Thursday, August 5, 2010

WEDNESDAY, MAY 5, 2010


The Long View

In this post, I invite you to take a long look at long takes. After this introduction, you will encounter a series of short discussions of a number of seminal, important, and/or impressive long takes to guide your exploration of the diversity, power, and beauty of the long take. The discussions vary in length and depth based on each particular long take’s richness and power to inspire. However, in some cases, especially near the end, the long takes are left to speak for themselves.
This post amounts to a long list of long takes for close study and casual enjoyment. Each long take chosen for inclusion has some merit, whether it be a masterpiece of filmmaking or just a wildly impressive series choreographed stunts. A link to each long take has been provided and where possible the video has been embedded.
My specific goals here are to celebrate the long take, to further its appreciation, and to offer some insights into the variety of its uses and powers. Just simply watching the series of long takes included below will provide exposure to the form, an enjoyable watching experience, and, perhaps, a few sublime moments.
If I had to pick a thesis, or at least a consistent theme, for this post that champions the long take, it would be—always have a good reason to cut.
A “long take” is an uninterrupted shot that lasts much longer than conventional editing pace, usually lasting a few minutes or more in length. Extreme examples are Hitchcock’s Rope, which consists of eleven ten-minute long takes and Alexander Sokurov’s Russian Ark, which is one 90-minute long take. Classic examples are the opening scene of Wells’ Touch of Evil and the traffic jam scene in Godard’s Weekend.
When done well, long takes can accomplish cinematic goals more effectively and engagingly than conventional editing or quick cutting. Here are some important examples:
(1) setting the entire tone of the film (e.g., the opening ofBoogie Nights);
(2) introducing the characters quickly and efficiently (e.g., the opening of The Player);
(3) driving the plot forward quickly and efficiently (e.g., the opening of Bon Fire of the Vanities);
(4) creating suspense and tension by interweaving actions (e.g., Touch of Evil);
(5) generating mystery and intrigue (e.g., the ending ofCache);
(6) charging simple actions with energy (e.g., going to the bathroom in Kill Bill Vol. 1):
(7) imbuing a sequence of actions with heightened emotion (e.g., entering the Copa Cabana in Goodfellas);
(8) making a scene seem like it’s really happening (e.g., getting the gas can in Reservoir Dogs);
(9) emphasizing specific details or actions (e.g., playing football in Elephant);
(10) placing the viewer in the perspective of specific character (e.g., walking through Jack Rabbit Slims inPulp Fiction);
(11) immersing the viewer in the action of a scene as if he/she were there (e.g., the car ambush in Children of Men);
(12) amazing the viewer with the elaborate staging of a complex scene; (e.g., the stairway fight in The Protector);
(13) captivating the viewer with compelling beauty (e.g., the funeral procession in I Am Cuba);
(14) conveying compactly the abstract themes and ideas of the film (e.g., the traffic jam in Weekend); and
(15) portraying profound connections not easily put into words (e.g., the burning barn scene in The Mirror).
Often, long takes involve intricate camera movements that follow the complex orchestration of intersecting actors and actions. Nevertheless, long takes can be simple and employ a still camera observing an ordinary scene. Two good examples of simple still long takes are the football scene in Van Sant’s Elephant and the final scene of Haneke’s Cache. Thus, for long takes, rather than camera movement, it’s the uninterrupted flow of the scene that is primary their power.
Long takes can employ several kinds of shots, such as tracking shots, crane shots, long shots, sequence shots, and steadicam shots. The “tracking shot” traditionally meant a shot where the camera was mounted on wheeled platform that moved along a track while filming a scene. In some cases, the dolly that rolled along he track would include a hydraulic arm that could smoothly “boom” or “jib” the camera on the vertical axis.
In the traditional tracking shot, the camera moved perpendicular to the axis of the camera lens, whereas when the camera moved parallel to the axis of the camera lens, the shot was traditionally called a “dolly shot.” Originally, tracking shots did not include complex pivoting movements, such as pans or tilts, or crane shots. An example of a traditional long take tracking shot is the traffic jam scene in Godard’s Weekend.
“Crane shots” are shots taken by a camera mounted on a crane to provide an overhead view, the so-called bird’s eye view. Well’s opening long take in Touch of Evil uses a masterful crane shot to follow the motion of a car through the streets of Tijuana.
“Long shots” (a.k.a. wide shots) typically show the entire object or figure under view and are mostly used as establishing shots but are also frequently employed in long takes. For example, Gus Van Sant uses a long-take long shot in Elephant in which a student walks from in front of the camera toward a school entrance far in the distance.
“Sequence shots” are long takes that involved sophisticated camera movement. The opening scene ofAltman’s The Player exemplifies a sequence shot where the camera follows several intersecting actions while intermittingly eavesdropping outside the main character Griffin’s office.
A “steadicam shot” employs a special stabilizing mount that isolates the camera operator’s movement from that of the camera, allowing an extremely smooth shot even when the operator moves quickly over an uneven surface. Famous early steadicam shots occur in Rocky where Rocky runs up the museum steps while training and inThe Shining where the camera follows Danny riding his tricycle. A more recent example would the scene inAtonement depicting the Dunkirk evacuation, which employed thousands of extras.
With the introduction of the steadicam, the distinction between the terms “tracking shot” and “sequence shot” effectively disappeared. Today, the term “tracking shot” refers to any shot where the camera follows the movement of a scene’s action, regardless of the complexity of the camera movement or whether a track is used. Though “tracking” in tracking shot once referred to the track on which the camera moved, it now refers to tracking the action.
Although long takes can be effective, even powerful, they carry the danger of drawing attention to themselves by either being sensational or self-satisfied. A good example is the opening scene in Bonfire of the Vanities, though such an effect may have been intended, as self-indulgence and narcissism are themes of that film. It’s very easy for a long take to become showy, even when shot well by a master. Even the virtuoso long take in Goodfellas where Henry and Lorraine enter the Copa Cabana through the backdoor and kitchen unwittingly draws attention to itself. Notably, Tarantino’s long takes in Reservoir Dogs,Pulp Fiction, and Kill Bill Vol. 1 discussed, which become more complex with each film, never become self-indulgent or self-referential, and none, except possibly the one from Kill Bill Vol. 1, could be described as the least bit showy.
Early Lumiere Tracking Shot (1898)
An early example of a long take using a tracking shot is the Lumiere Brothers tracking shot of Lyon, France. They mounted a camera on a train and filmed the scenery as the train arrived in Lyon. For this shot, the train tracks provided the track for the camera. All the motion in the scene derived from the motion of the camera. This early tracking shot demonstrates the flow and dynamism that can be created using long-take tracking shots.


Touch of Evil


The opening long take in Orson Wells’ Touch of Evil set the touchstone for long takes. In the shot, Wells uses a 3:31 minute crane/tracking shot. First, we follow a man place a time bomb in the trunk of a car. Then, as the camera tracks up, we watch two people get in the car and drive away. As the camera moves higher, we observe the car move through the streets of Tijuana. As we follow the car, Mr. and Mrs. Vargas cross the street in front of the car on their way to the US-Mexican border. The car and Mr. and Mrs. Vargas cross paths a couples of times, finally stopping at the border together. Eventually, just as Mr. and Mr. Vargas are about to kiss on the US-side of the border, the car blows up off screen and Wells cuts to the exploded car.
The shot is noteworthy for several reasons. First, it’s a prime example of modernist filmmaking. Wells tries to produce a reflection of the world by using complex crane and tracking movements to immerse the viewer in the scene and create an air of realism. All sorts of realistic interruptions and crossings occur as the scene unfolds continuously before our eyes. The length of the take and the complex orchestrations of movement trick us into thinking that what we are watching is really happening.
Second, Wells develops the plot significantly during the long take. We find out that Mr. Vargas is a police official who investigates drug rings and that he’s had some recent success of note. We also discover that Mr. Vargas recently married an American women from Philadelphia, that Mr. Vargas is going to the US with his wife for the first time, and that they are still in the “honeymoon” phase of their marriage. Eventually, the bomb goes off during their kiss, ending the long take with a cut of the exploded car, and offering a crime to be solved, which sets in motion the main action of the film.
Third, the scene presents a moving version of Hitchcock’s bomb-under-the-table scenario. We know the bomb is in the car and set to go off at some point. As Mr. and Mrs. Vargas move toward the US-Mexico border, they keep crossing paths with the car. Each time we fear for them because we don’t know when the bomb will go off.
Wells achieves both suspense and surprise with the scene. We are on edge as to when the bomb will go off while the car is in Mexico. However, once the care crosses the border into the US, we forget about it momentarily, as we are drawn into the loving couple’s embrace and kiss. Thus, we feel a jolt when the car blows up off screen.
Fourth, the scene exemplifies Wells’ own dictum that a director should never cut without good reason. Here, Wells does not cut until we need to see something that exists off screen—the exploded car.
Fifth, technically, the long take sets a standard for seamlessly weaving several movements together—the driving car, the walking Mr. and Mrs. Vargas, and the other border traffic—by using precisely timed and choreographed human, vehicle, and camera movements and only diegetic sound (i.e. sound generated within the narrative world of the film).
Touch of Evil Opening Scene:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yg8MqjoFvy4


The Player
The opening scene of Altman’s The Player reinvigorated the long take and contrasts nicely with the long take inTouch of Evil. The long take in The Player exemplifies postmodernism, as it offers a reflection on its reflection of the world. As such, it reflects on its reflection of the world. In other words, it presents the reflection and the mirror used to make the reflection. It uses two methods to comment on its mirroring that are common to postmodernism: (1) it’s self-referential or self-conscious of what it’s doing—using a long take—and (2) it’s medium-referential or self-conscious of the fact that it’s a film and of the world of film in which it resides.
The long take becomes self-referential when Walter Stuckle talks about directors not using long takes anymore while he’s walking in and out of the 8-minute long take. He starts by saying “the pictures they make these days are all MTV, cut, cut, cut, cut … .” Here, the film comments on itself as deviating from norm quick cutting that had come to dominate cinema.
Stuckle then praises Wells’ opening shot in Touch of Evilsaying that Wells set up the whole movie with that one shot. Here, the film tells us that in this opening shot Altman will do the same. Later, Stuckle reiterates, “I hate all this cut, cut, cut,” drawing attention to the fact that there has yet to be a cut.
The long take also becomes medium-referential when it opens with the supposedly non-diegetic dialogue “quite on the set,” “scene one take ten, marker” and then “and action,” which cues us to realize we are watching a “take” of a film, the one that happened to be used in the film, though it was probably not take ten. The film draws attention to the fact that it’s a film. Indeed, the painting behind the desk in the opening frame depicts a movie set.
The long take also includes comments on the history of cinema and long takes in several places. Stuckle mentions Well’s opening long take in Touch of Evil, exaggerating its length to six minutes. Later, when he comes back into the scene with another character, he mentions Hitchcock’s Rope being shot without cuts and the character he’s walking with mentions Bertolluci’s long take in The Sheltering Sky. Thus, the scene makes comments on the world of its medium—film history—and, in particular, the history of the technique it employs—the long take.
In addition, when asked to write down a pitch, a character responds, “it’s not about words; it’s about pictures; you’ve got to visualize,” providing yet another comment on the medium of film.
Stuckle references Touch of Evil’s long take twice in the shot, making clear that Altman found that long take to be an important influence and standard. Altman appears to be openly competing with Wells by outdoing his shot in complexity and length. Altman nods at Wells when he moves from a tracking shot to a crane shot to follow a car from above just like Wells did in Touch of Evil.
Like Wells, Altman uses the scene to develop the plot and introduce the characters. In the scene, we are told that the main character, Griffin, may be on the outs because of a shake up at the studio, and we see the paranoid Griffin receive a mysterious note.
The scene is often remembered for its hilarious pitch parodies. First, we get The Graduate Part II, where Mrs. Robinson now lives with Ben and Elaine, but has suffered a stroke. It will be “funny, dark and weird and funny, and with a stroke.” Next, we get “it’s kind of like a Gods Must Be Crazy except the Coke bottle’s now a television actress.” It’s “Out of Africa meets Pretty Woman.” Finally, we get “a psychic political thriller comedy with a heart.” It’s Ghost meets The Manchurian Candidate.”
However, the pitch parodies provide more than just a laugh and serve a larger purpose and function than just comic effect. Similar to the Vargas-car crossings in Touch of Evil, the pitch parodies structure the scene, though they are primarily comic rather than suspenseful. We get ready for a laugh each time the camera gazes into Griffin’s office because as the camera moves into position to listen in on Griffin’s meetings we know we are about to hear another silly pitch. We want to linger and listen to more, whereas in Touch of Evil at each crossing, we want Mr. and Mrs. Vargas to hurry up and move away from the car.
Moreover, during the pitch parodies, the scene develops Griffin’s paranoia and creates a foreboding mood. In the first pitch session, we find out that Griffin wants security to explain how Adam Simon got on the studio lot. In the second, Griffin let’s us know that he’s concerned about the lax security on the lot. In the third, we see Griffin’s paranoia get confirmed and escalate when he receives a postcard with something written on it, including the word “assassins.” He turns to look over his shoulder and out his window to check if someone is out there watching him. Of course, someone is. We have been out there watching him the whole time. Thus, the pitch scenes work double duty, providing humor while at the same time introducing us to Griffin’s worry and concern about something that we will find out about later.



Rocky
Though the training scene from Rocky is not a long take, the end run up the museum steps was one of the first uses of a steadicam in a released film. The first use came in The Marathon Man, also released in 1976. At the time, most knew nothing about the steadicam. However, the astute viewer notices that once Rocky gets to the top of the steps, the shot curves around and looks down the steps to reveal that there are no tracks or rigs set up along the steps for tracking Rocky’s run up the steps. A cameraman had seamlessly followed Rocky up the steps while running and holding the camera. A new kind of camera was being used that didn’t need to be on a track to follow motion without shaking.


Rocky Museum Steps Scene:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DP3MFBzMH2o&NR=1


The Shining
Another early use of the steadicam came in 1980 in Kubrick’s The Shining. It was used in many scenes but most notably in the scene where the camera follows Danny as he rides his Big Wheel-like toy around the empty hotel. It was the first use of a steadicam in the low mode position where the camera is lower than the counter weight.
This long take follows Danny as he rides his tricycle around the deserted hotel. It gives the impression that Danny is being followed, giving the scene an eerie feel. It also demonstrates the emptiness and isolation of the hotel. Danny rides in circles getting nowhere. We hear the sound of the tires on the hardwood floor intermittently interrupted by the silence of Danny riding over a rug. When Danny goes over the rugs, there’s no one else around to make a sound. He’s alone, except for whatever may be following him.
The scene hints at one of the films main themes—the eternal return. Danny returns to the same spot he starts just as the film suggests that Jack has returned to where he’s been before to do what he’s done before.




Shinning Promo
Much later, a long take was used to create a gimmicky promo for a Kubrick film series shown on television. In the promo, we are given the supposed first-person vantage of Kubrick as he walks onto the set of The Shining to shoot a famous hallway scene. Though probably not the kind of promo Kubrick would have approved of were he alive nor the way that his sets actually looked or operated (or any set for that matter), the long take exemplifies the use of the first-person perspective to give the viewer the feeling that (1) he/she is viewing a world that really exists and (2) he/she is experiencing that world as the main character does.
It’s a cute use of the first-person perspective because the promo ends with “See the world through the eyes of a master. The Stanley Kubrick Season begins July 15th on More 4,” and we have literally been given a view of through the eyes of a fake Stanley Kubrick.
The long take also gives the impression that the set ofThe Shining is a labyrinth of interconnected dressing rooms and sets much like the literal labyrinths—thegarden and the hotel—and the figurative labyrinths—the mind and the past—that play large roles in the film itself. In this way, the long-take promo refers to the overall structures and themes of the film.


[Note: Embedding of the Shining Tracking Promo Disallowed]

Bonfire of the Vanities
In an otherwise mediocre film, the opening shot of De Palma’s Bonfire of the Vanities stands out as one of the most technically savvy shots in film history. It’s too bad the film didn’t follow through on its audacious and auspicious start. Though the shot does a good job of setting the scene and introducing the main character, it strikes us as showing off. We are amazed by the virtuosity of the filmmaking but we are paying more attention to that than the story world. That may have been intentional as the film is about the showy excessive ego-driven 80s, so De Palma may have wanted to reflect that look and feel in an ostentatious opening that turned the spotlight on itself in an act of self-love. In the voice over at the end of the sequence, the main character tells each viewer to “indulge yourself in the extravagance of the moment … .”
Nevertheless, the long take does not have the storytelling complexity of either the opening of Touch of Evil or The Player. It out does both those scenes in orchestration but it lacks their depth and purpose. Its main purpose is to impress. And, aside from a meta-comment on the era and the film itself, it does not provide much else. Indeed, the most pertinent information—that the real hero of the story is not present and that the story concerns a man who wins the world but loses his soul—comes from Peter Fallow’s voiceover.
Furthermore, the most powerful moment in the sequence is literary, not visual, and occurs in the voiceover, when Fallow says, “A phrase from another little best seller: ‘For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his soul? This is a story about such a man.’” But maybe De Palma intended the long take to reflect that phrase through its style at the expense of substance, in its empty self-indulgence.

Bonfire of the Vanities Opening Scene:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=luui7KGzciY



Weekend
Godard’s 7.5-minute long take tracking shot in Weekendis almost unbearable to watch. For 7.5 minutes, we are assaulted by loud honking car horns while we watch a car weave around a traffic jam on a two-lane country road.
The long take is a traditional tracking shot where the camera moves along a track perpendicular to the axis of the camera lens. It’s a completely linear shot that slowly tracks the progress of a convertible moving through a traffic jam. It’s truly excruciating but terribly funny too.
Along the way the convertible we follow passes all kind of oddities: men playing cards on the trunk of a car; a ball being tossed between passengers in two separate cars, kids playing next to an overturned car and then running along the road; another ball being tossed between passengers in two separate cars; a car that has crashed into a tree at an odd angle; teenagers sitting on the side of the road hanging out; a parked Shell gas truck with a car in front of it pointing in the wrong direction and inexplicably sandwiched between the truck and another car pointing in the right direction; another overturned car; a couple having a picnic in the road between two cars in the traffic jam; two men just standing outside their parked car while others behind them try to move forward; two men playing cards on the hood of a car; a man in a boat raising the sail; and a man working on the engine of his car.
Strangest of all, some drivers seem to accept the delay, stop, and occupy themselves otherwise, while others try to push forward by honking their way through the blockage but yet don’t try to circumvent the line, with only the convertible making a serious effort to go around the jam.
As the convertible makes its way, people interrupt its progress to argue with the driver. Eventually, the car comes to the reason for the traffic jam—a deadly accident that has left several people dead. Once past the accident, the car speeds away free of impediment and turns off the main road traveling far into the distance in a long shot.
Godard plays a cruel joke on us in this shot. Immediately, like the characters in the convertible, we are annoyed at the noise and disruption caused by the traffic jam. However, when we get to its cause, we see that we are being petty as people have lost their lives and we have only been delayed a bit and suffered only noisy traffic. But, it’s clear that Godard is not being simply mean to us because along the way he allows us to chuckle at the absurd behavior of some of those stuck in the jam.
Godard also exploits delayed gratification to heighten the contrasts in the scene. We are frustrated by the start and stop movement of the cars and want to know what’s causing the jam, but that information is kept from us for a long time. Eventually, when we see the aftermath of the accident it contrasts strongly with the annoying yet comic scene we have been watching. Moreover, as the convertible drives off far into the distant countryside, the release is stronger and we feel extra relief at being out of the traffic jam and on our way again. Godard has made us sit through a blockage in the film and now the film can finally get back underway.
The scene contains little plot development but is heavy on thematic development. The impact of the shot is delayed until we reflect on the scene. We must think about what Godard intends. We witness a couple out for an idyllic ride in convertible in the country. However, they encounter a traffic jam that impedes their progress and disrupts their idyll. Instead of a quiet ride on the open road, the couple encounters blaring horns and backed up traffic.
As the try to circumvent the blockage, they are continually accosted and yelled at by other travelers. Along their way, they witness nonsensical behaviors—a car pointing headfirst the wrong way into a large truck, a couple picnicking in the road, and man raising the sail on his boat—and, moreover, the wreckage around them seems ignored. Society appears to be unraveling. They reach the cause of their brief delay—a serious car wreck leaving several dead victims splayed on the side of the road—and speed away as if they were leaving such troubles behind them and getting back on track with their weekend trip to the countryside. However, with this long take Godard foreshadows what’s in store for the couple—madness, mayhem, and murder.
In this scene, Godard exposes several questionable characteristics of bourgeois life. First, we experience the annoyance the couple feels when the outside world interferes with their leisure time. Then, we observe the couple act on their sense of privilege as they bypass the traffic jam by breaking the rules and driving down the road the wrong way rather than take their place in line and wait. Next, we see the couple ignore the problems of the world around them as they simply drive past the unfolding calamity around them. Finally, we observe the couple actively escape from the darker realities of life as they drive off without hesitation once they reach the horrific accident. Thus, Goddard critiques the feeling of entitlement, the sense of privilege, the willful ignorance, and the escapism inherent in the bourgeois lifestyle and worldview.




Old Boy
The long take in Old Boy contrasts with that in Weekend. Both are long linear tracking shots and both are difficult to watch. However, they are difficult to watch for very different reasons.
In Weekend, the annoying noise of the horns, the frustrating start and stop of traffic flow, and the long delay until the cause of the jam is revealed make the long take hard to watch, even sit though. In contrast, the long take from Old Boy is hard to watch because of its brutality and the clear pain the fighters feel. The fight is so viciously intense and unremitting that it’s hard to watch but also impossible to turn away from.
When watching Weekend’s long take, we feel our ownpain caused by being subjected to the long take and sitting through it; however, when watching Old Boy’s long take, we feel the pain of the fighters. The long take in Weekend makes you want to get up and walk out of the room, whereas the long take in Old Boy makes you wince and cover your eyes for a moment.
Furthermore, these two long takes exemplify two excellent but very different uses of the long takes to express theme. The long take in Old Boy does not share the thematic complexity of the long take in Weekend. InOld Boy, the long take focuses on a single theme as opposed to the long take in Weekend, which develops several interacting themes. Old Boy’s long take focuses the story to the point of a knife, whereas Weekend’s long take weaves together several ideas underlying the story.
Old Boy’s long take depicts a man pushed to the edge who’s willing to do anything to regain his freedom. In the fight, Dae-su releases his pent up will and rage, as if it were a tightly compressed spring. Remarkably, despite overwhelming odds, Dae-su survives the battle. But, because the fight is portrayed with severe realism, it does not seem ridiculous that he remains standing. The pain, fear, and fatigue of the fighters all strike us as real, as does Dae-su ’s resolve. He’s fighting for everything with nothing to lose, so he fights harder, with more commitment, and without any reluctance. Thus, along with being an amazingly tough and intense fight sequence, the long take compactly expresses Dae-su’s will to live free again.




Hardboiled
The long take in Hardboiled has the look and feel of a first-person shooter video game. It’s also reminiscent of the shootout that takes place in the police station inTerminator. The sequence place us in the middle of the action, and we almost feel like we are holding the shotgun and blasting our way through the hallways. The sequence, however, does not convey the potent of realism of Old Boy but, instead, offers an intense and impressive ride. It’s a tour de force of stunts and pyrotechnical timing.


[Note: Embedding of the Hardboiled Hallway Fight Scene Disallowed]

The Protector

The long take in The Protector is a masterwork of choreography, stunt work, and camerawork. LikeHardboiled’s long take, the sequence has none of the realism of Old Boy. Indeed, it’s even more over the top than the long take in Hardboiled, but it’s more impressive too.

The Protector Stairway Fight Scene:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJJtuTxovQA

[Note: Embedding of The Protector Stairway Fight Scene Disallowed]

Reservoir Dogs


In Reservoir Dogs, Tarantino uses a subtle long take to convey a strong sense of realism as well as provide the viewer a respite from the gruesome torture of a cop. As Mr. Blonde goes to get a can of a gas out of his car to burn the cop he has been torturing, the camera follows him through the warehouse and outside into the street.
When he leaves the warehouse the song in the background fades and we hear only the noises outside. In particular, we hear the laughter of a children, which contrasts with the twisted laughter of Mr. Blonde while he tortured the cop. Outside, the world is oblivious to what’s happening inside the warehouse. Kids play and laugh nearby a scene of sick cruelty.
The realistic transition from indoors to outdoors uses diegetic sound and natural lighting to give the impression that we are watching something really happening, which heightens the horror of what Mr. Blonde is about to try to do.
When Mr. Blonde re-enters the warehouse, we are treated to his perverse dance, his theater of cruelty, while the sounds of laughing children still linger in our minds, mingling with the cop’s muffled cries for mercy.
In this scene, Tarantino employs perfectly seamless cuts and illustrates Wells’ dictum—have a good reason to cut. At first when Mr. Blonde turns to walk out of the warehouse, we see him from the back. As he moves farther away from us, Tarantino cuts to catch us up with Mr. Blonde just at the right moment and then begins the long take. The shot continues as Mr. Blonde re-enters the warehouse with the gas can and doesn’t cut again until Mr. Blonde goes to pour gasoline on the cop. Tarantino then cuts seamlessly to give us a view the gas splashing on the cop’s face.
This combination between seamless cut to long take to seamless cut keep us deeply engrossed in a scene that appears to be transpiring in real-time in real life before our eyes. From the beginning, Tarantino knew what he was doing.
Moreover, once Mr. Blonde starts dousing the cop with gasoline, Tarantino begins deftly cutting between close ups and circular tracking shots. Finally, as Mr. Blonde is about to drop the match, Mr. Orange shoots him and right as the bullets hit Mr. Blonde’s chest, Tarantino cuts to another circular tracking shot that focuses on Mr. Orange and eventually circles around to show Mr. Blonde fall down in the distance dead against the warehouse door. It’s those kinds of choices that set Tarantino apart from the start.

Reservoir Dogs Tracking Shot:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPa93P4UXzc

[Note: Embedding of the Reservoir Dogs Tracking Shot Disallowed]

Pulp Fiction
In Pulp Fiction, Tarantino uses a long take to follow Vincent Vega as he walks around Slim Jim’s. The camera follows Vincent and pays particular attention to what he looks at. The technique allows Tarantino to give us the sense that we are walking through the restaurant and looking around wide-eyed investigating the scene like Vincent. For instance, following Vincent’s lead, the camera looks down at a toy racetrack and peers over at a Jane Mansfield impersonator, and then follows Vincent past a Buddy Holly impersonator playing on stage and a Marilyn Monroe impersonator that walks by him.
No significant plot development occurs during the shot. The long take simply sets the scene using a wandering eye. Though Vincent would normally play it cool and wouldn’t roam around room and certainly wouldn’t walk past his “date,” we know Vincent is high on heroin, which gives context to his curiosity and the camera’s movements.


[Note: Embedding of the Pulp Fiction Tracking Shot Disallowed]


Kill Bill Vol. 1
In this long take, Tarantino tackles much more complicated movement than in Reservoir Dogs or Pulp Fiction. Essentially, the scene consists of two people walking to the bathroom one after the other. However, because of the use of a long take employing intricate tracking shots, the simple action gets enlivened with energy.
Interestingly, though from Reservoir Dogs to Pulp Fiction to Kill Bill Vol. 1 Tarantino’s long takes became move complicated, the long take in Reservoir Dogs still stands out as the more masterful shot because it conveys a hard-to-capture subtle sense of realism that made the scene even more terrifying, and the long takes in Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill Vol. 1 just made the films more interesting to watch. The long take in Reservoir Dogshad a tactile feel and emotional impact absent from the long takes in Pulp Fiction and Kill Bill Vol. 1.

Kill Bill Vol. 1 Tracking Shot:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFCb-iYTSg0



Goodfellas
Scorsese’s famous long take illustrates the emotive potential of a long take done well. It gives us not only the perspective of Lorraine as she enters the club with Henry but it causes us to share her experience. Notably, this long take, though complicated, is not ostentatious like the long take in Bonfire of the Vanities. It’s not excessive, although, as mentioned above, its intricacy and virtuosity draw attention to itself, setting it up for a famous parody in Swingers.
Still, the long take uses each point of progression to drive home the point of the scene, which is that Lorraine is being swept off her feet at the same time she understands that Henry is not a legitimate businessman. This scene sets up her tragedy as she gets allured and warned at the same time. She knows what she’s getting into but goes along anyway as the lifestyle is too attractive for her. It’s a true tragedy, because afforded the opportunity of an informed choice, she chooses unwisely.
Everything in the long take plays ironically in the end. All the money and gifting giving gives the impression of generosity and thankfulness but really just indicates economic and social power obtained illegally through force and intimidation. Henry pretends to hand the money out stealthily but he knows Lorraine notices. Henry plays down paying a man to watch his car, paying their way in through the back door to skip the line, and getting a choice table immediately upon arrival inside the club; however, it’s all to impress her, even his acting like it’s no big deal and his fake embarrassment.




Boogie Nights
In Boogie Nights, Paul Thomas Anderson uses three excellent long takes for three very different purposes. In the film’s opening scene, Anderson uses a long take to set the vibe and feel of the film while introducing all the main characters. Later, in the middle of the film, Anderson uses another long take to establish the end of an era with a bang, when he follows Little Bill into a house looking of his wife, back out to his car to get his gun, and then back into the house to shoot his wife and the guy she’s screwing. (Shortly thereafter, he shoots himself but that’s after the long take has ended.)
In the Little Bill long take, Anderson puts us in the mindset of Little Bill by having us follow him closely into the house looking for his wife, then out the car to get his gun, and then into the house to shoot her and her unfortunate partner of the moment. We are not given his perspective, as we do not see what he sees. We don’t see his wife having sex and we don’t see her get shot. Rather, we ride along with Little Bill and occupy his emotional space.
Note the similarity between the Little Bill’s long take and the long take in Reservoir Dogs. Both long takes use going outside to convey a sense of reality that heightens the impact of the violence in the scene because it makes the violence seem like it’s happening as part of the flow of real life. Reservoir Dogs accomplishes this with greater effect because it uses only diegetic sound. InBoogie Nights, the soundtrack continues to play both inside and outside and muffles the effect but does not erase it.
Finally, Anderson uses a third long take in the penultimate scene of the film where he follows Jack around his house before he’s about to shoot a scene. This long take contrasts with the open long take, which set up a cool, fun party scene. In this shot, Anderson creates a sense of a family rather than a party scene as Jack walks around admonishing Rollergirl to clean her room, comforting and complimenting his wife Amber, and checking in on Buck’s new born being held by Reed in the pool . The long take provides closure and summation while conveying a sense unity, alluding to new beginnings, and recognizing irrevocable losses. (Unfortunately, I could not find a video of this long take online.)
Anderson follows Wells and does not cut until he needs to do so. In the opening shot, he doesn’t cut until we need to see Jack setting his eyes on Dirk, so that we know that Jack has come to the club for the purpose of seeing Dirk. He’s there for business, not for the party. For Little Bill’s long take, Anderson does not cut until we need to see the reaction of the partygoers to the gunshots. In the final long take, Anderson does not cut until he needs to show us Dirk in his dressing room behind closed doors.
Two additional points of interest:
(1) During the pool party, Anderson uses a shot that follows a women into the pool and underwater. Most likely, this shot was an homage to an identical shot in I Am Cuba occurring during its pool party long take discussed and shown below.
(2) While making Boogie Nights, Anderson shot Michael Penn’s Try music video in one long take in the longest hallway in the world in a building in downtown Los Angeles. Michael Penn scored Boogie Nights and played a music engineer in the film. Anderson said that he would like to make a film in that a hallway about what goes on in all the rooms attached to it.
Boogie Nights Opening Scene:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SDyb4PiJ64
Boogie Nights Little Bill Gets His Gun:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znwh41szei4
Long Take Music Video Try:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hox7UOaQffI






Children of Men
In this long take, we are placed in the car with the characters as they are ambushed. Technically amazing, the long take almost defies understanding. The camera moves within the cab of the car making us feel like we are in the car with the characters. The camera neither creates nor follows movement but instead gives alternate views within and from the car.
The scene begins with a playful interaction between Theo and Julian, where they tease each other about their past relationship and trade off spitting a ping-pong ball into each other’s mouths. If the ping-pong ball trick was accomplished without special effects, it was a risky move because it could easily have failed and the scene would have to be shot all over. The moment of playfulness causes us to drop our guard, so the ambush that follows startles and scares us even more. Being in the car, we feel like we too are being attacked. It’s a great immersive effect.
Shockingly, Julia, a main character played by a big star—Julianne Moore—gets shot and killed by assassins riding a motorcycle. While Theo tries to help her, the assassins ride up next to his door in an attempt to kill him. However, he slams his door into the motorcycle causing it to crash into the hood of the car.
The interaction with motorcycles appears to make the long take even more impressive, but the motorcycle was added in post-production. Even though it’s hard to tell, the use of special effects diminishes the impressiveness of the action portion of the long take.
Nonetheless, the camera work inside the car throughout the scene stands out. To make the shot, a rig was built atop the car so that the camera could be controlled remotely to move around the car. As it moved throughout the scene, the actors had move out of its way and then return to their proper positions when it eventually turned on them again. The second video below provides an explanation of how the shot was pulled off.
Children of Men Ambush Long Take:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=en16i8BY4hI
Making of Children of Men Ambush Long Take:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjNk-nxHjfM&feature=related





Elephant
Much of Elephant was shot in long takes. This particular long take starts with a still medium shot that watches some high school students play football, changes to a steadicam tracking shot that follows one of the players, Nathan, as he walks toward the school building, and finally settles into a still long shot that watches him enter the building. The scene cuts just as Nathan enters the building and then another long take steadicam shot begins that follows the young boy through the school’s halls and around the campus until he meets up with his girlfriend.
The entire sequence follows Wells’ “reason to cut” dictum, not cutting until Nathan enters the school building because transitioning from outside to inside necessitates a cut from the long shot to keep following Nathan inside the school.
The long take is slow, fluid, and mournful, especially given the soundtrack—Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. We are watching what we know will soon be destroyed. The entire film can be seen as eulogy to youth.
The portion of the film that occurs before the shootings consists mainly of long takes of concurrent overlapping sequences that are shown consecutively. We watch John, Elias, Michelle, and Nathan traverse the school and cross paths the morning of the shootings until they each interact with Alex and Eric, the shooters.
The second video below edits Elephant into a Timecode-like format to show some of the main actions concurrently in real time.
Elephant Football Scene:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3c-plmGkeUc&feature=PlayList&p=61CF612CBEB8D89A&playnext_from=PL&playnext=1&index=19





The Mirror
Sophisticated and powerful, this long take from Tarkovsky’s The Mirror demonstrates his undeniable genius. Beautifully framed, the scene first shows a fire indirectly through a mirror and framed by a doorway. Then, the camera tracks to frame the fire directly from a porch, as rain drips from the roof contrasting with the blaze. As usually for Tarkovsky, the scene is filled with symbols—dogs baking (animal life); the ticking clock (time); the falling bottle (entropy); the mirror (light); rain, fire, and greenery (the elements); and children and their parents (family). Watch and behold.





I Am Cuba
These final two long takes are remarkably beautiful in different ways. They illustrate the contrasting ability of the long take, on the one hand, to immerse the viewer in a lively scene and, on the other hand, to carry the viewer away into the sublime. Unfortunately, the clips don’t use the original soundtracks. Nevertheless, the power of these long takes remains apparent. They speak for themselves and need no further elaboration to be enjoyed.



I Am Cuba Funeral Procession:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9eOCajj3fY4



POSTED BY SCOTT JOHNSON AT 5:56 AM 
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