Discuss how far your chosen film reflects the auteur signature features of the filmmaker. [20]
Casablanca reflects workings of its studio, and this complicates the notion that it is always the director who is the auteur, as Casablanca reflects the signatures of key talents who contributed to the films, such as the composer, cinematographer, screenwriter, and editor.
Casablanca was produced by Warner Brothers in 1942, at the height of the studio era, therefore it reflects the signature features of Warner Brothers films from the period. During the studio era, it was the producer rather than the director who controlled production. Casablanca therefore also reflects the auteur signature of producer Hal B. Wallis, who bought the film rights for the play Everybody Comes to Rick’s, which was then developed into the film Casablanca. Wallis oversaw all aspects of production and even wrote the final line where Rick says to Renault “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship”. Casablanca’s director, Michael Curtiz, was a contract director who directed films at Warners in differing genres. He does not have a clear trademark across a body of films in the same regard as an auteur such as Alfred Hitchcock or Orson Welles yet was able to direct highly regarded and profitable films across a range of popular genres. He is more typical of directors in the studio era who were on contract at their respective studios.
Casablanca is notable for its memorable and nostalgic romantic musical score. Composer Max Steiner was on contract at WB and his score of Casablanca reflects his auteur signature. The song ‘As Time goes By’ is heard at key points throughout the films, either diegetically when Sam plays the song in the bar or through an orchestral score when Rick remembers his romance with Isla in Paris. The use of the song at different points is a leitmotif, as Steiner’s melodramatic score was influenced by German and Austrian composers who would use leitmotifs. The melodramatic music is most apparent in the final emotional scenes, where Rick and Isla depart. This whole sequence reflects the auteur signatures of the various collaborators who made the film. The use of low-key lighting and later scenes in the aircraft hangar containing fog and smoke which give the film a noir style at times is reflective of both the Warner’s studio style and cinematographer on contract at Warner, Arthur Edeson, who was adept at a low-key style, as evidenced in his work on previous warner’s films Frankenstein and The Maltese Falcon.
The casting of Humphrey Bogart, who was a star on contract at Warner Brothers, as Rick Blaine reflects Warner’s gritty style. Bogart’s performance style as a cynical tough guy was developed in earlier WB films such as The Maltese Falcon. When the audience are first introduced to Rick, the mid-shot conveys him sitting alone with a cynical world-weary look. Rick’s transformation, from cynical isolationist to a romantic who must sacrifice his love for the war effort, reflects Warner’s shifting of Bogart’s persona from a tough guy ant-hero to a romantic lead. Bogarts shift in persona also reflects Warner’s commitment to the war effort as studio head Jack Warner produced films which boosted morale and supported the allies. Indeed, some critics have argued that Casablanca is a propaganda film, as Rick embodies American foreign policy.
He begins the film as an isolationist (“I stick my neck out for nobody”) to full involvement in the war effort. We see a close-up shot of Rick signing a cheque dated 2nd Dec 1941, just a few days before the attack on Pearl Harbour on 7th Dec 1941. The final scenes, where Rick sacrifices his love for Isla, sends the message to a sceptical American public that they must get involved in the war effort and be prepared to make sacrifices for the greater good. Other notable moments reflect WB commitment to the war effort, such as Captain Renault at the end of the film kicking away a bottle of Vichy water, symbolising his rejection of the Vichy government who supported the Nazis, and willingness to now fight with the allies.
Overall, Casablanca reflects the collaborative nature of Old Hollywood production and as a film produced in the studio era, Casablanca reflects the auteur signatures of its studio, Warner brothers, which was defined by the combination of key talent on contract, including director Michael Curtiz, cinematographer Arthur Edeson, composer Max Steiner and producer Hal B. Wallis. It reflects the high level of control the studio head and producer had over the film.
18/20 BAND 5
Sophisticated demonstration of knowledge and understanding of auteurism illustrated by detailed, illuminating references to both texts and contexts
Good points used to develop a detailed comparison – often implicit.
How far does your chosen film reflect its production contexts? (20)
This essay will focus how far the film reflects filmmaking styles of the period in which it was produced, including issues of censorship and production histories.
Casablanca was produced for Warner Brothers at the height of the studio era and reflects the studio-bound production of the studio era, where films were produced in-house on studio lots. The final sequences in the aircraft hangar were shot in the studio and exemplify the expertise and style of WB – the use of fog disguises the studio set and WB would often use fog and smoke on sets. Depth and perspective is provided by using a miniature plane which looks like it is in the distance. Shooting on the studio lot also enabled producers and studio heads to oversee production daily.
Stylistically, Casablanca exemplifies the norms of classical filmmaking of the 1940s. The sequence where we first meet Rick is typical of the classical Hollywood style. The scene begins with a long establishing shot depicting the exterior of Rick’s Café American, shot on the studio lot. The interior shots first establish space though tracking shots, then cut into medium close ups of characters of different ethnicities in the bar, a typical way to shoot a sequence in the classical period. The cinematography, particularly the use of low-key lighting, is a stylistic device common in films of the 1940s as Warner’s embraced a tough, gritty style in line with the popularity of film noir hardboiled detective stories. We see this in the same sequence when we first meet Rick, as he sits alone in a medium close-up with low key lighting used to help convey his cynicism and isolation.
Casablanca reflects the collaborative nature of studio production of the 1940s as the film displays all the traits of the respective filmmakers who worked together on the film, with producer Hall B. Wallis at the helm in charge of day-to-day production and contract director Michael Curtiz able to direct an accomplished film on schedule. Wallis even wrote the famous final line of dialogue. “This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship”, The production of Casablanca is well documented and has formed part of the mythology of the film, with books written on the film’s production. One of the key myths surrounding the film’s production is that Ingrid Bergman did not know that her character would leave with Lazlo, not Rick at the end of the film. This allegedly affected her performance as she was told to play it ‘in-between’. Casablanca’s multiethnic cast reflects the film’s production context as Ingrid Bergman who plays Isla was Swedish and had recently come to star in Hollywood films. She was on contract at David O Selznick productions and was loaned to Warners. German actor Conrad Veight who plays Major Strasser was an antifascist who had come to Hollywood to escape the Nazi regime. The sequence where characters sing their respective anthems best exemplifies the multi-ethnic cast, many of whom were on contract at Warners.
Casablanca reflects censorship and regulation at the time of production and was produced at a time when scripts would adhere to the Hays production code (no sex, graphic violence, blasphemy), a form of self-censorship where films would have to adhere to a set of rules and need to be approved for release. Casablanca adheres to the Hayes code as there is no direct reference to sex during scenes of Rick and Isla’s romance in Paris, yet the scene cleverly ends with a fade to black transition, which strongly alludes to the act.
Casablanca was produced after the outbreak of World War Two. The film’s messages and narrative reflects Jack Warner’s decision to produce films which boosted morale, as Rick embodies American foreign policy, from isolationist to self- sacrificing. This coincides with the idea that studio films were often positive contributors to American society, and wanted to promote wholesome values to the public as a form of propaganda. The scene with the singing of ‘La Marseillaise’ is especially important, as it promotes the idea of unity, bravery and the importance of being allies with Europe.
Overall, Casablanca reflects its production contexts and is reflective of 1940s studio filmmaking,
20/20 TOP BAND 5
Sophisticated and detailed knowledge the film and its production contexts. Rich in textual detail.
Highly sophisticated analysis using excellent points to develop highly coherent, production focused points.
Discuss how far your chosen film reflects the auteur signature features of the filmmaker. [20]
Blade Runner was directed by the auteur director Ridley Scott and is now considered by critics and film scholars to be the masterpiece of Scott. While were under- appreciated at the time of release, it has since become regarded as a high point of art cinema through complex themes, striking visuals, and layers of meaning which reward repeat viewing. Blade Runner is an adaptation of the novel ‘Do androids dream of electric sheep?’, brought to the screen and developed by a director with distinctive trademarks and visuals identifiable across his body of work.
Ridley Scott is an auteur in the sense that he has a high level of control over his films, particularly the overall look and set design. He is also known for creating visual blockbuster spectacles as seen in the use of landscape shots in Blade Runner. Each frame in Blade Runner is incredibly detailed and any frame could be paused to allow the spectator to marvel at the aesthetics. Scott is known for his visual layering which create complex and artistic visuals (Scott even referred to film as a ‘700 layer cake’). This layering is used to convey the congestion and complexity of the postmodern city in Blade Runner. The city is one of technology and decay. The richness of the design leaves a lasting impression on the spectator, more so than the plot. His ability to create stunning and glossy visuals stems from his previous career in advertising and as a set designer at the BBC. In advertising, Scott would create sketches to enable him to imagine his vision. He continued this into his filmmaking and approached directing as an art director. Indeed, the films’ production designer Scott was integral to the overall design of the film. Designer Syd Mead worked work with Scott to help imagine his vision and Scott put him in charge of interiors and some external scenes. This reflects the collaborative nature of Hollywood filmmaking and how auteurs may work with other artists whom they trust.
Scott tends to use close ups for shocking moments to enhance the shock. His films have high production values and Scott insists on working with the best production designers. The opening of Blade Runner exemplifies Scott’s auteur trademarks. The long establishing shot of LA presents the city as a cinematic spectacle with a panoramic view. Then the film cuts to an extreme close up of smokestack reflected in an eye, reflecting Scott’s use of extreme close ups. Scott’s films are also known for their use of bright light through steam or fog. In Blade Runner, this is evident in the use of light where the lights from adverts create reflections in the rain-washed streets.
Scott prefers to take his time to tell a story and builds-up characters and the cinematic world in which they live leads to a complex story. As a result, Scott’s films have been cut by the studios for theatrical release. Blade Runner The Director’s Cut is a much longer version of the film and closer to Scott’s vision. It dwells more on the world of LA and gives the spectator more time to dwell on the landscape without being distracted by the voice over. The removal of the voice over and happy ending gives the film a more ambiguous ending, as the film cuts when Deckard leaves his apartment as opposed to the studio ending where Deckard goes out to the countryside with Rachael. The insertion of a dream sequence where Deckard dreams of a unicorn running through a forest suggests that Deckard may be a replicant. Aspects of Blade Runner are more like an art film than a standard commercial Hollywood film. Although Blade Runner was a box office failure upon release, it has since built up an appreciative audience and the studio eventually released a director’s cut, more in line with Scott’s original vision. The release of the director’s cut is typical of the trend of Hollywood studios in the 1990s to release re-edits to increase revenue.
Overall, Blade Runner is a ‘masterpiece’ film which reflects the auteur signatures of its director. However, they also reflect the signatures of other key collaborators, such as the designers and cinematographers whose artistry helped the auteur realise his vision.
TOTAL 18/20 BAND 5
Mostly excellent knowledge and understanding of the concept of auteur demonstrated though use of detailed examples.
A well-informed response with clear links to context. Sophisticated comparison throughout.
How useful has an ideological approach been in understanding the narrative resolution of your chosen film?
An ideological critical approach can be extremely rewarding when studying film. It can reveal fascinating points of interest in films spectatorship, provoke endless debate amongst audiences and allow to experience the power of cinema in endlessly novel and meaningful ways. Focussing on ideological study can have its limitations however in considering the 'ideas' or 'messages and values' in film can detract from other, perhaps more important qualities such as the aesthetic beauty and narrative complexity of film.
Firstly, the ‘resolution’ in ‘Sweet Sixteen’ is highly unconventional and certainly doesn’t follow Todorov’s theory of a new equilibrium. We see the protagonist, Liam, finally become the kind of man that he tried to avoid for his whole life and use extreme violence in the heat of anger, therefore potentially ruining the future that he had been tried hard to build. Using the left-wing ideological approach of that Ken Loach explicitly embedded in this story is incredibly useful in helping the spectator understand how this could possibly happen, especially to a sensitive and hardworking young man. The politically left-wing ideology encourages a humanist approach of empathy, in which we consider the impact of cruel right-wing politics on impoverished communities, who receive little-to-no state welfare support to help them overcome the situations that they were born into.
Loach helps us ‘feel’ this ending as a bleak reality of the UK using social realist filmmaking, which uses a documentary approach in the cinematography (handheld camera), mise-en-scene (available locations), editing (long takes) and sound (naturalistic and diegetic), in creating an accurate and believable portrait of the struggling community. The film itself is politically charged, and its intentions were to provoke action to change, rather than entertain. This helped me understand why the ending had to be bleak rather than positive. It is accurately exemplified in the closing statement of Chantelle to her brother Liam, ‘what a waste’, as we see Liam alone on the riverbank, facing a hostile and empty future.
Morality is another key ideological approach in that the film leads the spectator to address our usual sense of right and wrong and apply context to Liam’s situation. The film encourages empathy rather than judgement throughout the entire film: from the beginnings of Liam’s petty crimes to more serious drug dealing, and finally leading up to attempted murder and violence. Because we observed Liam very closely, we were led to understand why he did the things he did, such as acting on his deep desire for stability, love, and the support of a family that most of us take for granted. This again links to Loach’s left-wing belief that crime is the result of poverty and lack of opportunity rather than inherent evil. These points cumulate to the climactic ‘resolution’ of the film, where Liam commits his greatest on-screen crime, stabbing Stan, and we watch it unfold with a feeling of compassion rather than judgement. This somewhat challenges the dominant ideology of violence=bad, which is seen frequently in mainstream media, and we look at it in a new way, ‘did Liam ever have a chance?’
Another present, and more implicit ideology that could help us understand the resolution of Sweet Sixteen is the concept of masculinity and how men ‘should act’. The final scene clearly focuses on the negative qualities of men in contemporary Britain, and how the younger men learn toxic behaviours from the generations that came before. The scene plays out in a interesting way, with Jean sat helplessly on the sofa (with her vulnerability accentuated via a high angle), while Liam and Stan are aggressively close in a two-shot, almost touching noses. This represents the oppressive nature of men that Liam would have witnessed his whole life, resulting in broken and fragile women that struggle to survive in the male-dominated world. It also helps us understand how vulnerable Jean has likely been for her life too.
How far do your chosen films demonstrate a constant shift between passive and active spectatorship? Refer in detail to at least one sequence from each film
Spectators may find themselves responding actively and passively to the events and characters in this film. An active response to these events and characters together with the meanings created by elements of film form, enables the spectator to immerse themselves in the narrative whilst reaching their own interpretation of events and characters’ actions. In so doing, an active response by spectators indicates how they can see the action from many points of view, arriving at their independent understanding and enjoyment of the film. Conversely, if spectators are passive rather than active, they will not ask questions or shift their perspective when events require them to. If spectators remain passive, they will not be responsive to the multiple meanings and messages which are created through the key elements of film form, as for example the use of cinematography, mise en scéne. In this essay, I will be discussed active and passive spectatorship regarding Winter’s Bone and No Country for Old Men.
The thematic content of Winter’s Bone also encourages an active spectator. Its gritty, dark, and complex subject matter is likely to cause audiences to respond to in different ways. They also might enjoy the Greek mythology intertextuality, they might personally relate to the idea of a broken family, they might see themselves in Ree because of the restrictions in her social class, or they might enjoy decoding the more impressionistic scenes and coming up with their own theories of what they represent. Audiences are also likely to respond to Ree and her community in different ways. Some might feel sorry for them because of their poverty, others might feel disgusted by their lack of order and backwards way of life.
In Winter’s Bone, there are numerous ways in which spectators are encouraged to respond actively. Influenced by neo-realism, the cinematography and performance are thoughtfully combined, such as the handheld camera and long lens, which creates a more raw and authentic experience, which will easily provoke a more thoughtful reaction from the audience, as they will see the film as a reflection of reality. Interestingly, WB was filmed using a technique where the camera followed the actors not the other way around, which allowed the actors to perform with a more spontaneous and free style. The camera needed to react quickly to keep the actors in frame, much like a documentary approach to filmmaking. Again, this authenticity is effective at keeping spectators in an active state and respond deeper to the images that they see.
However, the tight control of the narrative and the slow reveal of information throughout the film force the spectator to take more of a passive approach, as they are required to rely only on what the director chooses to show us, and not on our own analysis. We are being led through the narrative as a passenger of Ree and are encouraging to feel and think as she does, rather than actively deconstruct the themes and messages and apply them to our own experiences. The POV shots, especially in the opening scenes at the community centre align us emotionally with Ree as an outsider of the neighbourhood and grasp onto her to help us piece together the experience. We easily adopt her resentment towards the patriarchal and unfair rules of the county and look negatively at the characters as she would. On the other hand, it could be argued that a restricted narrative, one full of mystery and ambiguity, encourages an active spectator who needs to think actively to fill in the story gaps intentionally left by the director. This is in direct contrast to a conventional narrative from a mainstream film, in which it is much easier to passively watch and understand without effort.
In typical Coen Brothers style, NCFOM is a blend of genres intended to keep the spectator engaged and surprise us with the unexpected conventions of a variety of genres, which therefore provokes an active response of trying to keep up with the shifts in tone. The most obvious genre is the Western, as the props, Sheriff character and the dusty, wide landscape (especially at the beginning of the film) also evokes a classic Western feel. However, it is intentionally avoiding (or barely uses) other obvious old Western conventions such as saloons, horses, wordy street duels or the hero Sherriff saving the day. Surprisingly, the film is often quite funny. The backwards country folk, such as the deputy Sheriff and Carla-Jean’s mother have a southern wit and a slapstick element to their performance. Moss and Bell also tell the odd-joke, and even Chigurh pulls a few funny faces. The spectator is compelled to make sense of the frequent shifts in tone from violent/serious to light-hearted/funny. Elements of Film Noir, such as the neon motel signs, the shadows in the rooms, and the twists in the narrative. If they were isolated, they would provoke more of a passive response. A comedy film wants the spectator simply to be entertained, a thriller would want suspense, however this blend of multiple genres triggers an active response, as the spectator is constantly required to react and interpret the different conventions and connotations.
NCFOM is a film is full of ellipses (gaps in the story) that require the spectator to ‘fill in the gaps’, the most notable being death of Moss, which would have traditionally been the climax of the story but is instead shown unceremoniously off-screen. Other moments, such as the Chigurh cleaning the back of the chicken truck, or checking his boots after seeing Carla-Jean, only imply what might have happened off-screen, and require some intellectual ‘piecing together’ from the audience. Chigurh himself isn’t mentioned by name until 1 hour into the film, and the audience is not given any formal introduction or backstory regarding his motives. The film also ends with an unresolved cliff-hanger, as Chigurh isn’t defeated, Bell has a vivid dream of death, and are never fully sure what happened to the money, though Chigurh is most likely to have taken it. Then what was the purpose of the film? It appears to be more of a sensory experience, a ‘window’ of an episode, and not a mainstream heroic blockbuster.
Like Winter’s Bone, NCFOM is thematically dense and has frequent symbolism that needs to be deciphered by the spectator in an active way. A prime example is Bell’s closing monologue, in which he describes a dream where he is following his long-deceased father in the desert and his father appears to be preparing a place for Bell to rest. This is the last moment of the film and allows time for the spectator to linger on this closing thought and try to decipher it. What is the meaning of this dream? Chigurh also reflects complex thoughts, such as ‘you’ve been putting it up your whole life’, during the coin toss scene, which is ominous and ambiguous, and leads to more questions than answers.
How far does your chosen film demonstrate the importance of visual and soundtrack cues in influencing spectator response? Refer in detail to at least two sequences.
Spectators respond to cues in the text. They respond to those cues in ways that are often unconscious. For example, the use of a close-up to indicate that something is important. As spectators, we will unconsciously pick up on that idea, store it away, and realise that later in the film that piece of information will be useful.
Visual cues are things such as: the costume that the characters wear (the black costume of Chigurh in ‘No Country for Old Men’ (Coen, US, 2007) connotes his innate evilness; the unflattering plaid shirts and working boots worn by Jennifer Lawrence as Ree in Winter’s Bone (Granik, US, 2010) anchor that film in the Ozarks: a place where delicate femininity has no place. Or, it could be the use of mise-en-scene. For example, the setting or the backdrop to a scene. As spectators, we will pick up on these cues. We will decode them and infer from them something about a character or a situation. Sound cues could be in the form of dialogue, sound effects, or a non-diegetic soundtrack. The use of a soundtrack, for example, would be to influence a spectator's emotional response to a scene - the use of dramatic music will indicate that something dramatic is about to happen in the scene and pre-warn and prepare the spectator for that response. Visual and sound cues are used in both films. It's arguable that ‘Winter's Bone’ relies on such cues to shape a spectator response in a more straightforward way. For example, to create a strong affective response to Ree’s situation. By contrast, ‘No Country for Old Men’ makes the spectator work harder in terms of determining what their response might be, by often undercutting and surprising the spectator through giving visual cues that are then undercut by the scene that follows.
The first sequence I will be exploring is shared by Chigurh and Lewellyn at a motel, where Chigurh is essentially hunting Lewellyn. We see Chigurh use a sort of tracker in his car, which serves as our first soundtrack cue. The beeping of the tracker serves as a visual cue to the spectator that this is the sort of tether to the money which is in Lewellyn’s possession. The systematic beeping quickens, like a pulse, which allows the spectators to insinuate that he is about to confront Llewellyn. We then cut to Lewellyn in his motel, where the visual cues of him constructing something with tent poles creates suspended questions in the spectator’s head, as we are made to wonder, what is he building, as well as how is Chigurh able to track the money? The cross-cutting between Chigurh and Llewelyn creates a cat and mouse chase thrill, where it is clear that Lewellyn is unaware of the fact that he will be caught, or so we are made to think. The closeups on Chigurh's feet as he edges closer towards Lewellyn’s motel room almost gives us nothing to work with, as we are given little information about where Chigurh stands, however, the spectators make an assumption that he is close to Lewellyn through visual cues, and are therefore made to actively make sense of the action on screen. This gives Chigurh a predator like demeanor where his stealth and Llewelyn’s naivety causes us to believe that this sequence is sure to end in blood. Indeed, they are proven correct, however these expectations are subverted in typical Coen fashion. As Chigurh’s signature choice of weapon of a gas pressure, edges onto screen, through visual cues we instantly assume what is about to take place. Lewellyn will be found and killed and Chigurh will take the money. Throughout the film, the presence of the gas pressure gun serves as a signifier of the oncoming blood and gore, and in this instance the spectators expect no less. Nonetheless, despite their expectations for this, when entering the motel room, the spectators are once against befuddled, where not only are we not met by Lewellyn, but the blood bath which takes place entirely takes the spectators by surprise and horrifies them, as it is not just the execution of one that takes place but an all-out massacre. The Coen brothers employ this use of borderline gratuitous violence to completely subvert and undermine the expectations which spectators are continuously made to form throughout the film, in order to gain a sense of what is happening on screen.
In ‘Winter’s Bone’, by contrast, the spectator’s response is more clearly shaped by the visual and soundtrack cues in more predictable ways. The scene in which Ree is taken away by Thump Milton's women produces a strong response in the spectator of sympathy for Ree’s plight. The initial shots: hand-held tracking shots reveal Ree struggling to escape the clutches of three powerful women, her hair being pulled, place us with Ree, in the scene. And then, when the camera pulls back and remains at a distance from the scene, we can just faintly hear in the background the cries and the shouts of the women. We infer from this that she will be beaten up by these women; they've taken her into this private place; they have put the garage door down so that no one might see or hear what's happened. When we return to Ree some hours later, those visual and soundtrack cues have been confirmed. She is groggy. This is confirmed for us by the use of point of view shots which are shaky, low-angle shots (she is on the floor) and out of focus. All of which convey the sense of her having been knocked unconscious and groggily returning to some sense of reality. Later in the scene, we hear a truck approaching the barn. The reaction of the men suggest that they know who is driving the truck. And that they are fearful of the driver. The driver turns out to be Teardrop (Ree’s uncle). And what we have seen from him earlier in the film - that he is a scary and intimidating man - is confirmed by the fact that the similarly scary men with Milton are intimidated. One of them says that they're not going to wait around for Teardrop to emerge. In short, we're putting together these sound cues and visual cues to infer from that that Teardrop is someone with a reputation that that is intimidating to these men.
A second sequence from ‘No Country for Old Men’, again shared by Chigurh and Lewellyn at a motel, takes place where Lewellyn is looking through his money. The close up on the cash, serves as a further visual cue as he unearths the tracker from the money. This elicits an affective response in which the spectators feel satisfaction as the previous suspended question is answered (how was Chigurh able to track Llewellyn so easily), however, we also are made to feel the visceral tension and growing sense of urgency as he is finally aware that he has been found. Furthermore, when Lewellyn reaches for the telephone, the soundtrack cues of the ringing of the phone proposes further suspended answers: why isn’t reception picking up? The complete lack of music allows for the diegetic sounds to completely absorb the scene and pile onto the sense of danger. The rhythmic nature of the rings emulates that of a pulse which is about to flat line, which furthers our sense of panic, as spectators. The camera then pans and focuses on the door, which again acts as a visual cue, and instils a horror-genre esque response in that we anticipate Chigurh to barbarically enter at any moment and end Lewellyn’s life. The lingering shots from the door to Llewellyn and the telephone also capitalise on this sense of entrapment, and truly fortifies the idea that he has nowhere else to run and hide: he is cornered and must now meet his fate. These horror-genre-esque visual cues are continued when we see the shadows cast under the door frame which trigger a cognitive response, once again, in that we immediately assume Chigurh, the executioner, stands ready to bring about his fate. The silence of this scene serves as a soundtrack cue as we await the signature hissing sound of Chigurh’s air gun to trigger the crescendo of complete chaos, underscored by the diegetic sounds of Llewllyn’s laboured breathing as he tries to flee.
The use of visual cues and soundtrack cues shapes a spectator response in a much more straightforward way in ‘Winter’s Bone’. It is hard to imagine many spectators not aligning themselves with Ree and having a strong affective response to her plight. By contrast, the cognitive response demanded by spectators watching a Coen Brothers film, perhaps confused by its use of multiple genres (western and film noir); the absence of the expected confrontation between hero and villain; and the flouting of editing conventions by subverting our expectation of cross-cutting on two occasions in the film all lead spectators to ponder and have, perhaps, differing cognitive responses to the film.