In the first chapter
of The Film Sense, Sergei Eisenstein discusses a method by
means of which an actor can generate the emotions required by their
role. Using the example of a character who has been condemned for
having gambled away government money, he describes what he would see,
were he in the situation of such a man. This, he observes, is
"exactly how it takes place in life. Terror resulting from
awareness of responsibility initiates his feverish pictures of the
consequences". A man in a situation of terror fantasises certain
possibilities with such strength that it is as if he can see them: he
projects them outside of himself. Hence the reverse technique can
also work: by visualising such images, the actor begins to feel as
if the images were his projection, and thus to engender the appropriate
emotions without focusing directly either on the emotions themselves or on how
they should be depicted. Eisenstein then claims that a successful
film exists before the audience as if it is the result of their
projection:
The basic
validity of the method obtains in both spheres [ie acting and editing
together a film]. The first task is the creative breaking-up of the
theme into determining representations, and then combining these
representations with the purpose of bringing to life the initiating
image of the theme. And the process whereby this image is perceived
is identical with the original experiencing of the theme of the
image's content.
The
technique is based on a metonymy of emotion: rather than emotion
giving rise to images of that which would evoke the emotion
(heightening it via a feedback cycle), images are witnessed whose
unifying factor is the sensation of a particular emotion or
collection of emotions; the viewer is thereby persuaded to attribute
the fact that they are seeing particular images to the presence in
themselves of the appropriate emotion, which causes them actually to
feel said emotion.
The crucial distinction between projection in life and as a theatrical or cinematic technique is the presence or absence of control. The metaphor of projection (both deliberate and involuntary) is central to David Lynch's Inland Empire, as is indicated by the fact that the very first thing we see at
the film's outset is the beam of light emanating from a film projector. Lynch dramatises a self-reflexive
version of projection in a number of sequences in Inland
Empire, using what one might
call a "projection shot". A character is shown
looking towards something, followed by a reverse shot indicating that
what they are looking at is themselves, at another point in space and
time, after which another shot shows that one of the two versions of
the character has disappeared. They have projected
themselves into another version of themselves. Their sight is
productive of reality, distantly recalling early emission
theories of vision (held by thinkers including Plato, Ptolemy and
Galen) in which sight functioned via the emission of rays from the
eyes. Such shots are placed prominently at two points in Inland
Empire. The first happens at the end of the visit Nikki Grace
(played by Laura Dern) receives from Grace Zabriskie's "visitor
#1", when Nikki looks across the room and sees herself a day
later, about to hear from her agent that she has got the part of Sue
Blue in the film On High in Blue Tomorrows. The second occurs
when Sue, played by Nikki, emerges after having entered a metal door
marked "Axxon N" and finds herself on the soundstage of On
High In Blue Tomorrows, looking back at herself during the first
read-through, which we have already seen earlier in Inland Empire
from a different point of view.
Inland
Empire argues that
Hollywood's projections corrode the distinction between fantasy
and reality and subvert commonsense assumptions about the dominance
of the actual over the virtual. In Eric Knight's 1938 novel You
Play the Black and the Red Comes Up (which David Lynch at one
point wanted to film) the film director Quentin Genter laments this
surreally corrosive power:
And you see this restaurant? Well, it isn't here. It's a process shot. All Hollywood is a process shot. It's a background just projected on to ground glass. And the only reason nobody knows that is because we're all mad.
Furthermore,
this effect is contagious:
Wherever I go the world won't be itself. It becomes a movie set the moment I get there. And I can't go any farther. If I go to Europe that will become a movie, too. Everywhere I went it would become a process shot or a travelogue, until there'd be no world left. Only a movie of the world. Then the world would die – it would become two-dimensional – it would be the end of the world. It would be Armageddon!
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