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MAP 2 : Online Research Assessment Item

Online Research Presentation

Composition

 

The written words from the script can be enhanced and visually represented by the composition of a cinematic/photographic shot. (UTS 2008, 1) How it is framed and what elements are being manipulated help to add layers of meaning which may be used to evoke emotion and platform connotations.

A good quality frame embodies a subject with the application of the Rule of Thirds - this classic rule suggests that the centre of the camera’s attention is one-third of the way down from the top of the shot. With the exception of titles, composition should not be perfectly symmetrical, but should rather balance the filled and empty space.

When framing people by placing someone too high or too low in the frame, the individual can be made to seem taller or shorter than s/he actually is. (Smith 2006) This can be used to project a sense of narrative furtherance. The audience is placed in a position where their perspective has been shifted so to match the character’s line of view. A character’s understanding of its surrounding and concurrently, the elements that may be used by the director are translated to the audience with this strategic framing technique. For example, two individuals may be standing. They are facing each other. One character is the protagonist – who for the sake of this example sits in the dominant position, whilst the other is the antagonist. Clever framing of the shot to actually represent the power relationship of the two can be achieved if the dominant persona is deliberately placed higher in the frame than the alternate character. This creates an illusion of differing heights, where one is significantly greater. Inherently, the audience interprets this visual imbalance from the awkward angle. An innate sense of unease, and subsequently nervousness, tension, discomfort is drawn from the audience if the shot has framed the full face of the antagonist, and contrarily, the exude of power, strength and fearlessness may be connoted if the protagonist is framed.

The expression of the dynamics of the relationship through purposeful compositions further complements the shot’s intended mood, especially when coupled with particular shadow and lighting which inarguably composes the nature of the shot. The audience is made to realise the subject’s wavelength of thought or their disposition. A cinematic example may be called upon from the film, ‘Blade Runner’.

 

In this film, shadow and/or lighting effectively cloaks lurking figures and shrouds protagonists in protective pockets of darkness. Lighting is crucial in the establishment of atmosphere and meaning within a scene. Besides the predominant use of shadows and silhouettes, there is also the jarring use of bright, stabbing shafts of neon lights and searchlights. It is often a means of creating impressions of size, importance and power.

 

Deckhard (Harrison Ford) is essentially the most illuminated element in this frame but is still concealed in the shadow to emit a sense of mystery and danger. The light reflects from his jacket and the gun, however the gun is blurred so the attention is drawn toward the character itself. The result of this reflection is an impression of a strong or important character. He is positioned in the centre of the screen and features as the largest element which furthers this notion.

The composition within a picture frame strives to depict the focus of the art piece (whether it be a photograph, film, etc). A director’s aim is to specify for the viewer a point of interest. This may be a frame which establishes the setting for the piece, from which future actions will take place (Media 2007). A frame may also be deliberately utilised to initiate/elaborate details of the character/subject – addressed familiarities of which will be what the audience will refer back to. A frame is presented with various manipulated camera angles. There is a basic sequence (Ilchenko 2004) that works effectively to establish an action, the subject’s significance to it or vice versa, and to build audience rapport. This sequence consists of long shots, medium shots and closeup shots.

Long shot

 

Medium shot

Close Up Shot

 

This simple example with a trolley as a subject has been visually introduced through 3 different camera angles. The first image, which is the long shot, shows the entire scene area where the action may take place. The audience is acquainted with this establishing shot, familiarising themselves with the overall appearance and location within the scene. The composition of a long shot gives room for the subject to move about – this action is then accentuated by the succeeding shots; immediately following is the medium shot. The medium shot narrows the centre of interest, this being the trolley in this situation, and develops more of the potential plot line by showing a clearer view of the physical appearance, or movements and in the case of live action films, the facial expressions of actors. The final close up shot fills a frame with the most vital part of a scene, ordinarily including only the action of primary interest. Details of the scene and significant incidences are highlighted through the close up shot, helping to vitalise the film’s setting and narrative simultaneously.

 

The composition of an image can evidently portray meaning for a film’s narrative, setting and mood. It is a strategic tool used to outline character nuances, relationships between subjects, significances of actions to the subject and/or it’s environment and to appeal to audience interest. Essentially the layout of an image, composition helps to explain to the audience what is IN a shot and HOW it’s presented so as to deliver the director’s intentions.of what a film is about.

 

Reference List

(Smith 1980 – 2006; Ilchenko 2003-2004; Media 2007; UTS 2008)

 

Ilchenko, E. (2003-2004). “Photo Composition Articles.”   Retrieved 1-11-08, 2008, from http://photoinf.com/General/NAVY/Composition_and_Basic_shots_or_sequences.htm.

           

Media, W. (2007). “Framing.”   Retrieved 31-10-08, 2008, from http://www.mediacollege.com/video/camera/tutorial/01-framing.html.

           

Smith, R. I. G. (1980 – 2006, 2006). “Composition and Camera Movement.”   Retrieved 1-11-08, 2008, from http://www.tv-handbook.com/Composition%20and%20Camera%20Movement.html.

           

UTS (2008). MAP1 Assessment Guideline. Sydney: 1.

           

 

I am Laurella-Crystal Hampden.

I have not the power of a grenade, nor even pistol.

I didn’t hope to choose between my brother and my duty to fight.

It has been approximately 20 years since I last saw him and back then, we were barely teenagers. Developing our own independence came easily when we both set forth to participate in our respective agoges. This is where we perfunctorily trained ourselves in the bid to reach our peak physical conditions. We had all lost touch with each other, especially with Nathaniel who had fallen severely ill; even reaching temporary blindness at one point. After quickly making a visit to the Healers with him, we were devastated to discover that Nathaniel would be unable to take part in the traditional orientation process which would enlist him into the defence force – upon hearing this, we were certain that Satan had signed his mark on Nathanial which would whisk him instantly away to a shunned life. It was impossible that any young individual, especially one whom was male, could be refused from their destiny of fighting bravely for their nation. Finding that he was no longer of use, he joined the rest of the variously disabled citizens in exile. Contact with him was understandably difficult; even the slightest hint from either party communicating would send forth the “innocent” party to the road where the “punished” had been sent to come to terms with their fate.

Concurrently, Joseph had enrolled himself to a different sort of agoge; an agoge which had him sign himself a deal that would eternally discontinue the connection between him and the Polyneisians. Joseph had always been the more radical brother – the type who’d refused to return home from Jarring Training until it was atleast several hours past the first call back. No one thought twice about this, as everyone considered his behaviour the sort which could pass as simply one of supreme commitment. Still, I had often noticed during his later form years that he’d become distant to the rest of us. His actions soon no longer could be reasoned down to youthful defiance, but of dangerous dark ambition. Fighting for the Polyneisian state was no longer on par with his values, his beliefs, his psyche.

So bearing all this in mind, his unannounced appearance at the extinguished village came to my attention that day was coupled with extreme wariness; of what his motives might’ve been, I was still unsure. It seemed unlikely that he would attack me…but then his disposition had indeed, vastly changed from what I knew of it 20 years ago. It is currently a period of uncertainty and anxiety, reflected most definitely in the rhythms of the world that I’m inhabiting now.

I know I must stop Joseph in order to fulfil the decrees of nation law – protect the state: the state is your family – but I must enlist in the power of a beast hex in order to come even remotely close to succeeding.

I have trouble ressurecting.

I doubt my call of duty.

There is always a way out – every friendly exit sign comes with a light attached to guide the way. The call of duty for me comes to my attention; however, there is a need for re-evaluation. For what is the appropriate thing to do when your family gets into the sticky business? Is your family worth more than the nation. The very notion of protecting the nation has been indoctrinated so deep into everyone’s conscience, that there leaves absolutely no room to defy it. It almost does not require a second thought, to intrinsically believe that your country is your family.

Find me the means to an end to the confusion that surrounds this conundrum.

I am not as interactive as I’d like to be.

I’ve been in contact with Triden, the King, throughout the whole of my journey. (We’ve been communicating via cyber-com). He’s been checking up on my progress, which I suppose I cannot hold him against for as he did invest almost ю*60,000 in this initiative.

He’s been requesting for my assistance for various state initiatives.

*ю = equivalent to $5000

I cannot roll like a hedgehog.

Today I wake up to the sound of chirping. There is a promise of a violet sky today. The grass is the colour of emerald green; the sky, a cerulean blue.

I climbed out of bed today; the bed that is the small patch of grass sitting under the cover of a large oak tree. It is one of the few spots which dodges the incessant rain that has fallen from the past few days. My Arabian robe has grown damp; its cotton fusing with the early morning dew, and I shiver – half from the cutting whip of the cold air and half from the anticipation I now feel for the day’s offer of imminence.

I decide to take a stroll. Breathing in the smells emanating from the greenery and from the gentle coloured daisies and pastel flavoured tulips, I wander over to where the hills dance with the arch of the sunrise. I near the peak, look down ahead of me, and almost topple over from the sheer impact of the image before me. What normally stood a small local village was now the product of pure destruction. What normally would have been the sounds of busy carts being drawn across to the marketplace is now replaced with despair. The huts have been torn down, the stalls of the market have been overturned, and the sight of another soul rests in dissipation.

I pick through a pile of rubble until I sense movement beside me. Instinctively, I feel the knot of cautiousness; my hand already touching on the hilt of my sword. Before I can even tune into searching for the source of disturbance, the skulker pounces out. The surprise throws me back onto the barky remains on the ground. I recover quickly as I scramble to my feet, only to see the face of the villain. To my surprise, it is not a wretched ogre, nor even a rogue corpse.

It is my brother, Joseph.

I have no lightsaber.

Fortian Mote

Originally uploaded by lchampden

Much of the day was spent skulking around the round tower building which sits off the shore of Geransius. There was no sign of too many by-passers on the other side of the Fortian Mote. It gave me time to reminisce about the trials of my life.

I let my mind wander back to the day I took another human’s life. That day has been undesirably etched into my mind. It might not have been that long ago, come to think of it. Death is not uncommon; the average person does not know a life expectancy of more than 40 years – understandable we do live the life of ultimate self-sacrifice to our state.

It was conditioned in us that death was a matter of unimportance.

Death. That was omnipresent in the Battle of Vernese, where almost 60,000 fighters valiantly contested with their own lives. The epic amount of personnel formed confusion over which soldier was on who’s side…too many people died for reasons that were unruly – everyone just wanted to kill someone else.

That day sketches out in my mind in muddy colour and is revived with the memories of the desperately charged yells, frenzied hysteria, fall of weaponry and shrieks of pain. How can anyone even begin to overlook those overbearing sufferings – how can we sell a human’s life away like that?

This morning, I sledged yet another being’s life. The wizard had told me that under the principals that had been embedded into our lives for over 5000 years, we should move on and be unaffected by death. ‘Be indifferent to human life,’ was what he said. I don’t think that’s possible if you are capable of holding any one human dear. All you need is one other.

I say my prayers for the blessed souls that fall victim to death.

I must stay focused to each day, though. Another one crosses itself off from this operation. It has been 5 months and I’ve walked through endless amounts of dim passageways; everytime with a hope of finding an illumination in the mystery that is the Theonopolian armour location. The end of this particular trial would see me walking away from this anarchy.

Still, I know cannot let Triden down.

I don’t think I have the strength

It’s been an arduous day. I can barely lift the muscles in my arms which have been worn down from the never-ending situations I’ve had to slice down a nymph or throw off an ogre’s hex. The battle to Theonopolis has taken far greater time than was originally planned. So I suppose this quest aimed at bringing back some armour for the Poliniesen family but I suspect a different underlying agenda? For a bunch of rich old royals, they are no different to probably their ancestors who fought their scallywags off to bring home some metal and chicks. I do remember the good old days when I was too young to even notice any of their scandalous deviousness, and all that I had to worry about was keeping up with my brothers Joseph and Nathaniel. The nannies (who were grossly short-staffed) were often busy and I suppose they didn’t get to observe us very closely. If they did, they would’ve noticed that my childhood consisted of many instances of pot banging, and perhaps some sword and duelling chaos and barely any stitching, garment washing or cabbage chopping.

From that very first day where I made the monumental decision of discarding the wooden spoon for the wooden dagger, it has been preserved in me to join the boys in fighting the various rogues and generally bad people. It made sense to me that combat fighting would be more fun than poaching the chicken and bending over the basin to clear up the dirt from the dishes that had been spat on by the sort of people I knew not ever to become. Yes, Joseph and Nath weren’t too pleased – even though they were deathly aware I had beaten them many a time in combat but the fact that I could still wear a skirt was enough for them to exclude me from their games. Being the only girl of the family was difficult enough – twas only when I was a tad bit older that I realised the meaning behind the patriarchal system. You can hardly blame me for this unawareness considering that I busily grew up believing that all I ever had to do in life was skilfully push past two brown headed boys in whatever contest that we’d fallen into.

This juvenile kafuffle did do one thing though: it provided for the foundations required for the agoge. Many, many long hours were spent studying the landscape for any sign of movement (simulated skulks of the opponent). We were chiselled with the habit of preparing for any given stranger and tirelessly prepared for instances in the future where we’d have to stun or charge at them whilst being stealthy and inconspicuous.

I cannot deny that it was a lonely existence. We were disciplined to communally fight, but back in the barracks, during late nights, feeling abandonment was not uncommon…

Now I sit, propped against this thousand year old tree, where I feel weary from the action packed tale that I’ve digressed upon. There is a sense of exhaustion which hasn’t just simply originated from the massive war against the fiery-eyed fiends – although I do have to recharge my energy with possibly a sip from the rejuvenation shrine over at Thebei – but rather, from this life, in general, that demands great commitment and nationalistic values.

Ah, atleast I know I will die a troop in the guild of fighters and not die-hard scraping the floors with my knees buried in urine. So there’s the bright side.

I am not a hero.

Why spend the first x minutes of meeting someone telling them what you are? Maybe it’d be more useful telling someone the things that you aren’t.

I am not a hero.

It is quite messy to attempt to find direction in an environment that does not offer any form of guidance. All I may see most days are long dark ancient stoned hallways - perhaps with a slither of light when rounding a corner which flitters through a rustic iron window.