of further investigation, and I’d love to go and see them all, on a big screen, with a full audience, but I don’t know if most of them will play anywhere near me at a price I can afford. So for now I’m happy enough that films such as Step Up 3D and StreetDance 3D are out there getting people into cinemas and putting smiles on faces, fighting their respective corners amongst the numerous other avenues of entertainment that have arisen during the first decade of the twenty-first century that conspire to make film appreciation an atomised solitary experience rather than a communal one.

Talking of which, my opinions have also been solicited for another poll by Sight and Sound that will be appearing in the New Year – the top online videos of 2010. It’s an interesting indication perhaps of the role critics and curators are likely to play in the future. Rather than direct people to go and watch films that probably won’t be playing anywhere near them by the time they’ve heard about them, it is more like being the online visual equivalent of a DJ, or like curating ones own personal mini-film programme for people to enjoy in the privacy of their own homes; films that take as much of their meaning from the context in which they’re presented, the other titles they play alongside and the explanatory text that accompanies them.

Thanks to Adam Curtis for inviting me to The Office Party via his brilliantly pithy blog

So on that note I’d like to sign off with a link to Adam Curtis: The Medium and the Message on the BBC website (apologies to those readers outside of the UK who can’t access the films here). Documentary-maker Curtis’ various postings provide a masterclass in the savvy disinterment and dissection of long-forgotten news and documentary footage from the dim-yet-not-so-distant past in order to contextualise the present. Here’s one that particularly tickled my fanc as our new government strive to make this Christmas a particularly miserable one for students, public servants and much of the population at large alike - The Office Party from 1969. Not only a wonderful piece of social history, but just a damn amusing way to pass 30 minutes. Ho ho ho!

As you’ll have no doubt have gathered from this series of articles, unlike Roger Ebert and Mark Kermode, I am fascinated by the new wave of 3D releases, both in terms of aesthetics and industry trends, and so last weekend I indulged this fascination by going to see StreetDance 3D at the Peckham Multiplex and Toy Story 3D at the Empire Leicester Square, two very different films, both of which throw up very different issues. Judging by the parade of trailers before the screenings, it seems that Kermode is mistaken on the count that “3D has never been the future of cinema. It is, was, and always will be the past.” All of the animations previewed for release later this year are to be released in both 2D and 3D versions, so clearly there’s been enough invested in promoting this new format for exhibitors to pull out at this late stage in the game. In fact, Toy Story 3D’s Summer rival, Shrek Forever After, was premiering in the cinema next door at exactly the same time. Unlike the earlier boom in the 1950s or the 1980s revival, which in reality only ever amounted to a handful of titles like Jaws 3-D (1983) and Amityville 3-D (1983), there’s already a sizeable canon of films to analyse and, from the evidence of the two under discussion here, one can already detect signs of stylistic innovation.

I’m a little more sympathetic to Ebert’s claim that it is just a way for the industry to charge more for admissions. The Peckham Multiplex not only put a £1.50 surcharge on the ticket, they also forced me to buy the glasses, which cost another quid, although this at least means I can keep them for future presentations at this venue (Space Chimps 3D? Well, maybe one has to draw the line somewhere…) As an aside, the glasses provided to view the system used to project StreetDance 3D, RealD, appear to be incompatible with Toy Story’s Disney Digital 3-D system, so already we seem to be in a war of formats, although I assume that the projectors being rolled out across the world can handle both systems, and any differences between these formats are at the production level. There’s some info about this on Wikipedia, with RealD described as “the world’s most widely used technology for watching 3D movies in theatres and the cheapest to install and maintain,” while Disney Digital 3-D is actually a brand, “not a presentation nor a production format or technology. Films advertised as Disney Digital 3-D come from a number of sources, film, digital camera as well as animation software, and can be presented using any digital 3D technology.” I wonder what the projection technology actually was for Toy Story was then, seeing as my RealD glasses didn’t work for it?

Pixar's latest animated masterpiece, Toy Story 3D

The trouble most critics are likely to have with explaining the appeal of 3D is that it is often difficult to describe the aesthetic aspects of cinema in basic words. It is something one feels at a deeper level than words can often do justice to. It is also difficult to illustrate the formal aspects of 3D on a 2-dimensional screen, such as the one you’re looking at this article on now, and besides, publicity stills don’t always accurately represent the scenes as they appear in the actual film, nor can they convey movement. My ideas are therefore based largely on my impressions while watching the film.

There’s a further trade-off to these new productions that the widescreen formats never had to deal with – while CinemaScope titles eventually found themselves on television within the first decade of this new anamorphic projection system, reframed and re-cut to fit 4:3 screens, they were made to be shown in cinemas. As soon as widescreen became a standard but it was acknowledged that a great deal of viewers would watch the film on television, directors came up with strategies to limit this damage, by centrally positioning the characters in the frame, for example, so that it didn’t matter if the edges fell outside of the TV screen – many even oversaw the TV edits of their films. Now that widescreen TVs are the norm, reframing for domestic viewing is no longer an issue.

Comparing the switchover from standard to widescreen ratios with the adoption of full colour is also interesting. Colour was, perhaps to a lesser extent than 3D, also associated with added spectacle, arguably a needless luxury as far as most viewers were concerned, judging by the several decades it took to become a production standard, and not something that necessarily contributed to any sense of “realism”. Look back to the early Technicolor productions and you’ll see it was originally associated with non-realistic, fantasy genres such as animation, or musicals, while serious dramas such as On the Waterfront (1954) remained in monochrome. I think the contrast between the colour and monochrome sequences in The Wizard of Oz (1939) perfectly illustrates this point (made, not by me, but by Ed Buscombe in the essay “Sound and Colour.” in Movies and Methods vol. 2, ed. Bill Nichols, 1985).

A scene from Wizard of Oz demonstrating that colour most certainly was not equated to realism in its early applications.

A scene from Wizard of Oz demonstrating that colour most certainly was not equated to realism in its early applications.

It was several decades before colour became the norm for filmmakers, due to the cost of the film stock. If you remember that the BBC only began colour broadcasting in 1967, any films shown on UK TV would have been viewed in black and white anyway. It was after this point that the number of films actually produced in monochrome started to decline, with black and white films coming to be seen as old fashioned. Interestingly, the UK’s first colour TV broadcasts were matches in the Wimbledon tennis tournament (see more here), while the UK’s first 3D broadcast, on February 6 of this year, was also sport, the England Vs Wales rugby match, although it was mainly seen this way by viewers attending participating cinemas (see here). Still, with 3D ready flat-screen TVs now a reality, who knows how long it will be before such broadcasts become the norm? And what will this mean for cinema?

Twickenham Stadium, as seen by viewers at 40 Odeon and Cineworld cinemas on February 6, 2010

Twickenham Stadium, as seen by viewers at 40 Odeon and Cineworld cinemas on February 6, 2010

Still, at the moment, it is assumed that the majority of viewers for the latest wave of 3D titles such as those by Disney/Pixar will be watching the film at home, not projected in 3D. Here’s the compromise: films must be made that use the format in a way that persuades viewers it is worth paying that bit extra, and yet take care that their impact is not diminished on the flat screen.

This compromise is much in evidence in StreetDance 3D. Thinking about it a little more, this film is the first actual live-action film produced in 3D that I’ve caught in the cinema, distinguishing it from the other titles I’ve written about, which are either animations such as Coraline or Up, films which make heavy use of CG such as Avatar, or films which were rendered as 3D in post-production such as Clash of the Titans or Alice in Wonderland. For those who’ve not heard anything about it yet, it’s a pretty fascinating title, a British film realised on a relatively modest budget of £4.5m that took more at the UK box office than Ridley Scott’s new Robin Hood film (budget $200m+) and Prince of Persia ($150m) in the first week of its release on 21 May. It’ll no doubt do pretty good business internationally too, for a film of this scale. It’s already been sold to almost 30 countries. You can read more about this surprise box office success on the websites of The Guardian, The Telegraph and The Times, or indeed the film’s own website.

Britain's Got Talent's Diversity, one of the many charms of StreetDance 3D

Britain's Got Talent's Diversity, one of the many charms of StreetDance 3D

You won’t hear serious film critics talking much about the film though. It’s thoroughly lowbrow entertainment aimed at a teenage demographic, one of its hooks being the performances of Diversity, the East London street dance group that famously beat Susan Boyle to win last year’s season of the ITV competition Britain’s Got Talent. The plot isn’t much to write home about either: a young South London girl working at a sandwich bar leads her dance posse to success after drafting the failing students of a snooty ballet school, under the encouragement of their teacher, Charlotte Rampling (the only real name actor in the film). It’s an exuberant wish-fulfillment fantasy in the vein of the TV series Glee or Adrian Lyne’s Flashdance, a title from 1983 that wasn’t made in 3D. Lets face it, it’s really not aimed at people like me, but you may be surprised to hear it, I enjoyed its naive razzle-dazzle far more than I did Avatar.

Here  is a film that uses 3D in a totally different way from what we have been led to expect by previous releases. There are precious few moments of objects coming out of the screen at you, although a hat is flung out into our faces at the end of one early dance number, and there’s a riotous food fight in the ballet school’s cafeteria which I thought looked pretty good. What really impresses is the use of depth, the sense of a lived in space beyond the plane of the screen; the framing of shots along the ballet school corridor that stretches into the distance, the vistas of London bathed in a cosy sunset glow that evoke a city far different from the one of my daily experience. And then there are the dance scenes themselves, whether they take place in shopping malls, nightclubs or the ballet academy’s class room. These look best in static wide angle shots, which create a depth of field in which all of the dancers remain in focus. There’s no need to break down these scenes of action into bewildering flurries of MTV-style edits, although this has been the norm for these types of sequences since the 1980s, an aesthetic cultivated by the rise of the pop promo, and an aesthetic which the film struggles to resist. Can we imagine this sort of style applied to old-school martial arts films such as the finest work of Hong Kong’s Shaw Brothers, where the real-life gymnastic depicted on the screen are what causes viewers to sit up and gasp, rather than the fake CG-enhanced Matrix-styled sequences we’ve all become so inured to?

An impressive use of the screen depth in StreetDance 3D - the image remains in focus at all depths of field

An impressive use of the screen depth in StreetDance 3D - the image remains in focus at all depths of field

This is where the compromise come in, though, because as successful as it has been upon its theatrical release, a larger part of the film’s revenues are sure to come from DVD sales for people viewing it flat. The sensation of dancing bodies arranged and moving through a palpable volumetric space is not only sure to be lost on TV, it will also look decidedly unspectacular in comparison to films such as Flashdance, that ‘cheat’ by cutting up and reassembling the breathtaking real-life action of the performance in an attempt to create something more spectacular. Projected on 3D in the cinema, these straight filmed performances are impressive enough, they don’t need editing to make them look any more dynamic (and again, one is reminded of Jean-Luc Godard’s statement about cinema, that “Every edit is a lie”). We also have the luxury of allowing our eyes to roam around the various moving figures on the screen, be they in the background or the foreground. We don’t get this on the small screen.

Shots like this have a real sense of indepth dynamism to them, but how will they look on TV?

Shots like this have a real sense of indepth dynamism to them, but how will they look on TV?

Filmmakers working in 3D need to be mindful about such intrinsic aesthetic considerations though. For one thing, dazzling montages of short cuts can really give you a headache. Stereoscopic images might trick the brain into believing we’re looking through a window into the distance, but our eyes are still focussed on a flat screen a fixed distance away from our noses. Static shots allow us to take in the details across the whole scene. Moving shots give our eyes time to adjust to the illusion that we’re part of the scene. Rapid edits between shots of different focal lengths jar and confuse, which is why so many people claimed that Avatar hurt their eyes. They’re probably not lying.

This seems to present another interesting aspect of 3D. If you look closely at some of these screen shots, you’ll notice that they are composed in accordance with 2D film aesthetics. If the camera is focused closely on a foreground object or character, then the background is thrown out of focus. The use of narrow angle lenses strive for this very effect. Take a look at this shot of Carly in the foreground. It is clearly composed to draw the eye to the details of Carly’s face, and yet if this were reality, the viewer would also be able to change their focus onto the dancers behind her, which here remain a blur. Our sense of reality is shattered, as we are made aware of the constraints of the camera lens. Here, the use of focus serves the same effect as an edit. We are forced to concentrate on one specific detail, rather than look around the scene looking for other salient features that may, or may not, be a part of the narrative.

Nichola Burley as Carly, very much the centre of attention in this shot.

Nichola Burley as Carly, very much the centre of attention in this shot.

Compare this with the shot below. The ballet dancers are arranged in a straight line perpendicular to the camera, with each figure afforded equal prominence by the focal length of the lens. They are clearly the subject of our gaze. However, rather than depict an out-of-focus background space behind them, the painted backdrop prevents our eyes from looking past them. Some viewers might wonder what lies beyond the screen obstructing their view. Most, in reality, probably won’t, but at least they have the freedom to do so, rather than being made aware of the role of the camera in framing what they can or can’t see. They won’t feel like their missing something taking place in a background blur.

The dancers remain the foreground interest without the distraction of an out-of-focus backround

The dancers remain the foreground interest without the distraction of an out-of-focus backround

In my previous posting, I talked a little about staging in depth (profondeur du champ), which David Bordwell goes into inconsiderable detail in his book On the History of Film Style (1998). 3D is clearly ideally suited to this type of scenic composition. It encourages our brains to compose our own narratives from the details we can see on the screen, in the foreground and the background, and across the multitudes of depth planes in between. A long static shot of characters moving along the Z-axis, into or out of the screen, for example, down a corridor (inventively lit so that certain details are hidden by real-life phenomena such as shadows, we might imagine), along a road, or as in this case within the space of a stage, also seems a good use of 3D, as relative size is also a depth cue that works in tandem with stereoscopic vision, to heighten the sense of realism.

As well as causing huge headaches for 3D film viewers, rapid editing shifts the balance of power to the director and editor. Controlled focuses within narrow depths of field might not cause headaches, but they similarly highlight the viewer’s passive role in the film. From this I draw my conclusions that using long depths of field is the best use of the 3D screen. (There was another thing I noticed though: when the film cuts from mid shots or close-ups to the extremely wide shots of the dance group onscreen, it gave the odd effect of the figures appearing to shrink in size to Lilliputian dimensions.)

Camera lenses have certain physical constraints, particularly in different lighting conditions, so that if focusing on something particularly close in the foreground, the background will be out of focus. I don’t know as much as I’d like to on the issue of to what extent modern 3D camera equipment is limited by these real-world practicalities, but the field of CG animation most certainly isn’t. It should permit every depth plane of the image to be in as sharp a focus as the next. Toy Story 3D uses the 3D format in a way that is effective and yet doesn’t draw attention to itself. And yet if we look at this scene here, we can see Andy in sharp focus, holding Woody and Buzz Lightyear (slightly out of focus) and the background of his bedroom (out of focus). The virtual camera is emulating the focal depth of a real-life camera.

An example of CG animation emulating the effect of the camera. Note intentional emulation of a narrow depth of field that throws the background out of focus

An example of CG animation emulating the effect of the camera. Note intentional emulation of a narrow depth of field that throws the background out of focus

One of the things I’ve often mentioned as strange about CG animation is that in its attempts to be realistic, it emulates camera-lens realism, introducing such details as lens flares and camera judders in action sequences. But the thing is, it doesn’t have to replicate the same sense of depth of field. This is an stylistic choice. This scene (perhaps not the best example, but the best I could find on the web, and again, I make the point that publicity stills might not accurately reflect how the scene looks in the film) could have been rendered so that everything would be in perfect focus. I don’t intend this as a criticism of the film (which, like all of Pixar’s releases, raises the bar for CG animation even further). For all I know, it might look really strange if everything was in totally sharp focus, perhaps because viewers are habituated to a lens-based reality in cinema.

Pixar's inventive 3D short animation Day&Night

This is just a point to ponder, and it applies to live-action too. If the backgrounds of StreetDance 3D were in completely sharp focus in the close-up scenes of the characters, would this look really bizarre too? I’ve no answer to this, but aside from my observations that I found the wide-angle shots the most impressive, the point I am making is that 3D makes possible a radically different onscreen reality than that which we have become accustomed to in cinema. That animators are already beginning to explore its potentials is evidenced by the short animation Day & Night that accompanies Toy Story 3D, which I found fascinating. I can’t sum up its experimental approach of juxtaposing 2D and 3D any more succinctly than its Wikipedia entry, which describes its approach thus: “The insides of the characters are computer animated, the use of a masking technique allows the 2D characters to be windows into a 3D CGI day or night world inside them.”

Links to the rest of these articles:

Cinematism, Realism, and Spectacle part 1: Avatar

Cinematism, Realism, and Spectacle part 2: Paradoxes of Visual Knowledge

Cinematism, Realism, and Spectacle part 3: Welcome to the Feelies

Cinematism, Realism, and Spectacle part 4: 3D or not 3D?

Cinematism, Realism, and Spectacle part 5: A Joyride to Nowhere?