Friday, December 14, 2012

Subconscious Film - Criterion Collection - Eclipse Series 24 - Dying At Grace (2003)

These essays are specifically for reading after ones personal viewing.

What strikes me first is the religion. As the head nurse makes her rounds, the undertone of her questions are a rhetorical utterance of how they should know God is with them. And that this – their pain and suffering – is "part of a bigger picture." None of them seem to believe her, which made me wonder, do you enter the hospital knowingly of this preaching? It’s called Grace Hospital, but nobody except one, who seems to be in a vegetable-like consciousness, is wanting or acceptingly a part of these religious feedings. This made me feel uncomfortable in her presence, and also juxtaposed my preconceived notions of how I thought the human mind worked close to death; instead of reaching out to God in their last hours, calling his name for the fear of the unknown, they threw Him away. But I'm able to understand – as most of their lives have been filled with pain, cancer not being the first spell – at times it seems or perhaps it is, that God has left, or was never there.

Having watched most of Allan King's Actuality Dramas, it helps to be an experienced viewer of vérité, to be able to break-into this new sense of viewing. Having the ability to openly interpret his films, one can then experience these new emotions, undistributed disturbed by a period of confused watching. 

There's a whole tone and voice any director/writer is trying to communicate with you. They're trying to immerse you in this new sense of feeling. Just like a novel. And like novels, we watch films one after another, experiencing different emotions and themes, which are personal to each creator. Sometimes (most of the time) when I read a new book, it takes time for me to escape the tone and voice of the last book I read, and pull myself into this new world, so fluidity may compliment my reading as I understand this new writer's sense of tone and voice. For films, I feel we plague our first viewings either by the last films we watched, or mostly by our own sense of personality, instead of watching with an open eye for the filmmaker's voice. Not that the films we love can't also be important to us personally, but that's not the only reason to love or enjoy a film. Now, it also depends on the filmmaker to have the ability to immerse his/her viewer's in his voice, but, I truly think a film should be a combined effort of both filmmaker and viewer. So even when you don't love a film, after viewing it with an openness of both the makers voice and personal undertones, you may be able to respect and enjoy the film for the vision and talent if it is genuine.

During my viewing, I developed a new filmic sense of emotion: I wanted to throw up from my sadness. I know it sounds terrible, and it was, but when dealing with death, I don't believe it could be any other way. I was then met with an odd aftertaste. When it was done and over, I felt....fine. I was able to lay down and sleep without the worry and anxiety which usually takes over my scattered mind before sleep. It was a sense of peace. Did King somehow instill in me a small sense of hope or acceptance within the walls of the Grace Hospital. That is the true gift of an artist: To instill a new sense of emotion and in turn, feel the relation of man through art. It is wholly inspiring to experience, and I hope to someday be on the side of its creation.

The Seafairy

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Santa with Muscles

By: Henry Melville

The Not-So Abby Normal Brain and Santa With Muscles

    If a repetitious groundhog day allows time for cultivation of a plethora of existential and neighboring philosophies, then Hulk Hogan believing he’s Santa Clause undoubtedly narrows down the spectrum. “Absurdity of conventions” is a phrase that can extend beyond philosophical thinking and describe a film itself. A questionable man goes through an ordeal where he discovers the error of his ways and gains redemption in the end. Why does the formula continue to be used and capture the imagination of children and adults alike?

    The answer extends deeper beyond the acting ability behind Hogan’s facial hair. Existentialism follows the method of thinking that “we and things in general exist, but that these things have no meaning (essence) for us except as we through acting upon them can create meaning." Hogan’s character, a self-involved millionaire, lives life according to a lengthy list of rules he’s designed for himself. It is the very convention of these rules that lands Hogan on his head and into an amnesia-driven journey through an orphanage believing he’s Santa Clause. Standard kid’s movie antics ensue and Hogan winds up remembering the millionaire he is and returning to his mansion, now dejected. A theistic existentialist believes that “recognizing and experiencing absurdity leads to possibility of various kinds of redemption." It is not the absurdity of becoming Santa (with muscles) that allows Hogan his redemption, but the absurdity of the rituals in his ordinary life. The meaning that Hogan creates for himself is within the fabric walls of the Santa suit, helping the orphans he has come across.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Subconscious Film - Criterion Collection - Autumn Sonata (1978)

These essays are specifically for reading after ones personal viewing.

Maybe it's odd I find it positively intriguing, but through the longing monologues and the subtle hard cuts into past experiences, I look at their teeth. They are as they should be. Away from the judgment of an insecure American society, which I was brought up in and live with today. They gleam with the natural tinge of age and proper preservation. They are human and are not afraid of the faults they show. Can a natural process be a fault? No, but I guess that's how we've come to recognize it, as an unhygienic disfigurement if it is not treated by perfection.

I make some social commentary about the differences of society as if they live a purer life, but this is also not true. The same amount of problems occur, but in a different way I am only just able to peek and begin to relate through the cultural differences as I continue my viewing. I can barely make out the dogma that surrounds it and only because I read the essay in my Criterion copy; which was read only before I started this paragraph. It's like reading a book you know is foreign and can feel the language barrier flowing past the top of your head. If only you could read it in its native tongue and feel the cultural microcosms.

But I can feel the beats and am moved by the emotion. Met also by a nice direction; crisp and wistful, into the light of Autumn.

The Seafairy

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Scattered Words of Film

Words by: Henry Melville 
Compiled by: The Seafairy

Chronologically, in an unimportant chronological order

FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT (1940): What glorious sets! What beautiful camera movement! What elegant use of the close-up! What humor! The genius of his work is that he uses the very humor and thrills he is known for to undermine (and, in an odd way, accentuate) the themes. And oh boy does he tackle themes in this one. They may not all be entirely fleshed out as fully as in others, but here's a small sample of themes I noticed in order from most explored, to less: Identity, loss of innocence, solitude, alienation (sort of, it's not the word I'm looking for, but I can't seem to find the right one), doubling (A Hitchcockian staple). Not to mention the ubiquitous bird motifs. Clocking in at two hours, this of Hitchcock's filmography is constantly in motion and perfectly paced. A rather under-recognized of Hitchcock. Should be put right up there with THE 39 STEPS.


I apologetically love BATMAN FOREVER. Tommy Lee Jones and Jim Carrey are great. Val Kilmer is Val Kilmer. Nicole Kidman is pretty/ pretty adorable. The over-the-top style and art direction is only matched by the genuinely funny script and dialogue. This is the Batman movie I could watch over and over and would be my favorite if BATMAN RETURNS wasn't so freaking perfect.


In response to Criterion November 2012 new releases:

RASHOMON is pretty huge for Criterion, it's like getting a new Chaplin for Kurosawa fans.

Trilogy of Life - Just what we needed. More films from the guy that did SALO...

WEEKEND - YES, they've teased me with being able to buy the poster, 
now I can freakin' get a copy. Geez. Love.

HEAVEN'S GATE - 216 minutes long. Worth it? An anti-western western? Sounds great.

End of response.


KOLCHAK: THE NIGHT STALKER is like the 70s version of Supernatural mixed with some good 'ol Don Knotts' THE GHOST AND MR. CHICKEN with a healthy dose of noir. Starring Darren McGavin, you can't go wrong.


I want to go back in time to 2005 when relatively no one was excited for a new Batman movie.


Normally when watching THE ROYAL TENENBAUMS, I connect with the Richie, Margot (and, more or less, Eli) storyline. Personally, the Chas/Royal relationship seem to fall into the cracks with my focus on the (arguably) more main characters. Stiller always seemed more over-the-top than his character's siblings so I felt this odd personal and emotional disconnect, but his portrayal of the character dealing with death (in light of recent events) really struck me.
"I've had a rough year, Dad." Nothing immediately comes to mind that so encapsulates a single, emotional, profound moment in a character's life that's played so subtly and without intense focus. It's almost a throw away line that isn't lingered on, yet the lingering feeling it causes is immense.
Oh Wes, we love you!


Hitchcock's SABOTAGE (1936) is incredibly, shockingly, disturbingly grim. As far as I'm concerned, this employs Hitchcock's greatest use of close-ups and camera movement (not to mention special effects) in his British films. He's famous for mixing humor with suspense, but when he utilizes humor first then all-out horrific suspense, it is heightened ten times over. Then you realize the movie is just entering the third act.
Side note: I take for granted watching 30s Hitchcock via Criterion transfers. The DVD I received...well, I suppose it wasn't the worst visual transfer I've ever seen, but the audio is horrendous. Muffled mumbles on top of poorly balanced score/dialogue tracks made the film a chore to follow (totally worth it, but it shouldn't have been so impossible).


Hitchcock's SECRET AGENT (1936) is unrelentingly grim. Still experimenting with sound elements, some sequences stand out against the others (such as the church scene and the first murder scene [one of the finer in Hitchcock's early British films]). The character of Elsa Carrington is an amazing Hitchcock female dealing with her innocence and fetishization of sex and death in relation to each other.
Her character flips when the innocence is lost in a superbly subtle, yet oddly obvious character development. While SECRET AGENT may not be the best early Hitchcock, or the easiest to swallow and get through (correlation: THE WRONG MAN), it is essential to the development of Hitchcock's style and an introduction to themes he would be exploring for the rest of his fifty year career.


Alfred Hitchcock's MURDER! (1930) is like watching a artist first come into his craft. Experimenting with audio (the first film to have a person's thoughts in the soundtrack of a film) and economizing every camera movement and edit. While the story is a slow-burn and drags at bits (if not paying attention to the brilliant camerawork), it's a great example of how Hitchcock deals with (and later deals with a lot more) this idea of "real vs. appearance" in regards to the actions on screen and how the film exists in reality. You don't need to take film classes when you can just watch Hitchcock all day/ everyday to possibly learn more than any professor can ever teach you.


THE LADY EVE. Every aspect of this movie is ridiculous except the chemistry between Stanwyck (pre-feminist movement awesomeness found in this role) and (a very young) Fonda, making it somehow all meld together into a highly re-watchable, fun; funny film.


Maybe it's because of the mood I'm in, the time of night, or possibly just the haunting score and shot, but the ending of Solaris has creeped me out to the very core. Chills don't even begin...


After watching Hitchcock's THE LADY VANISHES, I remembered something about movies that needs to be recognized more often: Stop taking your craft so seriously when it doesn't have to be. Hitchcock's work is cinematic genius, everyone agrees, and his movies always have a tinge of humor and a certain sprezzatura about them. THE LADY VANISHES is one of the most fun psychological thrillers while still maintaining the suspense and mystery of any other thriller. So, Chris Nolan, there's no need to make a, and I emphasize strongly on the absurdity of the word, BATMAN movie that isn't fun. You're not directing THE GODFATHER (which also has this element of fun that's serious), it's BATMAN.


Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Scattered Images of Film

Images By: Henry Melville


Sunday, August 19, 2012

In Defense: MAGIC MIKE

By: Henry Melville 

*There are definite spoilers in this, so, don't read it if you haven't seen the movie. Also, all quotes are paraphrased; they are far from perfect.

Sex, Drugs & Stripping

Superficial, adj1. Shallow; not profound or thorough.  
2. insubstantial or insignificant.  
3. of or pertaining to the surface.

One of my coworkers, Breanna, who saw Magic Mike called it "superficial" and said she didn't like it because it was "just sex and drugs." My ears echoed with the word "just." If I had only seen the trailers for Magic Mike, I'd be inclined to agree with her, but I saw the movie because I wanted to know how Steven Soderbergh fit into it all. After seeing it (and how incredulously well directed, acted, edited, shot, etc. it was), I decided it was the best movie I've seen this year. Some would say that's more shocking than a girl not enjoying hot man-ass and muscles.

To be sure I wasn't about to make a jerk out of myself by writing this, I asked Breanna to clarify if she thought it was a bad movie, or if she just didn't like it. Her answer is made clear in the fact that I am actually writing this.

I'm not exactly sure were to start though. The only reason she gave me was the one about superficiality, so I guess I can prove that she's dead wrong in that regard. It's not an opinion. Superficial is simply what defines all the people who saw the movie for Channing Tatum's looks and male stripping. And like I've said before, Magic Mike trailers tricked 30 year old desperate housewives into watching a movie with actual content, not just sex and hunks.

"Just sex and drugs" means that all sense of character is irrelevant to the story or only serves as a means to get to the sex and drugs. So there must be no character development in Magic Mike, right? Wrong again, Breanna. Look at the titular character Magic Mike. Other than being acted with an extreme nuance that is unexpected from the guy who starred inThe Vow, the character development is dealt with an equal subtlety that initially caught me off guard. The first time we see Mike, he's getting out of bed after a night with two girls, Joanna and...Penelope!(?). Our first reaction to the character is that he's "a player" and, in a way, immature. Mike gives his "stripper wisdom," to Adam's sister and why Adam would choose to stay a male stripper: "He's 19. There's money, girls and a good time." Joanna serves as Mike's "good time" while he puts on this facade of being beyond that stage in his life. The reason Mike can't get his furniture business of the ground or quit his stripper job is because he actually doesn't want to. Adam "The Kid" shows Mike in three months how he's been acting since he started stripping. The immaturity, the stupidity, the bad decisions, all of it. The last we see of Joanna, she is right on the doorstep of becoming a psychiatrist and she's engaged. Mike is exactly in the same position as he was.

His realization of this occurs after losing his money to Tobias' "friends," almost getting Adam killed and confronting Brooke about it all. Tatum stutters his way through that scene brilliantly. I don't think I've seen a better example of a character figuring himself out out-loud before. "I'm not my lifestyle...It is what I do but, it's not who I am." When Brooke retorts, "The question isn't whether I believe it, but do you?" She isn't talking about his financial plans to go to Miami to get the funds to kickstart his furniture business, she's questioning him about his lifestyle. After all, it was only the night before that he and Adam "got fucked up." So, I suppose, it's just insignificant that Mike puts an end to his stripping and doesn't go to Miami? That's just sex and drugs, yeah?

And Matthew McConaughey's caricature (reminiscent of Frank TJ Mackey in Magnolia) of a prideful, self-idolizing, washed up stripper is just sex. The detail to the character's surroundings is worth mentioning. The self-portraits and sculpting, the constant use of chalices instead of regular cups, the showing off of rich furniture and clothing, his only strip-tease in the movie sums up the character. The way he begs and absorbs the attention ("You have to believe you are inside every last one of them.") "You are their liberation." Dallas does believe this.  "You thinking about biting the hand that feeds ya?" But it's not enough that he's just prideful, he also represents, in a perverted way, a father figure to these strippers. He's their employer, but he works out with them, he gives them opportunity, he watches out for them (when they don't get in the way of watching out for himself). His excitement about Miami isn't just for himself. "Tarzan, step out of the dark and into the light." Why give such depth to a character if he's just there to look good and hire more guy-candy?

I could go in-depth about each character and how they absolutely don't fit into this view of the movie as "superficial," but I've already spent enough time explaining just one lead and one supporting character. I will (try to) briefly show the craft with which the movie was constructed to prove it's more than "sex and drugs" and how it doesn't fit the definition of "not thorough." (I'm currently writing a piece for a blog about the rave scene in Magic Mike, so that scene will be discussed ad naseum later). Sometimes metaphors are so blatantly obvious that they are inexplicably missed. Take for example that spectacular shot where Adam gets an insinuated blowjob from the birthday girl and Mike makes out with her friend. The shot isn't as simple as it appears. The shot's a (seemingly) single tilting shot starting from above Adam's head, traveling past the girl on her knees, past their shoes on the floor, to a red, snake-like counter design to an upside shot of Mike making out. Like I said, the symbolism can easily be as obvious as this: introducing Adam into this decadent world of male stripping ("Welcome to the crazy club")...wait for it...turns Mike's world on its head. But no, never mind, this movie is just sex and drugs, there's no symbolism that relates to character development.

On a particularly lonely night for Mike, he's sitting alone in his living room (shown by a great use of an unfocused-to-focused shot of Mike slowly falling back into his couch) listening to the waves outside his house. In his loneliness, he calls Joanna. We see him scroll this his numerous contacts (some with last names, some just first, distinguishing closer friends with acquaintances and other, less intimate contacts) we hear the waves crashing. He lands on Joanna's name and presses send. Cut to Joanna laying on top of Mike (shot vertically instead of horizontally symbolizing how Joanna's presence has Mike pushed up against a metaphoric wall) as the sounds of the waves are continuous. Why didn't the sounds of the waves cut? Do they serve as this underlying, constant in Mike's life? ("The dream is to wake up on the beach and make things.") These questions shouldn't exist in a movie lacking profundity or significance.

If this movie was "just sex and drugs," just "superficial," then I would not have been able to write nearly as much (and I can write a considerable amount more) as I have and will (see: Rave scene analysis for The Seafarers blog). Movies like Project X or Hot Tub Time Machineare "just sex and drugs", superficial. Intent plays a large role in it all. The fact that Magic Mike showed the male stripping industry in a nonjudgmental but honest way already puts the film light years above movies that glorify sex and drugs. Then again, what do I know. I guess Magic Mike is "just" about hot dudes and their hot dongs. ("Ladies, for the last time, give it up for the cock rocking kings of Tampa!")

Thorough, adj.  1. Extremely attentive to accuracy and detail,  
2. Executed without negligence or omissions.
3. Having full command or mastery of an art, talent.

Genuine , adj. 1. Free from pretense, affectation, or hypocrisy.

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Subconscious Literature into Film Essay - Experimental Edition - The Tree Of Life (2011) & Frankenstein (1818?) (1823)

        One way to properly analyze Terrence Malick’s The Tree of Life, would be to compare the ideologies and philosophies with G.W. Leibniz’s Principles of Nature and Grace. But, more relatable then Malick’s philosophy in Tree of Life – which can be found as the main theme and structure for all his films – is the building psychology that overcome large amounts of the picture, and compliments this philosophy. I’ve discovered I can most accurately portray this psychology through Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.

     Relevant Tangent: When I learned to criticize film, for structure and technique and all the things I've come to love, it makes the process become more involved, in which, there is constant thinking; but, sometimes this process is lost. I’ll be watching the screen and sent into a trance. It’s warm and I can’t move and I don't want to. It’s like I’m sleeping comfortably with my eyes open but retaining the information on screen, and I’ve been sucked into a fairy tale. All films are fairy tales: the dramas, the comedies, the horrors, the fantasies, the sci-fi’s, the romances and everything more and in between. Maybe a water glass will clink or a friend will cough and pull me from this hypnosis, then I can think about what I’m watching for a little, until I’m filled again with this euphoria.

     Back from tangent: This is what happened during Tree of Life. I felt like some relation I had to the film was so strong but I couldn’t find it. I understand great films serve the purpose of timelessness, but why is it timeless to me? After a series of rumination, and a second viewing, I found at least one purpose for my love: The characterization of abstract psychology portrayed through Young Jack, played by Hunter McCracken. And I've felt this strange relation once before. 

     If you've read Frankenstein, you'll remember there’s a large portion of the novel (chapters 11 - 16) that deals with a similar psychology of Young Jack, but instead with Frankenstein's monster. We see both these characters from their birth and follow them through the senses they experience, the emotions that change them, and the knowledge they acquire.

     I’d always explain to people, one of the reasons for my love of Frankenstein was because of Mary Shelley’s detailed articulation of what we might've experienced as new borns and children, and, if we'd been able to express it from memory. Never had I before or after read something so revelatory of this process, and in a language so philosophical and poetic. The beginnings of the creatures most basic developments are explained mostly in the beginning of chapter 11: 

        “A strange multiplicity of sensations seized me, and I saw, felt, heard, and smelt, at the same time: and it was, indeed, a long time before I learned to distinguish between the operation of my various senses."

     "By degrees, I remember, a stronger light pressed upon my nerves, so that I was obliged to shut my eyes. Darkness then came over me, and troubled me; but hardly had I felt this, when, by opening my eyes, as I now suppose, the light poured in upon me again."

     "I walked, and, I believe, descended; but I presently found a great alteration in my sensations."

     "Before, dark and opaque bodies had surrounded me, impervious to my touch or sight: but I now found that I could wander on at liberty, with no obstacles which I could not either surmount or avoid. The light became more and more oppressive to me: and, the heat wearying me as I walked, I sought a place where I cold receive shade.”

     “I started up, and beheld a radiant form rise from among the trees.”

     “No distinct ideas occupied my mind: all was confused” 

     I can almost remember my birth. 

     I compare these screen shots, not because they’re directly related to Frankenstein, but because it’s interesting to compare imagery to text, especially when they’re so closely related. How else do we memorize and remember. It’s important to instill imagery on passages to better understand the passage, and helps to retain this information. I also do this because the second time I read Frankenstein, I couldn’t help but think of the vast images from Tree of Life, and thought it would be fun to pair them together. 

     After a month or so, I realized when I'd explain my love for Tree of Life, I'd compare it to my love of the growing psychology in Frankenstein, as compared to Young Jack. There are other elements and themes of each medium that I could process and analyze for days, but for me, these are the most relatable and how I am able to best explain my interest in both.

     But where Frankenstein leaves this progression of human psychological development, TOL takes over. There are, of course, moments in the next few chapters that deal with similar events of the development of abstraction of thought, but most of the psychology (and many other themes important to the novels narrative) comes from a family the monster encounters and deals more with the development of his relation to them. That’s why I say TOL, “takes over” in this psychology; more generally for us to relate to personally. But I will still be using quotes from time to time in the screen shots I present.

     According to psychologists, such as -- and starting with -- Carl Hung, to Jean Piaget's more well known abstract theory, abstract thinking in Cognitive Development of the Formal operational stage (the final stage in Piaget’s theory of cognitive development), starts to occur within the ages of 11 and 12 and continues into adulthood. This is the age in which we follow most of Young Jack’s childhood. Malick shows us this development, through Jack’s relation to his parents, God, his brothers and himself, while also incorporating narration of Jack’s thoughts. 

     The first time we encounter his evolving thoughts, he sees men being pulled into police cars, in handcuffs and chains. 

"Can it happen to anyone?"

"Nobody talks about it."

The film then cuts to Jack, in bed, praying to God. 

"Help me not to sass my dad. Help me not to get in fights."

     Whenever we return to the convicts, it's from the perspective of Jack - camera low to the ground, looking up, like a child. It's important to remember that because everything we see is through Jack, we must interpret imagery as a pre-teen. Are the lines of narration also apart of the prayer? Is it a tangent thought while he was praying, or a separate thought entirely at a different time? Are these visualizations important to his prayer and what he's praying for? Maybe Jack is praying because he feels he could end up like those men, and wishes not to. These lines and imagery, are our first steps into the growing abstractions of Jack's maturity. 

     The second abstraction of thought deals with jealousy. No narration, only expression as Jack watches his younger brother (middle brother: R.L, played by Tye Shariddon) bond with his father (Mr. O'Brien, played by Brad Pitt) through his musical ability. A trait in which, Jack, does not share. 

"The Mysteries Barriers"

 We come to a small moment of death. 

"Being thus provided, I resolved to reside in this hovel..."

     From jealousy, we then develop into guilt and regret. Jack: breaks into a neighbors home while they're gone, steals a dress of the young women who lives there, and runs away with it, eventually taking it to the river and throwing the dress into it. Letting it float on with the current to be lost. 

     Now, it's a bit hard to catch onto from the first viewing (because of the subtle editing). We see the apology to his mother before this sequence happens, and at first I thought the guilt and regret was related to earlier scenes in which Jack attaches a frog to a firecracker rocket and lights it into the sky. But, if you go through it closely, you can see the clothes he's wearing when apologizing to his mother (Mrs. O'Brien played by Jessica Chastain) are different from the frog sequence, but the same as the stealing sequence. But you'll also notice that Mrs O'Briens clothes are different in both sequences. Still, among this confusion, my heart goes out to the poor frog....

The frog sequence - 

Jack's thought narration - "Liar."

Kitchen sequence - 

Mrs. O'Brien - "Never do it again...promise?

*Jack nods his head, yes*

Jack - "You gonna tell, dad?"

*she walks away without answering*

And the dress sequence - 

Jack - "I can't talk to you."

Jack - "Don't look at me."

     Does Jack later tell his mother about this, and that's when she's talking to him in the kitchen? Or was it about the frog? I think it's the first but if it's the ladder, that could just be a continuity problem (or she could've just changed her clothes), but both would still be a factor of abstraction dealing with those same emotions of guilt; but, also a growing sense of adrenaline, hormones and experiencing a new taste of sub-emotions. I think the kitchen sequence might encompass both Jack's experiences and is relatable to both situations because they deal with those emotions discussed before.

     Hunter McCracken - along with the other brothers (Tye Sheridan and Laramie Eppler) - does some of the best child acting I've seen since Paper Moon (excluding foreign film child actors, because c'mon, they're just better). Without the skills McCracken possesses, and the natural surreality Malick directs with, it would be impossible to translate this psychology, that's, so completely relatable. This is what it was like to be an 11 year old boy: I've done it before and I can feel it here; all the emotion and every thought Jack has spoken with his voice or his facial expressions and actions.

     The following deals with Trust and Power, but it's the "why", that becomes confusing. In this sequences, Jack pressures his brother into touching the lamp socket with a metal rod. 

Jack - "C'mon. Touch it."

R.L. - "See, I trust you"

     Jack has gained a new sense of power, that is, through R.L's trust in him. He, later, takes advantage of this trust.

Below is another example of his jealousy that enrages his power of trust. 

Below, I thought I'd throw in some Freudian psychology for fun.

     I don't want to bore you, nor do I want to show you the whole film, but I must express my love in one last form of emotion: hatred and anger. I think Jack still has love for his father, and in his developing psyche is consumed by the jealousy, which turns into hatred for his father. Not to say his father's doing nothing wrong - he's a strict, regretful man who doesn't know how to show his love, and was probably treated the same by his father - but both of these are contributing factores for the following. In this sequence, we hear nothing but a deep drumming noise and the diegetic sounds within. I believe this drum noise comes from a different register of Francesco Lupica's Cosmic Beam instrument (a noise which I believe was omitted in some of the DVD versions). We see Jack circle around his father; wondering, ruminating, plotting. If only he could kill his father. What would happen? Would anyone see? 

Narration - "Please God, kill him."

     And after this, a strange sense of jealousy, which is presented to tie more fluidly into his power over R.L.

"Let him die."

"She only loves me!"

We then return to R.L's trust as Jack coaxes him to put his finger on a BB-gun. 

"Put your finger over it."

"Like that."

Shame and regret, like his father.