FILM

A STUNNING TECHNIQUE

the startling achievements of Satoshi Kon and Edgar Wright

By Karina Suffle

Every mind is a state of mind

When we think of art, we think of something visually appealing. Cinema, or the motion picture, is the world's most recent visual art form and might be its highest because it incorporates writing, story-telling, photography, drawing, painting, animation, visual effects, music acting and other skills that can help support a visual medium. For generations, filmmakers have been developing artistic principles for how to create, construct, and experiment with the form of film.

Satoshi Kon and Edgar Wright are two wildly different directors, but they have one thing in common: they are using similar editing techniques to advance how we understand narrative in film. Since film is time based, Kon and Wright use every visual tool -- the color of clothes, second reads, actions synchronized to music, and matching cut scenes -- to begin and end a scene.

A genius of technique and feeling

Satoshi Kon was born on October 12, 1963 in Hokkaido, Japan. He became a renowned film director, animator, screenwriter, and manga artist. From Kon’s first film World Apartment Horror (1991) to his final short film finished just before he died in 2008, Good Morning, Kon’s editing is so fast that it would seem impossible to replicate it in a live action film. For example, in live action films, it takes about ten frames before an image completely occupies the viewer’s vision; in animation, it takes about three frames. That difference in speed allows Kon to blur the line between reality and fantasy, a common theme in his movies, especially Paprika and Millennium Actress.

Paprika is about two women who are actually the same woman, Dr. Chiba Atsuko, in two different realities. The opening four minutes have five different dream sequences and Kon connects them all through matchcuts. Kon has always been creative with his cut and transition scenes, but he really pushes those limits in Paprika.

The double life

The first match cut is in the dream of a patient Paprika is treating. At a circus a patient starts sinking into the ground, as if he’s too heavy for it. This causes him to fall and that fall is then seen from a bird’s eye view, showing the patient now falling towards the same ground he just fell through as Paprika uses a trapeze to catch him The second match cut starts with Paprika catching the man and using the force of swinging back down to push the patient through a paper screen and into a jungle where the patient is swinging on a vine through the trees: only this time he’s holding Paprika.

The third match cut is after they fall off the vine. The patient gets up because he’s trying to stop someone from choking him on a train. The fourth match cut is of Paprika hitting the man choking her patient on the head with a suitcase. As soon as she hits him, she's holding a broken guitar because she's a part of a 70’s brawl. The fifth and final match cut is the patient chasing a mysterious character into an old warehouse. The patient catches up and stands in the doorway of what was the warehouse and is now looking into a hotel hallway witnessing a man falling to the ground after getting shot in slow motion. All this happens in an opening sequence that lasts three minutes.

Fall, fall, fall

Kon’s brilliance is the way each match cut acts as a bridge to the next scene. They support the flow of the narrative and without them the audience would get lost between transitions. A lot of Kon’s transitions are designed to demonstrate the collapsing of realities, whether it is between the characters in the movie or the audience experiencing the movie. In this case, Kon blurs the boundaries between waking, dreaming, and the audience.

An example of that is when Dr. Chiba is out looking for the thief that stole the technology to enter people’s dreams. On her way there she stumbles upon a clue, that all she has to do is jump over a railing to get to it. As she jumps, the railing starts to melt and then everything around her starts to melt, and she discovers that she has jumped off the terrace of a high building. Normally, Dr.Chiba is the character representative of waking, yet she is caught between waking and dreaming.

Kon uses the action of Dr. Chiba jumping over an object to create a unique melting transition that merges waking and dreaming. He tiptoes over the line even further by including Dr. Chiba, who symbolizes the waking reality inside a dream. This causes the audience to be visually aware of what they can and can’t trust in the film. If that idea of trust is resolved in Paprika, it is the entire logic and narrative thrust of Millennium Actress, which has a much more complex relationship to cause and effect than the other film.

Does an actress ever know who she is?

Millennium Actress is a meta-story about two men interviewing an elderly woman, Chiyoko Fujiwara, about her acting career. One of the men gives her a key that she lost and the two men learn that Chiyoko wanted to return the key to the man she loved; however, there was a problem because he was running from the police. Knowing this, she acts in movies where she is always chasing after a man, as if reenacting the original loss.

Because Chiyoko is so old and has been in so many different movies, she often mixes up her life between reality and fiction. Kon is famous for his discontinuity editing and skewed perspectives which allows him to merge all the different realities of the story into a single timeline. This causes Chiyoko’s memories to merge with the movies she’s done, because every movie she starred in has a similar plot to her own.

Every moment is real even when it's false

An example of this is when she meets the police officer who is pursuing the man she loved. He comes to her to atone for what he did during his time as an officer of war, and gives Chiyoko a letter from the man she loved, telling her that he’ll be waiting for her in his hometown, Hokkaido, painting the snowy landscapes. Reading this note encourages her to look for him one last time. She runs out into the rain in order to catch a cab, runs through traffic and eventually catches the last train to Hokkaido. During her run Chiyoko is reminded of her movie characters and the similar situations they were in when they were chasing after someone they loved.

The scene continues with a landslide blocking the train tracks and without hesitation, Chiyoko leaps out of the train and into the woods. As she struggles going through the thick snow and dark woods, she only has the moon to guide her. The gloomy and eerie atmosphere reminds her of all the characters in her movies who have told Chiyoko that her search is useless. She keeps running away from them until she finds a road and a friend that can take her to the end of her journey.

What's underneath: many, many depths of character

During this fast-paced travel montage, a lot of Chiyoko’s memories get mixed together and Kon uses obscure viewpoints for match cuts, like the bottom of Chiyoko’s foot after tripping in the snow. The scene should be of her getting back up, but it goes back in time to when she was younger. Kon often uses objects to change perspective. When Chiyoko drops her key, she picks it up and sees three different versions of herself in rapid succession.

Each cut is matched with the sound of horns honking, horses galloping, and the footsteps of people passing by. Kon edits so many different scenes that have already played throughout the movie that I couldn’t describe them all out of context. As impressive as the technique is, none of it would work without Kon’s commitment to actual sense. The disoriented editing demonstrates how Chiyoko remembers this moment: that she is always chasing her love.

Much like Kon, Edgar Wright has become a well renowned director for his unique editing style and attention to detail. However, unlike Kon, Wright is a live action director that does similar editing techniques as Kon, except he puts his own comedic spin on it; including, but not limited to steadicam tracking shots, dolly zooms, and an extensive reliance on music.

Wright was born on April 18, 1974, in Poole, Dorset, England where he continued his education at Bournemouth and Poole College of Art and Design. In1995, he began his career by making independent short films, that sparked his feature film, Fistful of Fingers, a western spoof that got picked for a limited theatrical and broadcast release on the satellite tv channel Sky Movies. Wright is recognized as an auteur for his face-paced and kinetic satirical films, including his recent hit Baby Driver, 2017. His signature editing techniques highlight the comedic edge of his films. Wright’s narrative style has a lot to do with telling the story through the perspective of his characters, a technique he uses in both, Scott Pilgrim vs The World and Baby Driver.

Another genius, a different sort but the same kind

Scott Pilgrim vs The World is based on the graphic novel of the same name. It’s about, surprise, Scott Pilgrim, a guy who’s in love with a girl named Ramona Flowers, and can’t go out with her until he defeats all seven of her evil exes. Scott is also the bass player for a band called Sex Ba-Bomb and Wright utilizes the band’s music as social cues, musical background, and transitional sound cuts. For example, we watch Sex Ba-Bomb practice as they also, rather strangely, provide the song for the opening credits.

Scott Pilgrim vs The World begins just like the graphic novel with the line: “Not so long ago. In the mysterious land of Toronto, Canada… Scott Pilgrim was dating a high schooler.” The scene continues with a friend of Scott’s shocked by this information, as if he were listening to the narration. Scott’s friends continue to talk about his high school girlfriend, Knives Chao, and how their relationship is going. Excited to meet this new girlfriend, the doorbell conveniently rings introducing Knives to the rest of the band. Scott, trying to impress Knives, suggests a song they should start, but the band disagrees and the drummer starts screaming, “WE ARE SEX BA-BOMB!! 1 2 3 4!” As they play, the camera slowly pans out until we’re behind a couch where Knives is sitting. The music picks up and the empty space between the couch and the band is filled with the opening title to Scott Pilgrim.

What are we watching? Apparently, Scott Pilgrim

Unlike other movies that are based on graphic novels, Wright integrates the artistic style of the graphic novel into the movie in comedic ways. When we meet a character, they are accompanied by a side description box, detailing their name, age, and a word or two description like, “Scott Pilgrim, 22 years old, Rating: awesome.” It’s a description Scott gives himself. Wright also adds words to sounds, like when Knives rings the doorbell, and an onomatopoeia of “DING DONG” appears. Wright blurs the words in and out of focus to emphasize that it’s far behind him. These are just small details, but they set the style and tone of Scott Pilgrim. Wright uses simple, but effective techniques in Scott Pilgrim, but in Baby Driver he really pushes these techniques to the limits.

Baby Driver is about a deaf guy named Baby, his music, and his car. Because Baby has a debt to pay, he drives getaway cars to pay off what he owes, but Baby doesn’t want to involve himself and the woman he loves in this line of work anymore and wants to get out, which is a classic last-heist-and-I’m-going-straight story, like The Getaway, Rififi, Ocean’s 8, etc.

Wright fills Baby Driver with a number of song and action sequences that are perfectly synced. For example, there is a shootout scene scored to the song Tequila, where every gunshot is on beat to the music. The opening, though scored to “Bellbottoms”, is an unbelievable bit of filmmaking, edits, syncopation and just drop-dead brilliance.

Go, Baby Driver, Go!

The opening of Baby Driver starts with a high-pitched ringing and continues until Baby starts playing “Bellbottoms”. After this the three people in Baby’s car get out of the car to rob a bank. Baby, keeping an eye on them until they enter the bank starts lip syncing, as if performing a private performance for himself. The three robbers from earlier get in Baby’s car and the fiery track of “Bellbottoms” immediately sets the mood for the car chase. Before he even became a filmmaker, Wright has always wanted to create a car chase scene to “Bellbottoms,” and given the chance, he creates a scene that looks as if the cars are dancing among themselves.

An Implausible Description of An Implausible Car Chase rendered Plausible by the great Edgar Wright (skip if you’ve seen the movie)

Wright begins with the sound of the engine revving to the beat of the music. The robbers jump into the car and the front seat passenger points forward showing us the direction we’ll be going in, but the car speeds in reverse. But in a reversal of a reversal Baby flips the car around so they’re facing forward instead and uses that momentum to make a sharp turn. Baby continues to speed down back alleys until he turns a corner running into a cop car that was heading towards the bank. The cop car makes an immediate u-turn to chase after Baby, but no matter how fast the cop car is Baby is able to get the cop car to crash into a civilian car while crossing an intersection causing a mass collision. Baby continues to dodge past cars and speed through red lights when another cop car appears. Unfortunately, this cop is a better driver than the first, but not better than Baby. A semi-truck starts pulling out of its parking spot and without hesitation Baby steps on his break and pulls on the emergency using the momentum of the car to glide behind the semi-truck allowing Baby to safely drive away and losing the cop car in the process.

Baby waits for the music to begin

Baby continues to speed towards the freeway and it doesn’t take long for another cop car to show up behind him. He has to avoid another cop car that’s coming from a nearby off-ramp on his right and a chain of spikes in front of him. Baby uses the same gliding trick as earlier and catches the end of the chain with his rear tire – sling-shotting it in the pathway of the cop car on his right and causes the cop car behind him to slow down to avoid the other cop car, thus giving Baby an opportunity to pass by them. As soon as Baby turns the corner, a swarm of cop cars is in pursuit towards Baby. Unable to lose them all on the streets, Baby decides to go up a one-way ramp towards the freeway avoiding oncoming cars and leaving the cap cars unable to follow him.

While Baby continues to drive on the wrong side of the freeway, he notices two red cars that look similar to his. He turns on a dime in order to catch up with those two cars. He slows down to the same speed as the other two cars to set up his plan to trick the helicopter above him.

Sing, Baby, sing!

When the cars go under the bridge, they become momentarily hidden, so Baby speeds in front of the car on his right and then immediately breaks forcing the car behind him to take his previous spot. When they out from under the tunnel Baby exits the freeway safely as the helicopter follows the wrong car. Baby continues to drive into a parking complex towards the very back of the lot. There, Baby parks the red car and everybody leaves it and enters the car parked next to them, successfully making their escape.

So, What are We to make of That?

There are many great visual tricks in the opening scene; Baby’s clothes, his lip syncing, the opening title. However, I believe that the most important aspect of the scene is the high-pitched noise we hear throughout the robbery.

The high-pitched noise is a hint that everything we’re hearing and seeing is from Baby’s perspective. Baby has a childhood hearing defect. That’s the ostensible reason for all the music in the film, it’s how Baby processes the world. Since music is a part of Baby’s world, Wright takes advantage of that and creates a world where music structures all the action. And in an action film this gives Wright’s editing style a deeper meaning than just an aesthetic technique; it’s really how he gives us access to the thinking of his characters.

It's all about character, the action that is

While filmmakers have been developing artistic principles on how to create, construct, and experiment with the form of film, Wright and Kon have developed their own artistic principles that support visual storytelling and a deep understanding of character. A common trait that Wright and Kon have that other filmmakers fail to incorporate is perspective and especially visual perspective.

Movies usually have multiple characters, but they don’t always follow the perceptions of the main character and often become immersed in the point of view of minor ones. This can confuse viewers and that’s where editing technique becomes so important. I believe this is what separates Wright and Kon from other directors. Other directors have been inspired by their editing techniques, but not by the logic that led them to these breakthroughs. Wright and Kon are tremendous examples of the right way to experiment and understand other people.

©Karina Suffle and the CCA Arts Review