Since the beginning of the 60s, Katz has been quoting the oversized formats of large - scale Pepsi and Lucky Strike advertisements and the dramatic
compositions of film directors like Ingmar Bergman and Michelangelo Antonioni.
Not exact matches
Director Pierre De Moro does a good job
of keeping the action moving over the 95 - minute run time, and the fact that Scream Factory's Blu - ray is something
of a Frankenstein monster in its
composition speaks volumes for the
film holding together as well as it does (aesthetically, anyway).
Disc 1 contains an excellent transfer
of the
film, capturing the
director and cinematographer's chiaroscuro lighting scheme, which combines various shades
of darkness with stylish sets and
compositions reminiscent
of key comic book artists.
The White Ribbon's blend
of formal, poetic
compositions and hushed, simmering drama reminded me variously
of Malick and Bergman, and if the picture finally does not quite achieve the level
of a masterpiece, this may be down to the fact that I've always found Haneke to be a cold, stern and aloof
director; the creator
of films that I can admire but never love.
It's probably Mamet's finest
film as a
director, his widescreen
composition is wonderful — there's this one shot where Emily Mortimer's head, in profile, sits in the center
of the screen while she talks and it's exceptional.
If anything, there seems to be a laziness in the
director's efforts on this one, as the
film feels like a pastiche
of Spielbergian tropes and visual
compositions pulled from Lincoln, Catch Me If You Can, The Terminal and Munich, to name a few.
The
director and his DP, Harris Savides, shot the movie largely on digital, but the
film so often favours steady, patiently held
compositions that allow its actors to move around within the frame and interact with each other, showing spatial relations in much the same way that Fincher is drawing connections between the facts
of the case.