Chicago: y'know like New York for the working class

Chicago’s always seemed the tougher street-smart little brother to New York. Like all little brothers this ones always vying to be number one (in size, economically, or even in measurement [think Sears Tower]). Located in Illinois it never had the advantage of being neither the immigration epicenter nor a major export hub that’s vital for any large city, Chicago’s had to work for its status. The Fugitive and High Fidelity present two very different views of Chicago. The main characters represent different economic classes but illustrate the spread of working class, and that's Chicago's place, representing the working class.

The Fugitive’s main character of Dr. Richard Kimble represents the more affluent side of Chicago, but while living in luxury, he doesn’t get a mcmansion the style of L.A. The rich houses of Chicago are stacked together like any suburb row. The middle class demographic is represented in High Fidelity. However, John Cusack’s character of a record store owner Rob lives in an apartment that even he refers to as “dump." (Apparently Rob lives in the same apartment as Sandra Bullock [While You Were Sleeping]) The higher cost of living it seems to homogenize the class levels into living in basic similar ways, meaning there isn’t as great a contrast in lifestyles as in some cities (e.g. L.A.).

The unemployment rate in Chicago fluctuates greatly but it has the benefit of a balanced economy. With the diversification of the workforce Chicago will always have a base sufficient level of jobs, and enough jobs to maintain different economic levels (unlike say Detroit). High Fidelity’s story revolves around this privately-owned record store that shows the “mom and pop” shop still exists but through the main characters words (“maybe I should close down and just manage a Virgin mega store”) we know that private business is still under threat of being taken over by big business.

The characters in these movies work constantly. Harrison Ford’s character of Richard Kimble never stops working, even while he’s on the run from the police. Before becoming the aforementioned Fugitive we see that he can’t go home to an evening with his wife after a work banquet, instead he gets called into work for the duration of the evening and that it’s not uncommon. John Cusack’s Rob the record store owner works every day. Near the end of the film he realizes that he needs to work more to break free of his rut in life. These are people who work for everything they have, and they work hard.

Regardless of the fact that Chicago is one of the richest cities in the world it is never been glamorized as such. I have yet to see a film about the richest family in Chicago, and it makes sense, after all if I were rich I’d be in New York or California. California has its slackers, New York has its playboys (or girls), and Chicago has a workforce.

Paradise Lost (then Found, then Lost Again): San Francisco in Film

People will cry “bullshit!” if you don’t have a shot of the Golden Gate Bridge in a San Francisco film. This enormous incandescent structure represents the whole of the Bay Area. With its’ orange veneer the Golden Gate balances its’ industrial 30’s deco with a beautiful charismatic surface. For the past 150 years San Francisco has attempted to maintain its’ beauty against modernization. It’s this beauty that makes San Francisco a unique location for films of intrigue.

Gorgeous vistas decorate Vertigo’s interior scenes, whether it is a trip to the Palace of Fine Arts or merely down the sloped streets of San Francisco. Hitchcock uses the serene settings as contrast to enhance the drama of the later scenes. He loved to build tension in the audience’s unease over the idea that something big can happen at anytime. Director David Fincher does much the same affect in Zodiac. When two day-trippers on a picnic by a lake, gorgeous and serene, are brutally murdered, Fincher sends the message, “I don’t care how pretty it is, you are no longer safe in this movie.”

Darkness enshrouds San Francisco in both films. Not surprising though is Zodiac's serial killer tale takes place almost exclusively at night. A perfect device for suspense, darkness gives us the feeling of a character’s being vulnerable, anyone can be lurking in the shadows. Vertigo begins and ends just before sunrise, darkness is used sparingly. When it is used it’s a tool to illustrate Jimmy Stewart’s vulnerability; both its’ origin and when he must drastically overcome it.

The whole visage of Vertigo dims as the film progresses (even after restoration). The theme being as the film progresses the story becomes more glooming and depressing, as such the film’s color and look adapts with it. The same can be said for Zodiac, this time the director introduces rain and other natural elements as thematic cues for dread. The idea being when San Francisco stops being pretty, watch out!

San Francisco might be a beautiful place to live (especially if you're a cop since apparently 75% of the population in movies are cops), but an even better place to stage a drama. Peaceful and serene with wonderful weather and a magnificent view make San Fransisco the antithesis of "Murderville," and that's what makes it paradise for film.

Through the Window of the American Utopia: Filming the Extremities of Suburbia

There’s a heavy differentiation when talking about films based in cities and those based in suburbia. Quite frankly there are only two types of suburban films, happy-go-lucky family comedy or sordid morality tale. The family comedy embraces the concept of the suburbs as a utopia, while the morality tales work their hardest to dispel it. Films use that ideological backdrop and its contrast between seductively simple living and complex sometimes harsh life to dramatize the plot. What bearing does any of this have on reality?

Consumerism is the heart of every suburb. Perhaps it has something to do with higher number of home owners versus renters, or the ability to obtain a higher standard of living for a better price. Whatever the case, suburbanites have bought their way into the American dream, and at the center of the American dream is a shopping mall. The solution for life’s problems is spending money. As the main character of Disturbia wisecracks, “You know what, honey? Infidelity? Forget about it. Look at the storage space!” So the suburbs become this cycle where you automatically feel better when you buy into it, then to maintain that level you systematically continue to purchase new and better things. The teenagers of Disturbia have five of every toy on the market, and every suburb in film has green lawns with pools in their backyard and an SUV in the garage. What makes Fun with Dick and Jane a great satire is that it embraces this concept unabashedly. The main characters obsess over their need to fit in with the status quo, it drives the plot and drives them to commit crimes. In Dick and Jane's case they've even their crimes are crimes against the consumer culture, well beyond standard liquor store robbery they've turned to robbing a Starbucks.

Suburbia being free of crime is a total myth. I have no idea where it comes from. We’re all well aware that crime exists in the suburbs, but we’re still surprised when it happens. It seems rather cliché now but there will always be the news reports where the neighbor of a mass murderer is saying that the neighbor “seemed like a nice person” or, “I never thought something like this would happen in our neighborhood.” Of course they’ve all bought the nice house and the security that comes with owning your own property. They get the security of isolating themselves from whomever they choose. Unfortunately this also means nice mister serial killer across the way also gets the comfort of seclusion. No one in the suburbs completely knows what their neighbor is really doing, and this is where Disturbia takes over. It takes the idea that your neighbor could be a killer and runs with it for the duration of a movie. Fun with Dick and Jane uses the same theme (but definitely more light-hearted), this time your neighbors could very well be bank robbers. Even though they themselves are armed robbers Dick and Jane still find it shocking that their neighbors would be bank robbers.

People move to the suburbs to get away from the crime and busy life of the city, but is every other person in the ‘burbs an adulterous sociopath? Fortunately the truth is that it’s all just grand ideas that have no bearing on reality, the suburbs are just squalid and depraved as the city, and the city is just as bland and played out as suburbia. It’s not the perfect utopia of the family film genre, nor is it the twisted horror breeding ground seen in other films. Somewhere appropriately in between is the reality.

New York, Evolving in Front of the Camera

With its Art Deco spires stretching up to the sky, New York has been iconic since the turn of the century. New York’s early front-runner status has made it the standard for the modern city. In pop culture its almost been type-cast, "New York is a bustling metropolis rife with crime," but over the past century New York has constantly evolved. Contrasting You’ve Got Mail with Tootsie, we can see the difference in the way the city is shown in just 15 years. Both are light-hearted films yet the general mood or ambiance differs with the time. The way New York has been expressed and utilized has changed through its history. The change has always been subtle and slow and as a result we haven't really changed our ideas about the city.

Unfortunately because the city’s urban planning had gone into full swing by the 1930’s its transportation design has notoriously been stagnant. Streets are throttled by over dominating buildings and had no room for advancement. With this taxi cabs and subway trains became the dominant mode of transportation in a city that defined the fast urban epicenter. In fact taxis have become such an icon of New York that if a movie character doesn’t hail a cab once in a film it might as well be any other city in the world. In this case it only has to happen once, both You’ve Got Mail and Tootsie merely imply taxi rides without the standard conversation scene taking place in the backseat of a cab (as seen in many a film). In the more modern You’ve Got Mail walking is the main method of transportation; everyone strolls about no matter the time of day. Conversely, in Tootsie walking is considered secondary or almost slumming it. Teri Garr has a wonderful quote when asked if she’s going to take a cab at night, “nah, it’s cheaper getting mugged.”

Big scary and dangerous, New York has always been synonymous with crime. This sort of pre-conceived notion can usually be overblown, a result of early stigmatisms. You’ve Got Mail touches briefly on crime, it never happens to its characters but it is mentioned briefly in a newspaper, their version of New York is very friendly and safe. By contrast the New York of 1982 (in Tootsie) is livable but also has a dark and dirty side. The change takes place not only in the movies but is also a reality. Between 1982 and '98 crime in New York and its bureaus had dropped nearly 45%.

The general feel of New York has become cleaner and more friendlier. Current New York can be filmed during the day while Tootsie takes place either under darkened grey skies of autumn or at night. An afternoon in the dead of winter can seem like the most radiant day in You’ve Got Mail. Both are feel-good movies yet the New York of You've Got Mail permeates a sense euphoria; it seems more pleasant than most fairy-tale lands

New York has changed with the times. Not long ago it was the toughest city in America yet now the majority of films about New York are romantic comedies. No longer is New York about hustle and bustle, but instead a place where you can stroll down to the shop around the corner.

A Corrupt and Just American Icon

Washington DC stands out in so many American's minds as an icon. A the capitol of the free world it probably the most scrutinized city in America. In each of our subconsious's we know what the city looks like, what it has going for it, and what it has against it; so much so we don't really have to see DC to understand. We all have ideas about what really happens in DC, but what is Washington DC really about?

“Coke and whores.” Iposed the question “what is conjured when you think of Washington DC,” before we sat down to watch Charlie Wilson’s War. We all laughed at the remark and I neglected to write it down on my list. The films starts and about 30 seconds after the credits start to roll my jaw drops, I decide to write down coke and whores as the titular character engages in some leisure activity in the company of… well coke and whores.

Drugs and prostitution have always meant corruption and anytime you have power corruption is nearby, especially in fiction, especially in Washington. A Few Good Men utilizes corruption expertly by making it the status quo. If a military Colonel lies or commits a crime it is seen as their prerogative. The government is run by powerful people and they were put in charge for a reason, who are we to judge? That right there is the foundation of democracy and thus when we freely see corruption of government, and its purification, it is almost symbolic of the patriotic freedoms we are granted as U.S. citizens.

Washington DC has the peculiar position that in being the capital of the U.S. it stands for democracy and all it’s governing forms. Justice is personified in DC by the fact that it contains the capital branches of the Secret Service, the FBI, and the whole of America’s armed forces (well across the river anyway), as well as the Department of Justice and the Supreme Court. So with corruption you always have balance, an idea that the good guy is going to win. In A Few Good Men it’s the upstart lawyer taking on the corrupted U.S. Military. Charlie Wilson’s War has the Senator fighting against communism’s corruption of Afghanistan. The little guy versus the corrupt power, again an iconic image of this country's founding. Tom Hanks sits in a white room at an enormous well-finished oak table with several other well dressed men and several other well-finished oak tables, and it might as well be Tom Cruise asking for the truth because the message is the same, "justice and democracy."

Decorated with statues and memorials, DC has itself become the popular icon for America, so well known that A Few Good Men smartly chooses to show some lesser known DC-centric images. Many films feel compelled to retrace Jimmy Stewart’s footsteps (and Frank Capra’s lens) in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. How often have we seen the steps of the Lincoln Memorial? (They should really consider putting up a “no contemplating” sign to curb loitering.) The images of Washington have become so etched in the public sub-conscience that it begs the question, “can the average student tell the difference between the Parthenon and the Lincoln Memorial?” In Charlie Wilson’s War Tom Hanks (who already visited a good portion of DC's icons in Forrest Gump) merely stands on a balcony gesturing towards the off-screen location of monuments and we get the idea. In fact we get the idea so well, we don't get to see any of the city itself. Washington DC is after all such a recognizable image of America that we already know what it's look like, warts and all.

Las Vegas -- as seen through the eyes of Martin Scorsese's Casino

Upon viewing a standard list of films based on or taking place in Las Vegas it becomes overwhelmingly obvious what the context Las Vegas brings to a picture. It seems that to be a Vegas movie you either have to be a happy-go-lucky romp, or a twisted and dark descent into hell. Casino might be about as middle of the road as you can get with a Vegas picture. Scorsese fashion is that the director shows you the good parts of a story then remind you that in real life there are consequences to living a life of sin, let alone a life in Sin City.

Money, delicious money; in Vegas it comes and goes. In Vegas movies it’s always going into the pockets of the protagonist. At least in 50% of the films it flows that way unless the protagonist is blasted on drugs or alcohol, and of course they could be earning it the most lurid way possible… Regardless, Las Vegas is about money, and Casino takes the cake for best money montage out of all films made about Vegas. Set to Rolling Stones’ “Gimme Shelter,” this is the second time Scorsese uses this song for a montage in a film. Initially you can't help but ask, "Marty did you forget you'd already done that in Goodfellas?" After the Departed, however, it's obvious that he's linking all three films with this song and using money and success as a common thread. The concept behind this montage is that living a life around money can be both enticing and dangerous. Mad-cap comedies like Ocean's Eleven make Vegas' money very enticing, but even there they utilize the thrill of danger.

Danger surrounds the city in the form of the desert. Las Vegas is choked off at its border by the Mojave, which according to many a film has a deceased population rivaling that living in the city. In fact the only time the desert ever gets shown in a movie happens during events surrounding the unwilling passing of one of the film’s characters. The message is that leaving Vegas is deadly.

In fact, according to film, outside of the strip there are no safe places. Very few outer Vegas locations are ever shown in any movie. Ocean's Eleven ventures away from the strip a minor amount of times, and those times we might as well be in the ritzy part of L.A. In the case of Casino we get to see the occasional motel. These motels exemplify Las Vegas’ worst aesthetics. Seedy, cheap, and dated; the world off the strip is where old Vegas goes to die.

What are we missing in these films? How about “normal” life in Vegas. I would like to imagine that not everyone who lives in Las Vegas is a hooker or mobster. With 500 thousand people living in the city and another million in the area around it, some of those people must earn an honest living. We never see any of these people except when they're dealing cards.

Like a bit actor stealing a scene, Las Vegas steals a picture. Vegas is never just a backdrop, it is the movie, it takes over, becomes a character of its own and all the other characters in the movie have to compete with it. Hard competition, very few are strong enough to stand next to Vegas, most happen to be mobsters. Just imagine one day we might actually see a film about a family raising their children within the backdrop of Vegas, hopefully their children won’t be strung out on coke or their selling their flesh.

A Serious In-Depth Essay on Japanese Cinema

As a test-post I present an essay I completed some time ago as a detailed overview of Japanese cinema from a historic and contemporary view: