Category: Random Thoughts

If you’re familiar with Netflix’s 2016 thriller Hush, then you know the madness and horror behind writer/director Mike Flanagan. His films and episodic series adapted from popular novels have brought new life to authors from the past and the present. 

Before the release of The Haunting of Bly Manor in October of this year, Flanagan struck Netflix gold when he left viewers holding onto a dreadful apprehension of death and the afterlife with, The Haunting of Hill House. The episodic series is loosely based on Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel of the same name. While the stories may share a few character names, the background that surrounds Hill House is very different.

What makes The Haunting of Hill House stand out is how it intertwines between the “then” and the “now” of the characters. The series follows Hugh and Olivia Crain and their five children as they renovate an old manor. The idea is simple, buy a fixer-upper, sell it for a profit and begin building them a forever home. This is where simplicity got the best of the family. While the paranormal veer from Hugh and Olivia, the horror isn’t lost on their kids.

Hill House opens with the Crain’s oldest child, Steven, giving a brief narration of the house. From the start, loops of the past and present are revealed. The story moves very quickly, shifting back and forth between characters and time. The trauma from their childhood has a different effect on all five kids. Whether it’s acceptance, drugs, or denial, each family member deals with their past differently.

Flanagan utilizes incredible cinematography to convey each of their traumatic experiences. The most talked-about aspect of his series is the use of his extras as hidden ghosts. Within each show, during the flashbacks of the family’s time at Hill house. The haunting characters lurk in the background, some easily visible while others need to be sought out.

Flanagan’s intricate adaptation of Jackson’s novel is fascinating for an audience that appreciates uncovering a mystery before the series ends.  I’d advise film buffs to watch episode 6, “Two Storms,” constructed in five lengthy takes. It was a bold move that is a cinematic marvel. I’d recommend The Haunting of Hill House for all those that enjoy a good story as well as something beautiful to watch.  

The frigid morning wreaked havoc on Glendora’s knees as she descended her staircase. With each pop she murmured under her breath about holding off on knee replacement. Although she was in her sixties Glendora felt youthful and hid her ailments from her daughters. She swore she’d never turn out like her own mother complaining about her pain, “If I woke up and nothing hurt, then I’ve probably died.” Glendora’s pain was trivial, and she didn’t feel the need to share it with the world.

At the bottom of the stairs Glendora slid her feet into light pink house slippers and slowly strolled to the kitchen. She placed a kettle on the stove and turned the burner on high. As she reached for her Folgers Instant Coffee her cat Hershey jumped onto the counter.

“You know you’re not supposed to be up here.” 

Hershey nudged into Glendora’s stomach, purring and crying with hunger. Setting the coffee aside she walked into her pantry and grabbed a can of cat food. A loud howl came from the stove and Glendora scurried over to remove the kettle from the heat. She scooped the Royal Canin into Hershey’s bowl and placed the spoon in the sink. As she bent over Hershey jumped off the counter and started weaving between her legs. She placed the food on the floor and stroked his back as he devoured his food.

When she stood upright a cloud of dizziness surged to her head. Holding tight to the counter she regained her balance and went back to making her coffee. Pouring hot water over the Folgers sent an aroma in the air that filled her senses. She shook two packets of Sweet’n Low into her cup and topped it off with milk. 

After retrieving the newspaper from her porch, she thumbed through each section until reaching Sports. She folded it perfectly along the crease and placed it onto her husband’s end table; just as she did every day since the day he passed. Glendora sat in her double recliner, let out an uneasy sigh, and pulled out the Entertainment section. Reaching into the recliners console she pulled out her erasable pen and a dictionary. Glendora carefully crimped the paper into a perfect square around the crossword puzzle.

“One across.  World’s largest rain forest.”    

Just as she was writing the “n” for Amazon, Hershey jumped onto her lap. “Listen here cat, you’re going to have to curl up on your blanket, your mommas got some sleuthing to do.”  Glendora spread a blanket in the adjacent recliner and placed him in the middle. Hershey persisted through five “nos’” before lying down. She pushed her glasses up to meet her eyeline and focused back onto her crossword.

“Five down.  The Crown streaming provider.”    

     Whether I’m writing a short story or a script, I often find myself stuck in moments of writer’s block.  Yes, this may seem odd, considering I want to write for a living, but I believe it happens to the best of us.  I’ve researched and listened intently to instructors on creative ways to find a rhythm to either start or continue my flow, and one that works best for me, write what I know.  More so than often, the narrative begins with family.  When integrating moments from the past or present, I can create content.  I even go as far as looking through photos to relive and to capture the setting.  If you find times when you get stuck or too focused on one element, give this technique a try.  Below is an example of a photo I recently found of my nephew Logan fishing. 

Casting Lines

     The early sunrise glistens off Santa Margarita Lake creating ripples of glitter dancing on the water.  Sean and his youngest son, Logan, are anchored just off the dock, preparing their first lines to cast.  Sean softly bites his bottom lip as he intricately pierces his bait hook through a night crawler. Logan’s eye focuses on Sean’s hands, and he processes each step.

“Alright, Logan, do you think you can hook the worm by yourself?” 

     Logan remains silent as he pulls a night crawler from the Styrofoam cup filled with soil.  The worm wiggles between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“You got him?”

     Logan nods his head, bares down on his grip, and moves the worm closer to the hook.  He takes a small breath and pulls the hook directly through the center of the night crawler.

“I did it!”

“Nice!  Do you remember how to cast?”

“Yessss…but I’m gonna watch you cast yours first.”

     Sean hooks his index finger over the line and pulls it toward the rod.  He flips the reel bail with his opposite hand, aims the pole toward his target, and extends his arm and reel just over his shoulder.  He thrusts the rod forward, and the fishing line soars through the crisp morning air.  Sean closes the bail and slowly reels in the line.  

“Hey Dad, when can I get a fishing pole that isn’t made for a kid?”

     Sean takes a hand off his fishing rod and pats Logan’s hand, “Let’s keep practicing with this guy for a little while longer.  Now go ahead, cast your line.”

“Ok.”

     Logan presses the button on the reel of his spincasting rod, with his right thumb, he pulls the rod back, and just as it reaches over his head, he releases his thumb.  A whistle hums as the line soars through the air.  He looks up at Sean and whispers, “Now we wait.”

     Logan watches as his dad reels the line in slowly.  He moves his wrist in sync with Sean’s and keeps pace with his drag on the line.  Just as Sean brings in his cast Logan asks, “So can I have a donut now?”

     Sean laughs, “Bring in the rest of your line, and we can break into the donuts.”

     Logan begins to reel faster than he usually would, and Sean interrupts his pace. “Slow it down. I think I see a fish.”

     Logan’s twirl of the wrist comes to a stop.  He looks into the water and spots a shadow swimming near his bait.  Just as the fish approaches the worm, Logan gives the line a slight pull.  He feels a little tug on his rod, and his line starts to release from his rod.

“Hold tight to pole and tighten your line.”

     Logan alternates his technique between reeling the line fast and letting it out.  He looks up at his dad, and Sean reaches over and helps Logan continue reeling in the fish.  As the line’s end emerges from the water, a rainbow trout is hooked onto Logan’s hook. 

“Nice catch!”

     Logan smiles up at his dad. “Can you help me with the hook?”

     Sean grabs hold of the trout with his left hand and reaches for the hook with his right.  Slowly he pulls the hook out of the trout’s mouth. “Would you like to let him go?”

“Yes, please.”

     Logan grasps onto the fish with both hands.  He leans over the side of the boat and gently swooshes the fish in the water before letting him go.  He gains his balance back on his seat and gives his dad a high five.

“So… now can I have a donut?”

“You don’t want to wash your hands?”

“Dad, I already touched a worm!  I don’t think the fish is going to hurt.”

     Sean laughs and grabs two chocolate donuts from a brown paper bag in the ice chest. “There’s nothing like fishing and donuts, is there?”

     Logan takes a big bite from his breakfast, shakes his head, and declares, “Nope!”

When asked, “what’s in a name,” many might jump to “that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” While Shakespeare presented his audience with the simple fact that Juliet would’ve chosen Romeo regardless of his last name, the hook is, a name says so much of who we are.  Whether it was selected for symbolic meaning or passed down through generations, a name portrays us.  Some may choose to forego our last name and find the simplicity in using one name.  While others decide their name doesn’t fit them and appoint themselves with another.   But what if you didn’t have a choice?  What if you were, Extra #1, Stand-In, Tall Guy, or even Watermelon Woman?  How far would you go to establish yourself and reclaim that power back?

In Cheryl Dunye’s 1996 film, The Watermelon Woman, she not only does this but also delivers a powerful message.  Her narrative style is presented in various ways that captivate the viewing audience.  She not only portrays the fictional film as a documentary but adds the element of the story.  Dunye presents characters that are relatable and were fitting for the time.  In 1996, same-sex marriage was very present in the media.  The Defense of Marriage Act was passed by the 104th United States Congress and signed into law by President Clinton.  This defined marriage as an act between one man and one woman.  Though The Watermelon Woman presents its audience with tropes and stereotypes of black actors/actresses, it also shined a light on the LGBTQ community.

Dunye’s protagonist, Cheryl, is determined to give an actress that she has come to admire an authentic name.  While the credits present the black actress with “watermelon woman,” Cheryl realizes that she is so much more than a stereotype.  She begins by asking people on the street if they’ve heard of the watermelon woman, and the story quickly evolves into an in-depth investigation.  She first enlists her best friend Tamara but begins receiving help from a customer (Diana) at the video store where she’s employed.  As Cheryl and Diana’s investigation intensifies to discover the truth behind the actress, so does their relationship.

Cheryl’s documentary heats up when they discover the watermelon woman’s name is Fae.  They not only find her name but also uncover she too was a lesbian.  Fae had a secret relationship the director of Plantation Memories, Martha Page.  Cheryl and Diana’s interview with Page’s sister doesn’t go as planned when Cheryl outs her sister for being in a secret relationship with Fae.  When they finally contact Fae’s partner from her later years in life, June Walker, Cheryl, is only left with a letter.  She urges her to tell Fae’s story to define their history.

Dunye elegantly weaves a documentary style with narrative structure and freelance b-roll footage that works.  The Watermelon Woman may be fictionalized, but it proves that the credit of a “mammy” is not a recognizable name.  It disrespects the representation of who someone is.  In 1996, while Leonardo DiCaprio was portraying Shakespeare’s Romeo in Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet, Cheryl Dunye was defining history and concluding there is more in a name than smelling as sweet as a rose.  She rediscovers history, presents the present, portrays all communities and races, all through a name, Fae Richards.

Academy Award winner Damien Chazelle is known for his cinematic style and techniques on the big screen, but in his newest 9-minute short titled “The Stunt Double,” he took out one key element: widescreen. The La La Land director is famous for thinking outside the box and challenging what the viewer sees. He took a gamble and filmed in 2.55:1 CinemaScope to capture the elaborate musical numbers and large location shoots, including shutting down Interstate 405 in Los Angeles for his 2016 film. For Chazelle, taking risks in the formatting of a movie is admirable. So why not roll the dice on Apple’s promotional ad for iPhone 11? Unlike any other ad Apple has released, the short film is shot vertically for its entire duration on an iPhone 11 Pro. This format is something Damien Chazelle calls Vertical Cinema. 

“So how does Vertical Cinema differ from regular cinema?” you may ask. Before the first widescreen movie in 1953, everything was shot in 4:6 to be correctly formatted for televisions. After that, all widescreen film would have to be recut with “pan and scan” for the home viewers: it was all about changing the aspect ratio of what the viewer saw. When films were cut with “pan and scan,” they lost most of the landscape and, in a sense, the director’s genuine vision for the movie. This leads us to the most crucial question: Why challenge the viewer with a 9:16 ratio when the eye is trained to look side to side, not up and down? Well… we have social trends to thank for that.       

Vertical cinema is not a new format for video. If you own a smartphone, you may already have vertically filmed footage today. Smartphone app users, on Facebook, Instagram, and similar apps use this composition to post videos to their stories. However, this aspect ratio has gained widespread recognition and been elevated by TikTok. The app, whose subscribers spend an average of 52 minutes a day on, has pushed vertical composition into the forefront of how an audience views a video.

In a sense, one can say that Chazelle’s featurette, “The Stunt Double,” takes the viewer on a journey through movie history with the same social trends of vertical ratio. Classified as cinema, the film comes with the same expensive sets, actors, grips, gaffers, and of course, Damien Chazelle. The film is told through the eyes of the lead actor portraying a movie’s stunt double. When the parachute doesn’t open for Chazelle’s lead actor, he relives various scenes from his past. Each scene showcases a different genre and blended with an introduction title. The actor steps in, does the risky action scene, and “cut.” With each passing moment in time, there is only one thing missing, the kiss. 

The movie seems simple enough to film, but how exactly was Chazelle able to fill the frame so the viewer can watch without missing the real estate of a full-frame? The trick was to stop thinking horizontally and allow the full frame of the shoot to be vertical. Using an upright image, the director of photography can highlight pops and elongated scenery at a heightened level. Viewers should also take into account that his flick was filmed with handheld devices in mind. 

“The Stunt Double” was a way for Chazelle to bring back the magic of his first films when he was young. Movies were all about shooting on an old VHS camcorder, finding the best frame, and recreating what he imagined a Hollywood film would look like. While shooting Apple’s promotional ad, he realized that Vertical Cinema gave the eyes something to play with, a fresh take on film ratio.

Daughters of the Dust: The Visual Style of Julie Dash

History has been told through fairytales, passed down through generations by our elders, and written in history books.  These stories have been defining the present and molding the future for centuries.  We learn to base our reactions and decisions on the “would haves” and the “should haves” of our ancestors.  Whether you follow in footsteps and attend the same schools or even have the same jobs, you’re basing your historical past decisions.  The traditions you enlist in life become an intriguing addition to the stories that will be passed along to your family’s future members.  In some instances, these stories become more significant and make history by being told in a larger format.

Writer and Director Julie Dash took the stories of the past and found a way to keep them alive by sharing them with the world.  Daughters of the Dust is something I’d call Dash’s passion project.  She began the narrative story, loosely based, from her own father’s past, and after she completed UCLA’s Graduate Program, she received funding for the film.  The movie was released in 1991, and Dash’s Griot style storytelling received critical praise.  The theme of “family” makes a strong impact throughout the movie’s entirety.  Her use of dialog and colors gives off a strong representation of a tribal community that has yet migrated to the Western states.  I also appreciated the motif of a camera and photographing the family.  This not only represents part of the past but keeps stories of traditions and storytelling viable.

The artistry and expressive style with Dash’s characters throughout the film bring emotional impact to an audience.  This not only creates an attachment but personifies what we see on screen.  There are moments when you compare characters with members of your own family.  Within your family hierarchy, you may have a grandmother who embraces traditions and the past’s value, much like Nana Peazant.  Perhaps you have an Aunt that is as negative as Haagar or a strong cousin, such as Yellow Mary.  Dash manages to find a connection between the Gullah tribe and links this to families in general.    

Dash also uses strong use of narrative with voice overs in both Illusions and Daughters of the Dust.  This method gives a poignant insight to either the main character or a supporting role (Eli and Eula’s unborn chile).  The narration is done with such balance that it isn’t about telling the story but providing depth to an underlying meaning.   

I believe Daughters of the Dust is relatable to everyone and cinematic wonder.  Visually, the film is beautiful from all angles.  Her setting and chosen shots emulate a family embracing the old and new ways of life.   Traditions and values of the Peazant family remain strong, even with disagreements.  The dusty old can that Nana Peazant carries is a reminder to the family that their bond is sacred.  Whether they are together or apart, they will forever remain as one unit.  Daughters of the Dust may be approaching the thirtieth anniversary, but the film remains historic.

Cold Case.  Forensics.  Jane Doe.  Visalia Ransacker.  East Area Rapist.  The Night Stalker.  The Golden State Killer.  Joseph James DeAngelo. 

While some of these names may sound familiar to you, I’ve heard each of them while growing up in California.  As eerie as this may seem, unsolved crimes are a trivial fact, no matter where you live.  For California, there was always one case, one criminal, that loomed in the background, the Golder State Killer.  To use the word satisfying might be an understatement when an arrest was made on April 24, 2018, for the man who terrorized the state.  Forty-four years after his crimes began, the survivors and family members who had lost loved ones could finally take a deep breath and put a bit of the past behind them.

This summer, HBO released a 6-part docuseries, “I’ll Be Gone in The Dark,” for this very case.  The series is based off, I’ll Be Gone in The Dark: One Women’s Obsessive Search for the Golden State Killer by Michelle McNamara. Her obsession with true crime started at a young age when a murder occurred in her childhood neighborhood.  Her blog, True Crime Diary, highlighted and gave her reading community another angel to examine unsolved cases.  McNamara delicately wrote articles of these crimes, and within her writing, she gained an extreme following.  Her stories were driven to “find a face on an unknown killer,” and she was consumed to find new evidence while looking at these cases. 

What makes “I’ll Be Gone in The Dark” so dynamic is it doesn’t just focus on the Golden State Killer; it gives the audience a look into Michelle McNamara’s life.  Her death in 2016 shook her True Crime followers, and this series provides a unique look at the madness for the truth that drove Michelle.  Her story is told by Husband, Patton Oswald, her researcher, Paul Haynes, various detectives, and other loyal crime bloggers she interacted with while researching the Golden State Killer.  Each episode builds off pieces of evidence that Michelle hooked onto and continuously brought up while investigating the case. 

There is something so intriguing, and haunting, how HBO managed to intertwine the case against the Golden State Killer with Michelle’s life.  The drive she held to find the man behind the mask becomes even more satisfying as the docuseries wraps in episode six.  It’s an absolute shame Michelle never witnessed the arrest of Joseph DeAngelo.  My hope is that she knew how much her work helped solve the case.