The same is true with sounds, with a simple click, through the bird song to orchestral overtures and the mumble pop song the can all conjure up a multitude of emotions and because there has never been any serious development in supplement the cinema experience with the smell it is with the soundtrack filmmakers enhance their movies.

In her article on the BBC Website “How do filmmakers manipulate our emotions with music?” Helen Stewart cites several examples of how music and in lack of it has been used to sway the audience’s emotion in certain ways. For example, Bette Davis knew that her role in Dark Victory was potentially Oscar material playing a dying heiress; however, she knew that the material was going greatly advanced as the movie was to be scored by Max Steiner who had previously written one of the cinemas first bespoke scores for King Kong. That score which had given so much emotion to the film that audiences were sympathetic to a giant ape.(Stewart, 2013)

There are other examples over the years of use that have brought extra tension to a scene, the shower scene in Hitchcock’s Psycho with its stabbing jarring violin now which combined with the inspired editing leaves the audience in no doubt as to what is happening.  However, the scene in The Godfather where Michael shoots his father’s enemies it not music that toys with our emotions but the rattle of a passing train which adds to Michaels panic and urgency.

The addition of a score as we have discussed above and earlier in the course plays with the audience’s emotions and guides them as they watch the narrative unfold; however they also become part of the audiences memories and total viewing experience – because like the food smells mentioned above they bring back memories. I personally cannot hear the opening fanfare from Star Wars without being immediately being thrown back to being a seven-year-old in the cinema seeing it for the first time or hear iconic theme from The Magnificent Seven and again I’m around eleven on a Sunday afternoon suddenly realising that there was more to cinema than World War Two films. This emotional touchstone to culture has had it boundaries pushed over last 30 years or so with the pop song soundtrack.

As mentioned in the course notes, The Graduate was the first film to fully utilise existing songs in the soundtrack of the film to help drive the narrative, however, these songs (in the case of The Graduate all by Simon & Garfunkel) became inseparable from the film. This is a trend that has grown and over the years with more and more film using these as touchstones to our emotions. In some lesser known songs are picked up and given a who new lease of life “Little Green Bag” by George Baker Selection is inseparable from the open segment of Reservoir Dogs

Others play on our memories outside of the cinema and bring is closer to the character for example the jukebox soundtrack of Marvel Guardians of the Galaxy. The solitary cassette of an eclectic mix of 70’s and 80’s music is main protagonist Peter Quills only link to his mother, but the songs chosen are “cheesy pop classics” which draw on our own emotions and memories and bring is closer to Peter and also forever links these songs with the movie.

To wrap up this post I want to share a moment in a film that I think perfectly show a what would be a great set piece is elevated by the perfect choice of soundtrack and believe it speaks for itself.

Bibliography

Stewart, H. (2013). How film music manipulates emotions. [online] BBC Arts & Culture. Available at: http://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/0/24083243 [Accessed 18 Jul. 2017].

YouTube. (2014). X Men Days Of the Future Past QuickSilver Scene HD. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1NnyVc8r2SM&feature=youtu.be [Accessed 18 Jul. 2017].

YouTube. (2011). Reservoir Dogs Opening Titles [Full HD]. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q2Xi3ioasik&feature=youtu.be [Accessed 18 Jul. 2017].

YouTube. (2015). Guardians of the Galaxy – Come and get your love – dance scene [HQ]. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_jRQBGKPaA&feature=youtu.be [Accessed 18 Jul. 2017].

Introduction

The film Maps to the Stars (Cronenberg, 2014) is a darkly dramatic tale about a seemingly random collection of Hollywood personalities and their families. It is categorised as comedy/ drama in the IMDb listing (IMDb, 2017) but in fact, there are elements of the horror genre as well, including ghostly scenes featuring the dead mother of the main character and some horrific murders. These touches echo Cronenberg’s earlier work in the horror genre and they illustrate one of his key cinematic aims, namely to use cinematic technology “to create unsettling and unreal effects in the consciousness of the viewer” (O’Neill, 1996). This essay considers some critical reactions and social network responses to the film, before reflecting on the nature and impact of the expanded possibilities that now exist for studying Hollywood in the light of our own personal relationship with the moving image and social networks.

Critical Reaction to the Film

Maps to the Stars (Cronenberg, 2014) was well received by the film establishment and received several awards, including Best Actress Award for Julianne Moore at the 2014 Cannes film festival. In the British press, the film was described as “a grotesque ghost story about the selective memory of the movies” (Collin, 2014), with some appreciation of the way it reflects and critiques the narcissistic nature of the cinema world in and around Hollywood.

A more critical view from America describes the film as “part satire, part soap opera, part ghost story, and totally moronic” (Reed, 2015), but this negative evaluation reveals a failure to appreciate the deliberate ambiguity and narrative complexity in this film. Reed (2015) cites a lack of logic in the actions of the characters, fragmented plot lines with unlikely twists, “name-dropping, sex orgies, cult-therapists and contrived eccentrics”.

These quirky and highly intertextual features are not evidence of weak cinematography, but rather they are hallmarks of the post-modern film, in which the spectator is invited to take an active part in a game with the filmmaker (Phillips, 2011). Spectators are invited to appreciate the deliberate disjunctions and ironic quotations from other films, other genres, and contemporary popular culture. Uncertainty is a device that is used by Cronenberg to confound the expectations of the audience, and make viewers “unravel the scenes for themselves” (Etherington-Wright and Doughty, 2011). Many viewers will enjoy filling in the missing connections and contributing their own creative understandings using their own experiences, analogies and expectations from a wide range of other sources.  This adds to the richness of the viewing experience and makes for interesting conversations between viewers who have had different past experiences of moving images. Viewers who expect the more linear storylines and consistent characterisations in the classical Hollywood film tradition will, however, be disappointed, and find the film very puzzling indeed.

Response to the Film in Social Networks

Personal responses to the film, as documented in social media comments and reviews, were also polarised, ranging from the uncomprehending “WTF is going on” (Agent SEPTEMBER, 2015) to complaints about the self-centeredness, and immorality, of the Hollywood location, and praise for the manic weirdness of the acting, as well as some appreciation of Cronenberg’s directorial style. Comments and questions about the musical score and the appearance of the actors also abound, as individual viewers follow up their own personal lines of interest.

There are plenty of references in the film that Social Media posts will eagerly comment upon, including a wonderful cameo role by Carrie Fisher, playing herself, which echoes the science fiction reference in the film’s title, but also picks up the dominant theme of the ageing actress who looks back on her, and Hollywood’s, glorious past. The notion of a “map of the stars” conjures up an intergalactic voyage, as well as a tour around Hollywood properties, spotting the places where famous people from the world of cinema are living, or have lived in the past. This preoccupation with celebrities and fandom blurs the boundary between film and reality, and Carrie Fisher personifies this duality and these multiple levels of interpretation in the film.

Reflection on Context in Which We Can Now Study Hollywood

The main conclusion that can be drawn from this brief analysis is that the explosion of new technologies, including new screen formats and new ways of distributing commercial cinema, has engendered a vast, and networked, viewing public that is “active, attentive and engaged” (Vernallis, 2013, p. 729). It is no longer just the act of going to the local cinema, or even hiring a video to view at home, that characterises film consumption, but rather there is a vast and digitally enabled viewing public that engages much more actively using social media. This results in a visual and audio aesthetic that reaches across different platforms and genres, and different periods of cinema history, through all kinds of formal and informal networks.

For the scholar of cinema, professional reviews by film critics now stand alongside reviews made by fans, or even casual film viewers. Online conversations, which may include multi-media parodies and pastiches, highlight the aspects of cinema that resonate with the wider public, and these may be very different from those that are emphasised in professional film criticism.  This film defies tradition, and models emerging ways of viewing Hollywood, its people, and its cinematic outputs. A key insight from Vernallis (2013) is that “Films now are not so much about story as about pathway.” In our hyper-connected world, people are dipping into and out of different activities, accessing social media while working, playing games or viewing videos in between short bursts of study, constantly sending each other messages and images, or posting comments and tweets so that daily experience becomes like a journey through a labyrinth of sensory input. Cronenberg’s film taps it to this postmodern “culture of stylistic surface rootlessness” (Cousins, 2006).

When we study cinema today, all of this complex interaction in relation to a film can be tracked and analysed, showing how meanings are interpreted, or rejected, or modified, or re-created, and exchanged by individuals in their different groups and networks. Failure to understand is also documented, along with the negative reactions of different segments of the audience. Studying these online phenomena offers new avenues for research into film, and promises to open up whole new theories and insights that would not have been possible in previous times, when cinema criticism was an activity carried out only by academic elites.

Biblography

Agent SEPTEMBER [YouTube comment from] (2015)Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsFnwgUlrxs [Accessed 7 July 2017]

Collin, R. (2014) Maps to the Stars, review: ‘tremendous’. The Telegraph (26 September). Available at: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/film/filmreviews/11121111/Maps-to-the-Stars-review-tremendous.html [Accessed 4 July 2017].

Cousins, M. (2006) The Story of Film. London: Pavilion Books.

Cronenberg, D. (2014) Maps to the Stars. [film] UK/Canada: Prospero Pictures.

Etherington-Wright, C. and Doughty, R. (2011) Understanding Film Studies. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

IMDb (2017) Maps to the Stars. Available at: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2172584/ [Accessed 4 July 2017].

O’Neill, E. R. (1996) David Cronenberg. In G. Nowell-Smith (Ed.), The Oxford History of World Cinema. Oxford: Oxford University Press, p. 736.

Phillips, P. (2011) Spectator, audience and response. In J. Nelmes (Ed.), Introduction to Film Studies. Fifth edition. Abingdon: Routledge, pp. 113-141.

Reed, R. (2015) Fresh from her Oscar win, Julianne Moore strikes out in ‘Maps to the Stars’. New York Observer (25 February). Available at: http://observer.com/2015/02/fresh-from-her-oscar-win-julianne-moore-strikes-out-in-maps-to-the-stars/ [Accessed 4 July 2017].

Vernallis, C. (2013) Accelerated Aesthetics: A new lexicon of time, space and rhythm. In C. Vernallis, A. Herzog and J. Richardson (Eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Sound and Image in Digital Media. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 707-731.

Modern cinema is a highly complex entity, drawing upon a culture that is simultaneously embedded in and underpins film and how it relates to its contemporaneous audience. This has been exacerbated by the rise of digital technologies and communicative channels like the Internet. Nelmes (2012) asserts that access to films via the Internet has opened up a new world to audiences, providing a rapid means of exploring movies by popular and independent filmmakers alike, thus allowing viewers to choose “…surrendering oneself to the pleasures of the big screen.” In effect, the Internet provides a means of film becoming pervasive and challenging the parameters of how, why and what we watch on a daily basis, along with social media as a form of communicative interaction. This all contributes to a climate in which cinema looks directly at itself and mythologises the process of filmmaking in that it records and interprets reality (Ward, 2012). This post will examine this, identifying examples of ways in which cinema looks at itself and the extent to which the filmmaking process may be mythologised or distorted. Starting with :: kogonada’s Eyes of Hitchcock, this will be done in order to examine the thesis that narcissism is a key element of the process, allowing cinema to look inwards and reflect on itself in a wide range of ways.

Eyes of Hitchcock from Criterion Collection on Vimeo.

:: kogonada’s Eyes of Hitchcock was posted online in the Criterion Collection 2014 and literally features a series of images from Hitchcock movies that focus on close up reaction shots. It is under two minutes in duration but it is extremely powerful as a result of the way in which it has been edited together, with each split second moment capture being repeated to give a pulsing effect. Indeed, :: kogonada’s work is visually stimulating and seems to embark upon an adventure that facilitates discovery, presenting an alternative modernity that is achieved via the juxtaposition of images to find meaning and communicative points of interest (Filmmaker, 2014). Furthermore, here cinema is clearly reflecting back upon itself via the editing of multiple iconic shots together in a single short, catapulting its narcissism into the fourth dimension whilst disrupting conventional meaning making and linear storytelling. It is, however, appropriate that the filmmaker uses Hitchcock to do so and is perhaps a very deliberate decision when the notion that it is inevitable that film reflects upon itself via its own philosophical leanings is taken into account (Rothman, 2006). Indeed, Hitchcock held the conviction that film was art and displayed a modernist self-consciousness, presenting the individual looking out at the world from behind the self whilst also automatically displacing the audience in terms of what is projected on screen (Rothman, 2006). This emphasises the complexity of the medium in the modern era and the way in which the self is situated at the very heart of cinema but also questions the authenticity of film and also of the self.

There are other means of examining the culture of filmmaking, with Francois Truffaut’s Day for Night (1973) and Robert Altman’s The Player (1992) providing opportunities to do so. Both movies focus on the process of filmmaking from an insider’s perspective, framing the relationships between those in front of and behind the camera in a satirical and wholly fictional way. However, in doing so, cinema clearly reflects upon itself because it “…bridges a gap between the self and the limitless whole… In an oscillation between innovation and industrial co-optation, between invention and repetition, cinema makes itself part of us, literally imprinting itself upon out retinas and lingering there” (Villarejo, 2013). Taking The Player specifically, Altman’s movie clearly satirises the movie industry, looking inward and examining the stresses and pressure of the industry as well as the way in which it has a tendency to dramatise events, which is certainly evidenced by the pitch made by Mill by Levy for a movie that perfectly imitated life. The implication here is that art imitates life, reflecting narcissistically upon real life and commenting on the somewhat indulgent facade of the movie industry. This is completely different to the approach taken by :: kogonada but emphasises the multitude of angles via which modern cinema may reflect upon itself.

Cinema may also reflect upon itself indirectly by embracing its role as a mediator of societal angst. For example, in relation to the 2012 Olympics opening ceremony, director Danny Boyle stated that “[w]e have a very distorted impression of what’s going on now and our fundamental values are being challenged” (quoted on Kermode & May, 2017, 01:29-01:45). He notes that the media have a tendency to home in on pessimistic perspectives of events, that stories focus on the negatives, which translates into the extent to which movies and other media products are able to faithfully and honestly represent what is going on in the world at any given time. This only leads to modern cinema reflecting upon itself when important figures like Boyle utilise digital media to form complex structures that amplify, alternate and repeat visual representations under digital technologies (Elsaesser, 2013). In this sense, the reflection of modern cinema upon itself is delimited by digital media and the communication channels that are facilitated by it. In this sense, cinema is certainly mythologised to an extent but there is certainly a sense of narcissism here as it achieves that status via the contributions of filmmakers.

In conclusion, the analysis here examines how modern cinema reflects upon itself, noting that it does so in a variety of ways as a result of the dynamic nature of the industry and its willingness to reflect upon the process of filmmaking as much as those who provide cinematic products for the ever-expanding audiences that consume the products. There are certainly elements of narcissism present as a result of the self-conscious reflections of filmmakers on the world as they see it, thus presenting a given perspective. The cultural filmmaking process is extended by the direct reflection on the production of films and how they are designed to convey messages and ideas to the audience. As such, narcissism is a key element of the process, allowing cinema to look inwards and reflect on itself in a wide range of ways

Bibliography

Day for Night, (1973). [Film] Dir. by F. Truffaut. France: Columbia Pictures.

Elsaesser, T., (2013). Digital Cinema: Convergence or Contradiction? In C. Vernallis & A. Herzog eds. Oxford Handbook of Sound and Image in Digital Media. Oxford: Oxford University Press

Eyes of Hitchcock, (2014). [Short Film] Dir. by :: kogonada. Vimeo. [Online] Available at: https://vimeo.com/107270525# [Accessed 2 July 2017].

Filmmaker, (2014). :: kogonada. Filmmaker Magazine. [Online] Available at: http://filmmakermagazine.com/people/kogonada/#.WVR9JBOGPMV [Accessed 2 July 2017].

Kermode, M. & Mayo, S., (2017). Danny Boyle Interview. Radio 5. [Online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DowkdqVr0lA [Accessed 2 July 2017].

Nelmes, J., (2012). Introduction. In J. Nelmes ed. Introduction to Film Studies. Abingdon: Routledge, pp. xxi-xxx.

Rothman, W., (2006). Film, Modernity, Cavell. In M. Pomerance ed. Cinema & Modernity. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, pp. 316-332.

The Player, (1992). [Film] Dir. by R. Altman. USA: Fine Line Features.

Villarejo, A., (2013). Film Studies: The Basics. Abingdon: Routledge.

Ward, P., (2012). The Documentary Form. In J. Nelmes ed. Introduction to Film Studies. Abingdon: Routledge, pp. 209-228.

The Go Between

P. Hartley’s The Go Between (1953) and its film adaptation, which was released in 1971 and directed by Joseph Losey, differ in terms of the context of the start of the movie and the first two chapters of the novel. The novel is narrated by Leo Colston, an elderly man who recounts his memories of visiting Marcus Maudsley, a school friend. The narrative itself is highly nostalgic and extremely detailed, establishing the context of the visit and providing an insight into who Leo actually was, evoking a response from readers that is emotive and tethered to his personal tragedies. Similarly, the reader is encouraged to examine Leo’s experience via his perspective: “…my buried memories of Brandham Hall are like the effects of chiaroscuro, patches of light and dark…” (Hartley, 2004). It would be impossible for the movie to present such an opening in the same level of detail and it is also necessary to acknowledge that the image that appears on screen provides an insight into the director’s interpretation of the first two chapters. Indeed, Bordwell and Thompson (2003) point out that auteurs do not tend to write the scripts for their movies but instead assert their authority over the narrative and aesthetics of adaptations. This is certainly evident in the divergence between book and film. For example, there is no preamble, narration or introduction to the older Leo but rather the film begins with his arrival at Brandham Hall. In effect, this limits the knowledge of the audience, framing Leo’s thoughts instead through the dialogue between the guests the evening he arrives. However, it should be noted that the use of the camera does provide an insight into his experience of the space within the house, framing and then double framing him within doors and on staircases, acknowledge the development of the self within the new environment as he explores it (Bowman, 1992). Despite this, there is a clear disjunction between the tone and content of the book and that of the opening scene in the film adaptation.

The importance of the lead female, Julie Christie as Marian Maudsley, is evident in the opening fifteen minutes of the movie as a result of her positioning as an object of desire. She is continually framed by the camera in poses that emphasise the way Leo appears to be mesmerised by her. However, Leo is always perceived to be looking up to her, thus constructing other ideological meanings. Napper (2012) notes that representations of class and gender are often conveyed very clearly on film whereas that is not necessarily the case within the literature that they are adapted from and that is certainly the case here, but the perspective offered by the narrator and by the camera in the two respective mediums do not follow common paths. For example, the flawed memory of Leo draws attention to Marian’s beauty within his first impressions of her: “So that is what it is to be beautiful, I thought” (Hartley, 2004). In effect, this depiction of Marian in the movie does correlate with the way in which she is presented within the book. There is a coherence to the presentation of the character that translates effectively from memory within the text to actuality on the screen. In this sense, the way in which Marian is envisioned by Hartley does correspond to the book. The male protagonist, Alan Bates as Ted Burgess, does not appear within the first two chapters or in the opening scene of the movie but this is perhaps more effective given that Phillips (1999) notes that Leo is very much the outsider within the environment established as the primary location of both the book and the movie and this is clearly reflected in both. Ted would have arguably detracted from that. However, the characters do not quite respond to the vision constructed of them via interpretation of the narrative of the book because the interpretative freedom is removed from the reader as he or she becomes a viewer. As such this analysis suggests that reading the book prior to watching the movie actually has a significant impact upon the way in which the viewer responds to the film because it is likely that he or she has already envisioned how the narrative should be presented. The adaptation and revision of the literature is therefore wholly dependent on perspective, as Villarejo (2013,) suggests, and is clearly grounded in the issues of the era pertaining to such issues of gender and class, thus expanding upon the original appreciation for the story and its complexity.

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin (1994) was written by Louis de Bernieres, with the John Madden directed movie version being released in 2001. It has been subject to extensive criticism as a direct result of the very different endings. Taking the movie first, it concerns the invasion of the Ionian Islands in Greece by Italian forces during World War II, the latter of which included Captain Antonio Corelli. The final scenes of the movie concern his escape from the island after the Germans essentially massacre the Italians as traitors and leave him to die. His rescue at the hands of Mandras, his departure from Cephallonia and then the subsequent return to Pelagia renders it rather action packed and emphasises the impact of history on the nature of human lives during the war itself, drawing attention to the costs via the romantic element of the movie. However, the book, on the other hand, has a completely different ending and, having knowledge of the movie prior to reading the book, this contributes to a feeling of deflation. Instead of returning for Pelagia in the immediate aftermath of the war, Corelli does not return until he is in his seventies and is subject to her feisty responses when it becomes apparent that he had previously returned and mistakenly thought she had married and had a child (de Bernieres, 2011). The major departure from the original ending has been attributed to the lack of a resolution or consummation of the relationship in the book and the fact that this would not have translated well on film and having watched the movie first, it does not work on paper either. Although the context of the war complicates relations (Nowell-Smith, 1996), the anticlimax of Corelli keeping his distance from his love would not appeal to modern audiences.

There are many elements of the film adaptation that demand attention in relation to the narrative on which it is based. The first is the direction. Etherington-Wright and Doughty (2011) point out that an auteur may effectively construct an appealing narrative out of poor material and the disappointing anticlimax of the literary ending did provide scope for this. However, the rejection of the historical complexity of the aftermath of the war, which ultimately rendered the return of Corelli to Pelagia rather simplistic, instead taps into the tendency to construct grand narratives that emphasise romance over substance. In effect, Madden draws attention to the relationship between the characters as the focal point of the movie whereas this was not the case within the book. In the literature, Pelagia challenged the status quo and essentially does not need a man, thus facilitating the examination of the impact and outcomes of war.

In terms of casting, both Nicholas Cage’s Corelli and Penelope Cruz’s Pelagia have been appropriately selected for their roles and play them very well, with Cage capturing the nuanced persona of the Captain very well. However, Cruz embodies Pelagia, exhibiting her spirit and forcing the audience to believe in her ability to save Corelli as well as the development of a mutually important relationship. The  casting of the film as a whole is very multi-national and as such help to pick up on the issues within the book of national and individual identity, for example the film and book portrays the Italian soldiers very much as individuals not the cold archetypal invader shown by David Morrissey’s German officer  Overall, the adaptation (and casting) of the book to film here draws attention to the level of creative license available to directors and actors within its framework and the impact that it can have on the way characters and events may be presented.

In effect, the disjunction between de Bernieres’ book and its film adaptation renders neither outcome entirely satisfactory and does little to broaden the appeal or appreciation of the original story. If anything, it actively highlights its weaknesses rather than reinforcing areas of the narrative that pertain to the modern experiences of problematic relationships, cultural differences and the merging of the global and national, all of which are prominent issues within the book and movie. This highlights just how problematic adaptation can actually be when texts are not adapted properly.

Bibliography

Bordwell, D. & Thompson, K., (2003). Film Art: An Introduction. Boston: McGraw-Hill.

Bowman, B., (1992). Master Space: Film Images of Capra, Lubitsch, Sternberg, and Wyler. Westport: Greenwood Publishing Group.

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, (2001). [Film] Dir. by J. Madden. USA: Universal Studios.

de Bernieres, L., (2011). Captain Corelli’s Mandolin. London: Vintage.

Etherington-Wright, C. & Doughty, R., (2011). Understanding Film Theory. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

Hartley, L., (2004). The Go-Between. London: Penguin.

Napper, L., (2012). British Cinema. In J. Nelmes ed. Introduction to Film Studies. Abingdon: Routledge, pp. 361-398.

Nowell-Smith, G., (1996). Socialism, Fascism and Democracy. In G. Nowell-Smith ed. The Oxford History of World Cinema. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 333-343.

Phillips, G., (1999). Major Film Directors of the American and British Cinema. London: Associated University Presses.

The Go-Between, (1971). [Film] Dir. by J. Losey. UK: EMI Film Productions.

Villarejo, A., (2013). Film Studies: The Basics. Abingdon: Routledge.

The musical genre of film has been popular since the early 20th century, becoming one of the dominant genres in Hollywood and national cinemas alike as a result of its ability to project aesthetic and social values (Nelmes, 2012). As such, Etherington-Wright and Doughty (2011) have linked the understanding of the genre to cultural competency, particularly in relation to Bollywood, the Indian national cinema that is fundamentally based upon its use of music. However, Bordwell and Thompson (2003, p. 110) point out that musicals are somewhat unfashionable. Although this assertion was made prior to 2016 release of the highly popular La La Land (Damien Chazelle, 2016) it is necessary to assess the extent to which the musical genre within Bollywood and outside of it has lost its status as a spectacle as well as how far the content has altered to address modern audiences. This will be done via the assessment of the Bollywood musical Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998) and British movie Sunshine on Leith (2013) in order to text the thesis that modern musicals inside and outside India are still cultural phenomena that may be used to reflect issues that impact upon modern audiences effectively.

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Sunshine on Leith are very different examples of musicals for a variety of reasons. Firstly, the latter is a jukebox musical that exclusively features the songs of The Proclaimers, thus marking a modern form of the genre that is more of a hybrid of a concert and a movie in order to appeal to contemporaneous audiences in order to provide “…a certain narcissistic gratification by evoking memories… and in the process making your own past a part of the performance” (Savran, 2011). This is reinforced by the opening scene, which does not adhere to musical conventions in the traditional sense. Instead, it depicts a British Army battalion being ambushed, within which protagonists Ally and Davy sing “Sky Takes the Soul”. As such, it taps directly into modern events whilst evoking a diverse range of memories from the audience with the use of a popular song. It is far from a spectacle but is instead grounded in reality. On the other hand, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai features a more traditional Bollywood soundtrack in that it was written specifically for the movie and appears to adhere to other traditional Bollywood conventions. For example, the montage that appears at the very start of the movie to introduce the audience to the narrative and characters is highly colourful and establishes the tragedy on which Rahul can ultimately journey towards the “narrative closure” (Desai, 2004) of the typical happily ever after ending. In this sense, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Sunshine on Leith appear to be products of their own national cinemas and have a very different tone, outlook and subject. However, it is clear that both seek to build upon the traditional musical forms, thus suggesting that the musical both within and outside of India lend the genre significance but do so as a result of the change in content rather than despite it.

In terms of the shift in content to reflect the altered expectations of a modern audience, the narratives and stylistic traits of both movies, whilst very different from each other, tap directly into modern and rather globalist sensibilities that challenge tradition and existing cultural hierarchies. Indeed, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is one of the recent Bollywood movies that is indicative of the national cinema’s shift towards globalisation, blurring the categories that separate the Western and Bollywood traditions in order to achieve a crossover appeal (Desai, 2004, p. 41). However, Villarejo (2013) asserts that “Bollywood recycles, adapts, translates and otherwise incorporates diverse material into its stories, remaking Hollywood films, remixing or reinterpreting its own successes, and responding to increased interest from spectators around the world…” This directly challenges the notion that the musical is not an international genre, but rather a local one (Altman, 1996). For example, the romantic narrative is a universal one that diverse audiences may understand and relate to but also examines ideas of national identity without directly challenging them (Gopalan, 2012). This is evident in the resolution of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. Rahul’s interruption of Anjali’s wedding would normally be problematic in Indian culture because it actively challenges masculine authority and the ideal of marital harmony. However, Aman’s decision to step aside and release her from the engagement cleverly negates this problem, thus emphasising agency and reinforcing patriarchal values. This is paired with the celebration of Indian culture via the wedding itself. As such, there is a fine balance between appealing to modern audience and maintaining Bollywood traditions. In this respect, this movie can be characterised as a key component of modern Bollywood as a cultural phenomenon.

Sunshine on Leith is significantly different in this respect. It typically abandons musical conventions in favour of an honest and realist approach to life in modern Britain. This is evident in the mise en scene. For example, Ally returns home and has to share a cramped room with his nephew. He also meets Davy in a dingy and rather traditional pub. Both of these settings illustrate the reality of modern life in Scotland rather than the idealised lifestyle that is often projected within the traditional movies of the musical genre (Altman, 1996). However, this does have a transformative value later in the movie, specifically where Sunshine on Leith does share a specific feature with Kuch Kuch Hota Hai – the happily ever after. The streets of Edinburgh are framed in a positive light when Davy chases Yvonne to prevent her from leaving the city by declaring his love for her. Place and identity are therefore key elements of the narrative and the aesthetics of the movie, positioning it in terms of the national whilst appealing to the universalist sensibilities of the modern audience, thus framing it as a cultural phenomenon in a similar way to Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. As such, this suggests that the musical has not been diminished since the golden age of Bollywood and the Hollywood studio spectacle, but rather that the musical genre is a significant cultural phenomenon that is able to adapt to current events within the framework of national cinema but appeals to a global audience.

In conclusion, the analysis here indicates that Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Sunshine on Leith are two very different movies in terms of their position within the musical genre and actively appeal to their national audiences via very distinctive features, many of which are typical of the genre, such as the mise en scene and the nature of the narratives. However, despite their aesthetic differences, there is a sense that they tap into a broader framework of cultural phenomena that use the national to tap into globalist agendas that are driven by commercialism and the nature of modern life. The content undoubtedly addresses modern audiences in terms of the experiences the characters endure and the way in which they relate to the individual viewers, although the differences between the usage of music highlights the disparities between the cultures that underpin each movie. As such, the analysis here reinforces the thesis that modern musicals, both inside and outside India, are still relevant to society, tapping into experiences and the reality of modern life. In this way, they actively appeal to audiences and provide evidence of cultural phenomena that may be used to reflect issues that impact upon modern viewers effectively.

Bibliography

Altman, R., (1996). Cinema and Genre. In G. Nowell-Smith ed. The Oxford History of World Cinema. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 276-285.

Bordwell, D. & Thompson, K., (2003). Film Art: An Introduction. Boston: McGraw-Hill.

Desai, J., (2004). Beyond Bollywood: The Cultural Politics of South Asian Diasporic Film. Cambridge: Psychology Press.

Etherington-Wright, C. & Doughty, R., (2011). Understanding Film Theory. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

Gopalan, L., (2012). Indian Cinema. In J. Nelmes ed. Introduction to Film Studies. Abingdon: Routledge, pp. 399-425.

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, (1998). [Film] Dir. by K. Johar. India: Dharma Productions.

Nelmes, J., (2012). Introduction. In J. Nelmes ed. Introduction to Film Studies. Abingdon: Routledge, pp. xxi-xxv.

Savran, D., (2011). Class and Culture. In R. Knapp, M. Morris & S. Wolf eds. The Oxford Handbook of the American Musical. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 239-253.

Sunshine on Leith, (2013). [Film] Dir. by D. Fletcher. UK: BFI.

Villarejo, A., (2013). Film Studies: The Basics. Abingdon: Routledge