And while I have no interest in documenting how this trend began, it does segue lovely into the topic of reality in film, with the possible threat of this television trend extending into a cinema near you. Sure, it seems far-fetched now to have big screen versions of reality programming, however, if box office numbers dive far enough, it certainly isn’t out of the realm of possibility. Let’s face it, films are given only their opening weekend for survival as it is; a feature length TV program would fit that bill rather nicely (and studios wouldn’t have to shell out 20 million to secure Bill from Tennessee).
More likely, the trend will be less cinema altogether, with more and more productions geared towards smaller screens, whether mobile, online, or television.
Nevertheless, reality is coming, in droves. Pandora’s Box has been dissected into shards with all the precision of a ninth grade biology lab, and the results are in: we love it. Heads of film studios knew this all along, of course. Many of the earliest films took on historical events, which would constitute reality through a long lens (or short lens in the case of cinema). The Birth Of A Nation springs to mind. Even today, in any given week, you can find at least two movies based on a true story playing at your local cineplex. In the mid-nineties, the Coen brothers went so far as to claim factual legitimacy for their completely fictitious masterpiece, Fargo.
It now seems a prerequisite in being considered “important cinema” that your story be based on fact: two of last year’s contenders for Best Picture were of such variety (Frost/Nixon, Milk), a third sure felt as if it were (The Reader), and a fourth could be classified as modern-day neo-realism (Slumdog Millionaire).
But exactly how far are we willing to go, and still be willing or able to call what we are seeing art?
The Italian neo-realists of the late forties, early fifties produced portraits of average people (often portrayed by non-actors), in everyday, somewhat mundane circumstances, and seen retrospectively, crafted meticulous works of cinematic art. Rossellini, De Sica, et al, were able to accomplish this because the themes were universal, and their treatment of them was handled with a delicacy that had no place for exploitation. Emotional resonance through image, sound, performance and editing created a lasting impression, which is why The Bicycle Thief can still move us today.
Around the same period in the US, the film noir movement took hold, and two films in particular stand out as taking the Bogart driven detective story to all new heights in terms of realism.
The Naked City was shot entirely on location in New York City, something that had never been done before, and focused completely on the procedure and methods used by police detectives in solving a murder case. Its director, Jules Dassin, made several noirs throughout his career, and while some were superior to The Naked City (Night and the City, Rififi are personal favorites of mine), none felt as real as the 1948 cult classic. It moves slower than most films of the genre, the payoff takes longer: in essence, we feel what it’s like to be a police detective of the day, the disappointments, the misleads, the drawing board being returned to time and again, before the break in case finally shows itself.
Another director of many great noir pictures, though today mainly remembered for his work in the Western motif, was Anthony Mann. A year before The Naked City was released, Mann directed a picture called T-Men, which took the audience deep inside the United States Treasury department as two undercover agents try to crack a counterfeiting operation in Los Angeles. The film opens with a preamble from the actual United States Treasury Department providing the film, not only a sense of realism, but giving the experience an almost propaganda-like quality.
This is heightened mid-way through the film, as an unknown secret service agent, following one of his counterparts and a known counterfeiter, takes the time to chastise a local merchant when the pair leave her stall, in the following, less that discreet manner:
Agent: You just took a counterfeit.
Merchant: I did not.
Agent: I’m with the Secret Service. The top ten in the till.
Merchant checks till, takes out bill.
Agent: I’ll have to take that out.
Merchant: Oh, but I’ll be out ten dollars.
Agent: You’re already out ten dollars. If you people who handle money would only look at it, there wouldn’t be any counterfeiting.
Agent tips the hat smugly, dragging his condescension along behind him as he continues his pursuit.
The film is considered second tier in the noir genre, however, the performances and action feel intimately real. Agents are beat up by thugs; they don’t narrowly escape the way modern day heroes wrangle their way out of danger after collecting the necessary information. The fat is completely trimmed, weeding out any unnecessary scenes (a valued asset of most genre pictures), and the atmosphere is set perfectly by lighting and shot composition that stands out even by today’s filmmaking standards.
These films were the precursor to later fare such as All the President’s Men, pictures that were based on actual events, where names were no longer even changed to protect the parties involved. People no longer desired this kind of anonymity for their past actions, it was slowly becoming all about the fifteen minutes.
More recent examples are Robert Altman’s The Player or the Charlie Kaufman-penned Being John Malkovich, fictitious fables incorporating real celebrities in their daily lives into the plot in ingenious ways.
As reality has crossed back and forth through cinema for the most part it has been handled in a manner befitting a cinematic experience. Yet, the Altmans’ and Kaufmans’ of the world are few and far between, and 21st Century reality seems to require less artistry than pure voyeurism, pornography without its many exuberant gratifications.
Should the entertainment field continue down this path, and there appears to be no sign that any other path is being considered, we should first reflect as audiences on where we are headed, and what section we are seated in along the way. Mob mentality becomes far easier to justify when we're smack in the middle, jaws gnashing, fists waving in the air. And perhaps that is the goal, to create a world where we are all reality-television stars in some way: our participation overruling our better judgment. However one fears upon arrival at this Truman-show like reality that we shall inadvertently glance down at our ticket and painfully notice it is of the one way variety. And then, the only alternative would be tuning out, of our own lives.
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As I was reading Regan's latest cinema blog, I thought immediately about the "Truman Show," and how everyone knew but him that he was a reality show in himself. Everyone involved knew everything about him, but he was in the dark. I felt a thud in my stomach thinking about the amount of control he was under in every aspect of his life - is that what we are all drawn in about with reality television? We say we want freedom, but with our media we are saying we want control.
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