The term 'screen' can have many different meanings. one of these meanings is to hide or even protect something or someone. On the other side of the scale, a screen could also refer to making something visible to us. From the start we have this division, separating two sides of the 'screen'. On one side, we have our world, the world we live our everyday lives in, go to work, come home and so forth. On the other side of this division we have the world of the film, which could be anything, a surreal sci-fi world, or even just a world similar to ours. this division allows us to 'enter' this other world. This adds to the idea that the screen is a 'semi-permeable membrane' it allows the spectators to
"plunge into the film, to temporarily dissolve part of his/her bodily boundaries and give up his/her individual subject status, in favour of a communal experience and a self-alienating objectification; and, pointing inward, identification means the spectator can absorb the film, make it his or her own,"
(Elsaesser, T. (2010). Cinema as Door. In: Film Theory. New York: Routledge. p37.)
Obviously this concept has some major flaws, such as what if the audience member thats called hangs up, or doesn't say certain things, resulting in the film not being able to progress. But the fact that this is becoming a reality just opens that metaphorical door a bit further.
The next thing i want to discuss is the rise in 3D technology and how its opening that door even further, allowing the audience to completely lose themselves in the film. When stereoscopic technology (red/blue glasses) came around, it was brilliant, although quite gimmicky, it was often used on footage of things like bugs and i vaguely remember as a kid when a Doctor Who episode used it too. But nowadays with the whole 'Real 3D' its added a whole new essence to watching films, its a lot easier to get sucked in to a film, not just because things fly at you, but the fact that it adds so much depth to the movie. Last night i saw the new Resident Evil: Aferlife, and the opening sequence of the film was astounding. it featured a busy Tokyo crossing, while it was pouring down with rain. There were people rushing about in there everyday lives, but one japanese woman was stood perfectly still. The camera, which was focused on her shoes, slowly panned up her body as the actors names were appearing on screen. The rain from the scene appeared to be everywhere in front of you, and around you. And even managed to get on your glasses, to which the natural response would be to attempt to wipe your glasses clean. I know I said I wouldn't be talking about title sequences in great detail but I seemed to have gotten sucked into this writing for a while now, thanks to the parergon. To end this post i shall leave you with a quote:
"when we look at a painting we take the frame to be part of the wall, yet when we
look at the wall the frame is taken to be part of the painting: '. . . the parergonal
frame stands out against two grounds, but with respect to each of these two
grounds, it merges into the other' (Derrida, 1987, p. 61)"
(Marriner, R. (2002). Derrida and the Parergon. In: Smith, P. and Wilde, C. A Companion to Art Theory. Cornwall: Blackwell Publishers Ltd.. p351.)
Good post Chris and some interseting issues to think about. The Parergon shifts as technology breaks the frame and coming out of immersive experiences becomes potentially much harder and perhaps the boundaries between what is constructed and what is real becomes dissolved. Jean Baudrillard argues that a simulacrum is not a copy of the real, but becomes truth in its own right: the 'hyperreal' and this is perhaps the next area to investigate.
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