In his on-point, Reverse Shot review, Matt Connolly observes that, “Porous to begin with, these dichotomous views of nature flow into one another throughout Meek’s Cutoff [2008]. The landscape is desperate emotion, and it is brutal fact.” Out of the three films by Kelly Reichardt, Meek’s Cutoff seems to be the one with the most representative depiction of her visual style and what I would describe as a “cinema of emotional realism”. This is hinted at in Old Joy (2004) and Wendy and Lucy (2006), but it is most present in this film. A. O. Scott also refers to this aspect in his review by saying that, “The three films form a loose trilogy in which the durable mythology of the West…comes up against some flinty realities…But tucked inside these carefully told, almost anecdotal narratives are intense emotions, intractable social problems and human truths that are too deep, too sad and perhaps too painfully absurd to name.”
Reichardt’s recognizable long-takes and careful construction of time evolve into more than a style in this film. They become a way of transporting us into her “mythology of the West.” It is in Meek’s Cutoff that the theme reaches its highest potency and is foregrounded—not only through the characters’ self-containment and their out-sidedness and search of a new life, but also by the divisions within their own group, their lack of choice or control in their geographical isolation, and the claustrophobic feeling—reflected in the birds cages and compressed square frame.
Through her cinematographic style, Reichardt doesn’t give the story of being part of the marginalized society; she makes us feel it by being in it. This is her emotional realism. It extends behind projecting into the characters, but by virtue of investing time into observing the process of their struggles, it allots the time to form a “real” emotional response. Scenes like a constrained view of the rocking chair being left behind, and observed from the inside of the carriage provide a point of view shot that is not necessarily tied to any of the existing characters. It is a point of view reserved for the viewer.
The structure makes the audience more than spectators by giving a sense of belonging to this marginalization—being part of this caravan. Playing with the sound levels, the conversations are rendered intelligible and are realistically affected by where the characters are standing which subjects us to their physical realism. During the night scenes, the surrogate place of the camera is not favored with more light, and is submerged into a futile attempt to distinguish anything. When straight-cuts throw a time lapse, we are subjected to the blinding morning light. A handheld shot that tracks alongside the wagons, make it seem as if we are walking, not longer observing from the side with a stable shot.
Reichardt’s ability to capture a glance of life, and provide a moving camera that presents the opportunity to step into it, seems to reflect her overall style. Just like the politics are present, it is up to the viewer to choose how engaged to become. The opportunities and material are there, but just like the characters, there has to be a choice—a personal decision to move forward.
There is certainly a prominent use of realism in the film, particularly in relation to nature. The opening scenes of "Meek's Cutoff" are quiet, lacking in content or dialogue and devoid of any significant exposition or narration. Nevertheless, the cinematography of these scenes provides meaning when the content does not or adds to it when the content provides little.
The sights and sounds from the very first take of the film demonstrate Reichardt's commitment to what you termed as "emotional realism." The square frame provides the viewer with a limited view as it is compared to contemporary Hollywood films. Adding to this, Reichardt made "a rule that there would be no vistas, because [she] did not want to be romanticizing the west" (Hall, 121). Consequently, "Meek's Cutoff" is no standard John Ford western. For instance, the viewer never sees the entire wagon train moving across the desert from a distance, but only individual wagons moving in and out of frame. Reichardt provides the viewer with a "depiction of a difficult, alienating, and dangerous journey" (Hall, 121). Thus, she is favoring realism over romanticism.
The realism depicted through the proportion of the frame is enhance by what is in the frame. Even at the very beginning, rather than simply show the viewer a wagon train of pioneers as an establishing shot, then cut to a conversation between them to provide the exposition, Reichardt allows the viewer (through the camera), to "follow" the pioneers around for at least a few minutes. Viewers observe them travel, rest and travel some more, while performing their "mundane daily tasks" (Hall, 114) such as washing dishes, before every really getting to know any of the characters.
This focus on the "mundane daily tasks" of the pioneers in the film's early moments is reinforced by the absence of dialogue. By limiting sound in these scenes, for the most part, to the natural sounds of a river running or the wagons moving across the hard ground, viewers are compelled to focus on the actions displayed on screen since there is no dialogue to listen to.
The combined video and sound techniques depict the difficulty and hopelessness of the pioneers. The cinematography immerses the viewers in the lives of the characters and makes the struggle of their everyday lives seem all the more real.
Superb post. You are developing a conceptual way of accounting for her work with the help of your notion of "emotional realism." You could construct around it an entire--publishable--essay....
Meek’s Cutoff (2010) out of every film we have screened so far, resonated with me the most. Reichardt’s retelling of a historic event, The Oregon Trail, is both brilliant and beautiful. As these travelers are emigrating to the “promise land”, I can personally identify with their experience. In my own experience with coming to America (my parent’s version of the promise land) I remember the things that my family carried: clothes, passports, and money. Of course, traveling was much easier compared to the wagon train days, but the experience is comparable. Coming to a new country was certainly frightening for my family, especially when one leaves everything behind for a gamble towards a better life.
James Ponsoldt’s interview with Reichardt describes the film’s tone perfectly, “Reichardt’s choices aren’t accidental, they’re subtly idiosyncratic, and the net effect is that these films leave a wake behind them. They stay with you. They might even haunt you.” Her minimalistic style is an overture to what the Trail was like back then. We see just how minimal the three families lived during their travel on the trail. They could not carry much with them, and even Emily had to get rid of some extra things in her wagon. Moreover, everyone had to depend greatly on the land to provide for their basic needs. Just like my own experience, my family traveled with only the things mentioned above. Indeed, everything was “bare bones” for us, and the long cuts, and wide shots in the film of the land emphasized this notion.
When examining this film, there is also a strong resonance with the Old Testament where Moses led his people to the “promise land”. The film captures this notion with Jimmy reading a line from the Bible, “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” A prominent reading for the Catholic celebration of Ash Wednesday transitioning into Lent. In the film, we never see these people eating meat, but we do see Emily (perhaps it was Millie or Glory) making bread. Like in the Exodus story, the Israelites fed from Manna (bread) and Meek and the Native American resembles this proto-Moses trait of leading to the promise land.
Overall, the notion of emigration or immigration ties back to a desire for a better life. Moreover, there is a major sacrifice of leaving behind one’s life to start a new life, and the journey is filled with perils and uncertainty. Indeed, the film was haunting for me, as Ponsoldt describes Reichardt’s work. This haunting aspect is introduced with the POV shot in the opening scene, as if perhaps the Native American was already watching the families. Moreover, the ending scene is especially haunting as Emily stares with uncertainty at the Native American—where is this man leading us?
The link to the Christian notion of the Promised Land is interesting; it's of course--in the American context--tied to the notion of "manifest destiny." Arguably, the film undercuts this notion, revealing it--certainly in its "manifest destiny" instantiation--as a highly problematic ideology. And if Meek is Moses then the future of Christianity was always already in trouble, given that Meek is a less than savory/reliable/etc leader; conversely, if the Native is a Moses-like figure then that itself is a massive underrmining, by the film and KR, of the Christianity-based "manifest destiny" idea that dominated the country in the 19th, and well into the 20th ct, with remnants still being present today.
A.O. Scott reviews Reichardt’s film and says, “‘Meek’s Cutoff’ is built around a dialectic of freedom and constriction” (Scott). Scott goes on to describe how Reichardt contrasts the freedom of the open land with a constricted aspect ratio, focusing closely on the character’s faces, unlike a traditional western that exhibits the vastness of the landscapes. However, I’d like to expand on this idea of the conflict between freedom and constriction a little further. When we think of the term freedom, we think of people being free from control/power, while people who are constricted/restricted have some sort of controlling force over them. I think the power struggles are particularly evident in the film. There is Stephen Meek, who originally has the control over the group’s expedition through the Oregon wilderness. However, it is likely that his power gets overthrown because of the ideas of freedom in American culture. America was built on an ideal of liberty, and therefore, these people are on their pursuit through Oregon because they likely want to reach a place where they can establish a life for themselves and be free. Their quest for the ultimate freedom - that is, starting up on their own in a new place - is what causes conflict with Meek. These people do not want to be constricted to following this man, especially when it seems he has led them down an incorrect path. The power struggle becomes increasingly obvious when they would rather trust a Native American to lead them than one of their own, which at the time the film takes place, this would be a major issue in the group dynamic. Meek completely loses his control over the group when he aims his gun at the Indian, and Emily subsequently points a gun at Meek. The tension rises for about a minute, which is a very long time, and finally, Meek lowers his gun, and thus gives up all power he has.
Of course these pioneers or settlers seeking freedom in the Northwest also means--as the film makes clear--the settling of land that actually already was "occupied" by a people--by what we call today the 1st people or Native Americans. So even in this, their desire to be free, the dialectical opposition of constriction is inscribed: their freedom, as it were, would have to come at the original inhabitants' massive cost of being restricted & constrained--oppressed--by these European-American settlers...
I think that your post makes a really great point when you talk about Meek's power struggle. He went into this excursion as the leader with all of the experience. I think that he felt this gave him power over the group but also respect. This was important to him and when the group started to doubt him he began to lose that power. One of the lines I can't really get out of my head is when Emily says, "I don't blame him for not known, I blame him for sayin' he did." The longer they go without water and the more hopeless the situation gets, the less power Meek has over the group. I also think that he becomes threatened by the native american, not only because of his apparent distain for them as a people, but because like you mentioned, the group began to listen to him more than they listened to Meek. I also really like the scene you pointed out because I think it makes a lot of statements that actually act as a turning point for the rest of the movie. It is the point when Emily takes up some real power of her own and also the rest of the group realizes that they might have power of their own as well. LIke you said, this strips Meek of just about all the power he has left.
One thing that interested me about this showing of Meek's Cutoff is when Professor Abel mentioned the association between Meek and George W. Bush, seeing as Reichardt's last two films were fairly political. After that, I couldn't help but scrutinize each and every action of Meek, to the point where when they differed I didn't consider it. In a way, Meek seems like a caricature of George Bush in the early to mid 2000's. Haughty, stubborn and obsessed with machismo. Meek led the party into nowhere with his head held up high, like many would consider what happened with the Iraq war during the Bush administration.
Now, after the film is done I'm not sure how I feel about that anymore. While they may make a comparison, comparing Meek to Bush is almost too ham-fisted, particularly for Reichardt whose political commentary are often more implicit than explicit. When asked in the Ponsoldt interview, Reichardt has this to say about Meek's Cutoff and the Bush administration:
"Yeah, I don’t really want to go down that path. But it is interesting because Jon and I will think about those things in the beginning, and then we’ll make ourselves stop talking about them. There’s a point where we just cut ourselves off, like, “We can’t think about that anymore, we’re doing this story.” Bush was in office when we started and by the time I was editing Obama had been elected. It almost didn’t matter what was going on in the world, I felt I could project onto the film on any given day whatever was currently happening. Maybe because American history is so repetitive."
I read this as Reichardt having left the Bush comparison before the film started filming, but that doesn't mean that the two are wholly separate. In itself, Meek represents a dark era in American history, the sort of manifest destiny settler who would terrorize and ultimately drive away the native americans from their homeland. Meek, being based off of a real figure, was perhaps played on making a commentary on this sort of romanticized masculine figure to which we seem to worship to this day (John Wayne is an excellent example of this). In a bizarre turn of events, this would bring the comparison back to Bush, whom was clearly influenced by Reagan's presidency which was strongly focused on a return to classic masculine standards for men. So to summarise, Meek isn't a commentary on Bush himself, but the culture that Bush belongs to which is easily as American as apple pie, baseball, and the other terrible things we've done these past few centuries. Perhaps I'm reading into this a bit much, I am admittedly very liberal and my judgement over 2000's politics is fairly biased, but what do you fellers think?
Andrew I really enjoyed your post! I think the comparison of Meek to GWB is just off because Meek was a real individual. Now if this was a fictional story I believe that the comparison would be a bit more factual. What I did find so fascinating was Reichardt's last line in your quotation, "Maybe because History is so repetitive." Showing us a glimpse at the realism of this event makes this film timeless. This story will always be relevant.
I absolutely agree with you. I think that Meek could represent George W. Bush, the actions of the government during his presidency, America's attitude towards other races/cultures, and the American obsession with hyper masculinity. I was planning on writing my own blog post centered around many of the same ideas and using the same quote as you, so I'll try not to repeat too much of what you've said. It definitely seems like Reichardt was against the idea of making Meek a caricature of Bush by the time filming began, so I as well think that what he represents is more of an abstract collection of modern American views and ideals.
His treatment of the Native American was perhaps most indicative of that - he calls him a savage, says right away that they should kill him, and threatens to harm him several more times as the film progresses. He claims that he acts this way because he has had many dealings with Native Americans, but we see no real proof of that, so he could just be repeating false and racist stories that have no merit. While everyone else seems to keep their distance from, or, in Michelle Williams's character's case, help the captive, Meek actively bullies him. To me, this is very reminiscent of many American's post-9/11 feelings towards Middle Eastern and Muslim people, and is what solidified my dislike for his character. However, I as well am biased, because I am liberal and grew up in a very rural, very racist region of the US. Perhaps I'm placing too much of my own personal experience onto what type of character Meek was, but that's how he seemed to me.
"Maybe because American History is so repetitive." That is definitely what I've felt in the past few years. And in this story it's easy to replace what the Indian character stands for. Insert any controversial topic for him and we'll see Meek's character come back to the same group or person.
A week on facebook makes it feel like the world is made up of 'Meeks'.
Granted I'm with Andrew and seem to be labeled fairly liberal (Mostly by my grandmother). I'd be interested to hear something from the other side.
Like Andrew, I took note of Marco mentioning the similarities and comparisons of Meek's character to GWB and couldn't help but make connections myself throughout the film. Had I not been looking for it I don't know if I would have seen this film as politically charged, but more of a time capsule using archetype characters that are seen in all sorts of films. One could simply see it as a caricature of how Americans are perceived in general to the rest of the world, regardless of political affiliation. Americans are viewed as loud and boisterous which is pretty spot on to Meek's character. It's easy to view this as a politically charged film but I think the argument could be made that America as a whole suffers from a superiority complex.
When Meek’s Cutoff begins what we are stuck with is a sense of silence in the dialogue the first word of dialogue isn’t used until minute 7 of the film. What this leaves the audience with is just the nature of the Oregon trail and how utterly hard their lives are. KR supports this idea by stating, “That was a lot to sort out in the editing room, weeding everything out that I wanted, coming up with the sounds, like the wagons’ squeaky wheels. Just getting the particular sounds so that the quiet is emphasized” (Ponsoldt 2011). This point is driven home by the slow (extremely slow) fade from the water lush babbling river (which has basically been the only soundtrack thus far) to a bleak desert like image of their existence. “He informed audience is thereby cued to a potential tragic narrative of desperation and exhaustion, not unlike the audience for a film like The Alamo (1960) where the outcome is already known.” (Morrison 2011) This introduction is so important because it sets the tone in a way that the stereotypical western doesn’t, it shows us a realistic depiction of these people’s journey. (I know I’m focusing a lot of the intro right now, but I find it very fascinating) The first line of spoken dialogue is a verse for the bible’s book of genesis discussing the story of Eden and Adam and Eve. This is fitting because it is juxtaposing the idea of a lush garden and the promise land (as many people who migrated this trail were told they were headed to) with, again, the reality of their situation. What is interesting is how you compare the very first scene with the scene about an hour or so into the movie. We see the settlers begin to worry about water and when they will find it, tensions clearly running high and the camera pans over to the Native American carving on the rocks. I believe this is alluding to the first scene where they are carving “Lost” into the dry wood. This really brings this full circle for the audience in my opinion. This really sets in their desperation, from the viewers point of view.
After reading "In Transit," I was preparing myself through the course of the film to be let down by the film's ending, or at the very least caught off guard. Susan Morrison complained that "it couldn't end like that," but as time went on it grew on her. Having this expectation from the beginning, I was able to enjoy it more.
The ending- where Meek hands the lead over to Emily- would be the climax of a normally paced, mainstream film. Working our way backwards from this, the "high point" of the plot, so to speak, would be when their water spills. Finding water was the main driving force in the plot within the context of working their way west.
It isn't necessarily a problem for the film, but it raises some interesting questions when the climax of a film is the manifestation of its biggest problem and not a solution for it. The ending would have been a better climax since it was a solution to the tension between Meek and Emily.
This film might have fallen far outside of the conventions of mainstream cinema, but it fell perfectly well into Reichardt's aesthetic. Andrew already touched on the potential political interpretations of this film, which is a fun discussion that I'm avoiding today because I applied it to "Wendy and Lucy" yesterday.
One of my favorite features of Reichardt's style that both today's and yesterday's film had was her tendency to place at the forefront exactly what the characters have to their name. Yesterday, it was the shot of Wendy's accounting- we know exactly how much money she has. Today, it was the shots of the water bucket- something even more valuable than money.
This is one of the best ways she allows for the "open spaces" in her films. We know, like her characters, what they have to work with. We can guess how they feel, how they might move forward, and so on. The minimalistic action in her movies leaves room for us to make these judgements.
To this end, the "climax" of this movie works. The travelers had very little to begin with, and now they have even less (a common pattern from previous Reichardt films). Do they give up, or does it give them even more of a reason to get west? "Meek's Cutoff" might have the most open ending of any Reichardt film we've seen so far.
The NY Times reported, "[Old Joy, Wendy and Lucy, and Meek's Cutoff] form a loose trilogy...These movies are, at first glance, simple and austere stories in which very little happens...But tucked inside these carefully told, almost anecdotal narratives are intense emotions, intractable social problems and human truths that are too deep, too sad and perhaps to painfully absurd to name." Having read this before class, I watched Meek's Cutoff specifically looking for ways in which it connected with Old Joy and Wendy and Lucy. The theme of the societal outcast is what I'll focus on in this post.
Kurt from Old Joy is presumably homeless, possibly homosexual, and definitely outlandish. Wendy is homeless and largely unsocialized. In Meek's Cutoff, we have two characters who are different enough to be outcasts. If we consider the three families on the trail to be a small community, together they are the ones who draw the line, who say when someone or something is too much. As such, they have cast out Stephen Meek and the Indian.
Meek reminds me of Kurt. Both aren't afraid to speak their mind and share their eccentricities with others. For example, Kurt talks about his universe-shaped-like-a-tear-drop theory and Meek discusses the differences of men and women as being originated from destruction and chaos, respectively.
The Indian is misunderstood, quite literally because he does not speak English. Other than the language barrier, he is considered different from everyone else because of his 'unorthodox' culture and customs. One of the women traveling in the caravan (Lily, I think), becomes so paranoid by his presence that everything the Indian does, from drawing on stone to seeing a stack of rocks, makes her cry out in alarm. The Indian is not so different from Wendy. Wendy tends to be by herself and does not actively try to get anyone to understand her. We see this at the bonfire when she discloses little to nothing about herself. Both the Indian and Wendy also end up accepting a kindness from the person he and she are the closest to in the film. The Indian has his shoe repaired by Emily, and Wendy accepts some money from the security guard.
I find some of the most interesting things about Reichardt’s films to be the connections between each of them. Like she stated in the interview that professor Abel screened for us on Monday, Reichardt see’s her reoccurring themes much like a painter who continues to paint a picture of their mother. Lost in America, seeking a better life would be Reichardt’s reoccurring picture. We always drop into the middle of things, not really knowing what the past or future is for certain. This idea of dropping in seems necessary with most short stories, and certainly the style of Jon Raymond and Reichardt.
During one of the first scenes in Wendy and Lucy, it’s almost fulfilling to see Will Oldham’s character telling stories around the campfire, because it reflects the story he tells to Mark about his big “transformative trip” when they where in the car together. It doesn’t seem to be a coincidence that he is a traveler in both films.
It makes sense Reichardt is exploring the Northwest throughout her films since Raymond’s short stories are based there. With some of the other connections between Wendy and Lucy and Meek’s Cutoff, I find it interesting that the end of the Oregon Trail (near Willamette Valley) happens to be extremely close to where Wendy’s story takes place in Wilsonville Oregon. In fact, Wilsonville is basically a suburb of Oregon City, just 14 miles away. I see this idea of Reichardt never showing us a concrete ending, just like the battles people face in her films, they never end.
Once again, Reichardt stuns us with yet another neorealism film but this time by retelling the history of The Oregon Trail. From what I know of the history of the trail, it is not only a pathway leading to Oregon but it also connects different states all around the US. Native Americans were stereotyped negatively back then. People thought that they were dangerous and caused problems to travelers which explains why the travelers in the film were scared and hated the Native American that they eventually caught.
From what we have discussed in class today about how Reichardt relates her films to political issues. I noticed a lot of separations of groups happening in the film among the men and women. Reichardt gives us a clear view on the power and status division among men and women back in the olden days. From the start, the women were seen conducting typical women duties such as cooking, collecting water, and knitting. The men were seen doing more of the labor work like fixing the wagon wheel. Whenever they had a discussions about the journey, both the men and women would be separated. The men would be the one deciding where to go. However, the discussions were always seen in the women’s point of view. So, we wouldn’t know exactly what the men were discussing about. I feel that the whole movie was based on the women’s point of view. For example, when the two men caught the Red Indian, the view of the Red Indian was through Emily’s point of view.
Also among the men, there was a power divide based on age. The older man (Mr. Meek) holds more power and had more say. I noticed that he was also the one that has most to say about the Red Indians. He would constantly tell how dangerous they are to the rest – to scare them – and they would believe him without any justification. This shows how much power can be used to manipulate people’s thinking. All these can also be seen in today’s society in one way or another. Speaking of groups, I found it strange that the Red Indian in the movie was by himself because they usually travel around in groups or tribe. At one point of the film, we see him drawing on the wall of what looks like houses and people. So, there is a possibility that he was all alone out there in search of a home. Another aspect of the film that I found interesting was the constant squeaky sound of the wagon wheel. ”The longer the caravan is lost in the desert, the more individually isolated they become, and the intermittent melody contributes to the oppressive atmosphere and the pioneers’ squeaky wagon wheel represents their plight” (Focus 122). Although at one point of the film we see one of the men fix the wheel but the sound was still there. It was pretty loud as though it was purposely amplified for the viewers. The sound kind of adds this sense of annoyance in the viewers. Based on the passage above, we now know that the sound symbolizes their trouble and even though they tried to fix it, it was still there.
With the first two films we watched featured a few actors in them, but for the most part Reichardt used real people. Obviously, this film couldn't be done that way since the West has long been settled. Despite this, Reichardt still managed to pull off making the film realistic. She did this by not being afraid to have nothing go on for a while. That's how life was in the West. It wasn't action packed with shoot-outs every day. One of the longest things people had to do back then was travel. Although, it may not have been the most exhilarating parts of the movie, it was accurate. It has to be difficult to try and convey that a lot of time has passed and they have traveled a long way, but Reichardt didn't fall into the trap of using dialogue as a way skate around that. Ultimately, it conveyed that Reichardt was realistically trying to display what the West was like.
I completely agree with your post. This movie wasn't the exhilarating Western we're accustomed to seeing but an accurate depiction of the struggles pioneers endured. I feel that is what made the movie so good. Seeing the hardships they went through just traveling a few miles and the struggle to find water, simple things that we take for granted today, put things in perspective for me.
As with Drew, I came into this film waiting to be disappointed by the ending. Luckily I was pleasantly surprised with the hope I found within it, even if that is not what Reichardt intended it. That discussion has already been said in previous days though so I will not discuss it here.
Besides the ending, I was also especially interested in the aspect ratio and how it would affect the film. I noticed right away that it gave the desert a closed, claustrophobic feeling, especially in medium shots like the scene where the women were all knitting. This claustrophobic feeling is very different from numerous other desert-based films I’ve seen which use the whole screen to show the expanse of the desert.
I kept thinking about how Reichardt used the “square” ration as a tool so the audience would be looking through a bonnet or the wagon openings. This in turn gave a weight to the film that wouldn’t be there if it was shot in the normal widescreen mode. The square allows the audience to feel like we are another pioneer traveling down the trail, or are like the little boy sitting in the wagon.
Like the boy in the wagon, we are similar to children because of this. We have a tunnel focus and can only see the immediate in the shot, which makes us focus the objects Reichardt set up. We are also like children in the way that we are ignorant to some of the problems the adults are having. Similar to all three directors we have seen this semester, this film starts in the middle of the action and the audience can only keep up with the immediate problems.
There are no deep histories about the pioneers (except Meek’s crazy tales). In fact, I believe the only time we even hear a history is when Solomon mentions his dead wife. These filming techniques keep that same motion which Reichardt has done in every film we have seen. “Reichardt is a filmmaker too wedded to details and sense data to subsume a well-defined setting and its inhabitants under a stock narrative” (Fellow Travelers, 26). She leaves out the history, and uses the framing instead to tell us more about what we should be paying attention to.
Meeks Cutoff is a very isolated film. Not only does the film itself give very little context for the wandering's of its characters, but the film itself is isolated from the very genre it seeks to present. This is a far cry from the John Wayne "shoot first and maybe ask questions" attitude or the bleak, wandering Sergio Leone classics. Obviously Reichart, who works on a more reasonable budget than more prominent directors, couldn't afford to have wild shoot-outs or grandiose villas to explore, but I don't think she'd want to include those elements if she could. In many ways this is the most realistic western I've ever seen. This is in large part why it is so isolated from the genre. Westerns are not meant to be down to earth or realistic. Even those that would purport to be "based on a true story" are still trying to capture the myth of an age of American expansion. There is no sense of mystical heroes or legendary gunslingers. There are no heroes in this film. Everyone is simply doing whatever they can to survive. Even Michelle William's Emily Tetherow is more afraid than heroic. The only character to come close to the typical Western Archetype is Meek. Yet he feels out of place and over the top in comparison to the other characters and this is completely purposeful. His boisterous, violent nature and "I'm always right" attitude, elements that define most western heroes, are put into an overtly negative light compared to the more down to earth settlers. The film's ending is especially telling, as the Meta-character that is Meeks provides his own structuralist thesis to the final moments. He says "We all play our parts now, written before we got here," alluding to the fact that this is a movie and no matter what they do they are still left without a resolution. Even the final shot of the film offers a genre reversal, as the Native American character walks off into the "sunset."
I like your notion of Meeks being a "meta-character"--perhaps this is also one way for the director to infuse into a film about the distant past a moment of present-ness: that Meeks seems exaggerated might not only call our attention to the fact that we're looking at a movie but also prompt us to make a connection with our own extra-diegetic world.
Honestly I had a really hard time hearing most of the dialogue, so I am going to talk about the visual aspects of the film, Matt Connolly said, “But the expanses of the southwest have never felt quite the way they do in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff… evolution in the director’s depictions of the American landscape.” Every single shot was crafted in a way that allowed the landscape to be as much of a character as any human on set. The layout always seems to flow as if it were a painted canvas or moving picture. Reichardt often set the camera still and allowed the characters to flow in and out of the picture, but the static shot only increased the feel for the land. One of the characters carved “lost” into the tree at the beginning, which was true they were lost. Although, to me, it was more about the nature and being lost in it. Connolly talks about the desperate emotion that comes from the landscape and it is almost pivotal because it allows for the audience to look at the people then the land or vice versa and the collaboration between the two really embody this sense of uncertainty and mystery that the world has to offer. In Wendy and Lucy there was a lot about the land of opportunity that America has to offer and how even middle class people look down upon what some would call homeless. Here it is even more prevalent that the opportunities are as scarce as the water. Another thing she does with the camera is that she only allows natural light. I can’t really wrap my head around whether I enjoyed it or not, but I felt the authenticity was greater because of it. Throughout all of her films there is this realness that lies with in every scene. To use natural light and to shoot on sight etc., it just gives a different perspective of the time and effort put into the film. And to go back again but each shot just seemed so surreal and somewhat “dreamlike” to use Connolly’s words because of how much the frame was used, the landscape that lay within it and the people that surrounded it. Hearing the film would have been nice, but seeing the view was pretty cool too.
One of the most notable visual themes that has reoccured in Kelly Riechardt's films is that of solidarity and how one deals with solidarity. In each of the three films, outsiders face economic hardships which reflects their social status and well-being. In each film, there are characters we connect with and those who we are trying to figure out. In Wendy and Lucy, it was much easier to develop a familiar relationship of understanding that allows the audience to connect to Lucy as many of us have dogs or can understand the relationships dogs can have with people. It's harder to connect with Wendy who is homeless. The common-folk don't interact much with their homeless community. I believe there is even a greater stigma to the younger homeless demographic as if they deserve it which is reflected in the store clerk's decision to turn her in. We see the same alienation in Meek's Cutoff. The species barrier in Wendy and Lucy's relationship turns into a language barrier in Meek's. Meek and the Indian represent the polar opposites of mankind. Near the end of the film when the wagon falls down the valley, the Indian sits and watches the events from above. The camera sits behind the Indian, I believe in the shade, and the deep focus shows Meek watching his crew assess the damage from a distance. Then, the reverse is a close up of Meek's face with a shallow focus and we can see the figure of the Indian behind his shoulder. Communication happens in a much different way in this film. a lot of the way Emily 'communicates' with the Indian is through eye contact and perspective. Dialogue is not as important in the film. The characters dialogue creates more of the space KR mentions in one of her interviews by distancing the audio from the audience and letting it carry through the vast grasslands of the Oregon Trail. This ultra-realism has become an auteuristic theme in her films.
One line in particular stuck out to me in this film when Meek's character is talking to the women sitting by the wagon and they are discussing similairities and differences men and women. Meek says "Women are choas, men are destruction." I kept wanting to know how this would play out in the film and one of the only things I can relate it to is when Meek goes to kill the Indian man played by Rod Rondeaux. Meek is the destruction of a life. Emily who stands to save the life of the Indian and shoot Meek is the chaos. Killing Meek would lose a valuable member of the group but saving the life of the Indian man was low on the priority list of the other group members.
This week of films has shown that Kelly has a real knack of showing isoltion like Jaz said. We often look at worlds on a micro scale and examine the little details compared to someone like Petzold who uses very wide inviting shots, Reichtchardt likes me make us feel like we as an audience are sitting in on a scene and having a face to face conversation with the characters. Isolation is something that each of Reichardt's characters face.
I want to talk about the similarities of the 3 KR films we've watched so far. They are all stand alone films, however I find it interesting how they each have their own contemporary political aspect to them. Old Joy came out in 2006 and really exemplified the ever increasing political divide in a time of uncertainty. 2 years later Wendy and Lucy was released and this story showed class divide. Finally, Meek's Cutoff showed a boisterous character with no lack of hubris who is thought to be a caricature of the Bush administration in the mid 2000s. I would also make the case that this character was representative of the side of America who had not been addressed in KR's first 2 films. Meek may have been loosely based on GWB, but I would argue that the character represented more than him. Meek represented the 'haves' to Kurt (Old Joy) and Wendy's (Wendy and Lucy) 'have-not' characters. I found this to be very fascinating. It was as if KR was continuing her story from the previous 2 films but using a fresh narrative to do so.
In his on-point, Reverse Shot review, Matt Connolly observes that, “Porous to begin with, these dichotomous views of nature flow into one another throughout Meek’s Cutoff [2008]. The landscape is desperate emotion, and it is brutal fact.” Out of the three films by Kelly Reichardt, Meek’s Cutoff seems to be the one with the most representative depiction of her visual style and what I would describe as a “cinema of emotional realism”. This is hinted at in Old Joy (2004) and Wendy and Lucy (2006), but it is most present in this film. A. O. Scott also refers to this aspect in his review by saying that, “The three films form a loose trilogy in which the durable mythology of the West…comes up against some flinty realities…But tucked inside these carefully told, almost anecdotal narratives are intense emotions, intractable social problems and human truths that are too deep, too sad and perhaps too painfully absurd to name.”
ReplyDeleteReichardt’s recognizable long-takes and careful construction of time evolve into more than a style in this film. They become a way of transporting us into her “mythology of the West.” It is in Meek’s Cutoff that the theme reaches its highest potency and is foregrounded—not only through the characters’ self-containment and their out-sidedness and search of a new life, but also by the divisions within their own group, their lack of choice or control in their geographical isolation, and the claustrophobic feeling—reflected in the birds cages and compressed square frame.
Through her cinematographic style, Reichardt doesn’t give the story of being part of the marginalized society; she makes us feel it by being in it. This is her emotional realism. It extends behind projecting into the characters, but by virtue of investing time into observing the process of their struggles, it allots the time to form a “real” emotional response. Scenes like a constrained view of the rocking chair being left behind, and observed from the inside of the carriage provide a point of view shot that is not necessarily tied to any of the existing characters. It is a point of view reserved for the viewer.
The structure makes the audience more than spectators by giving a sense of belonging to this marginalization—being part of this caravan. Playing with the sound levels, the conversations are rendered intelligible and are realistically affected by where the characters are standing which subjects us to their physical realism. During the night scenes, the surrogate place of the camera is not favored with more light, and is submerged into a futile attempt to distinguish anything. When straight-cuts throw a time lapse, we are subjected to the blinding morning light. A handheld shot that tracks alongside the wagons, make it seem as if we are walking, not longer observing from the side with a stable shot.
Reichardt’s ability to capture a glance of life, and provide a moving camera that presents the opportunity to step into it, seems to reflect her overall style. Just like the politics are present, it is up to the viewer to choose how engaged to become. The opportunities and material are there, but just like the characters, there has to be a choice—a personal decision to move forward.
There is certainly a prominent use of realism in the film, particularly in relation to nature. The opening scenes of "Meek's Cutoff" are quiet, lacking in content or dialogue and devoid of any significant exposition or narration. Nevertheless, the cinematography of these scenes provides meaning when the content does not or adds to it when the content provides little.
DeleteThe sights and sounds from the very first take of the film demonstrate Reichardt's commitment to what you termed as "emotional realism." The square frame provides the viewer with a limited view as it is compared to contemporary Hollywood films. Adding to this, Reichardt made "a rule that there would be no vistas, because [she] did not want to be romanticizing the west" (Hall, 121). Consequently, "Meek's Cutoff" is no standard John Ford western. For instance, the viewer never sees the entire wagon train moving across the desert from a distance, but only individual wagons moving in and out of frame. Reichardt provides the viewer with a "depiction of a difficult, alienating, and dangerous journey" (Hall, 121). Thus, she is favoring realism over romanticism.
The realism depicted through the proportion of the frame is enhance by what is in the frame. Even at the very beginning, rather than simply show the viewer a wagon train of pioneers as an establishing shot, then cut to a conversation between them to provide the exposition, Reichardt allows the viewer (through the camera), to "follow" the pioneers around for at least a few minutes. Viewers observe them travel, rest and travel some more, while performing their "mundane daily tasks" (Hall, 114) such as washing dishes, before every really getting to know any of the characters.
This focus on the "mundane daily tasks" of the pioneers in the film's early moments is reinforced by the absence of dialogue. By limiting sound in these scenes, for the most part, to the natural sounds of a river running or the wagons moving across the hard ground, viewers are compelled to focus on the actions displayed on screen since there is no dialogue to listen to.
The combined video and sound techniques depict the difficulty and hopelessness of the pioneers. The cinematography immerses the viewers in the lives of the characters and makes the struggle of their everyday lives seem all the more real.
Superb post. You are developing a conceptual way of accounting for her work with the help of your notion of "emotional realism." You could construct around it an entire--publishable--essay....
DeleteThank you, Professor Abel!
DeleteMeek’s Cutoff (2010) out of every film we have screened so far, resonated with me the most. Reichardt’s retelling of a historic event, The Oregon Trail, is both brilliant and beautiful. As these travelers are emigrating to the “promise land”, I can personally identify with their experience. In my own experience with coming to America (my parent’s version of the promise land) I remember the things that my family carried: clothes, passports, and money. Of course, traveling was much easier compared to the wagon train days, but the experience is comparable. Coming to a new country was certainly frightening for my family, especially when one leaves everything behind for a gamble towards a better life.
ReplyDeleteJames Ponsoldt’s interview with Reichardt describes the film’s tone perfectly, “Reichardt’s choices aren’t accidental, they’re subtly idiosyncratic, and the net effect is that these films leave a wake behind them. They stay with you. They might even haunt you.” Her minimalistic style is an overture to what the Trail was like back then. We see just how minimal the three families lived during their travel on the trail. They could not carry much with them, and even Emily had to get rid of some extra things in her wagon. Moreover, everyone had to depend greatly on the land to provide for their basic needs. Just like my own experience, my family traveled with only the things mentioned above. Indeed, everything was “bare bones” for us, and the long cuts, and wide shots in the film of the land emphasized this notion.
When examining this film, there is also a strong resonance with the Old Testament where Moses led his people to the “promise land”. The film captures this notion with Jimmy reading a line from the Bible, “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” A prominent reading for the Catholic celebration of Ash Wednesday transitioning into Lent. In the film, we never see these people eating meat, but we do see Emily (perhaps it was Millie or Glory) making bread. Like in the Exodus story, the Israelites fed from Manna (bread) and Meek and the Native American resembles this proto-Moses trait of leading to the promise land.
Overall, the notion of emigration or immigration ties back to a desire for a better life. Moreover, there is a major sacrifice of leaving behind one’s life to start a new life, and the journey is filled with perils and uncertainty. Indeed, the film was haunting for me, as Ponsoldt describes Reichardt’s work. This haunting aspect is introduced with the POV shot in the opening scene, as if perhaps the Native American was already watching the families. Moreover, the ending scene is especially haunting as Emily stares with uncertainty at the Native American—where is this man leading us?
The link to the Christian notion of the Promised Land is interesting; it's of course--in the American context--tied to the notion of "manifest destiny." Arguably, the film undercuts this notion, revealing it--certainly in its "manifest destiny" instantiation--as a highly problematic ideology. And if Meek is Moses then the future of Christianity was always already in trouble, given that Meek is a less than savory/reliable/etc leader; conversely, if the Native is a Moses-like figure then that itself is a massive underrmining, by the film and KR, of the Christianity-based "manifest destiny" idea that dominated the country in the 19th, and well into the 20th ct, with remnants still being present today.
DeleteA.O. Scott reviews Reichardt’s film and says, “‘Meek’s Cutoff’ is built around a dialectic of freedom and constriction” (Scott). Scott goes on to describe how Reichardt contrasts the freedom of the open land with a constricted aspect ratio, focusing closely on the character’s faces, unlike a traditional western that exhibits the vastness of the landscapes. However, I’d like to expand on this idea of the conflict between freedom and constriction a little further. When we think of the term freedom, we think of people being free from control/power, while people who are constricted/restricted have some sort of controlling force over them. I think the power struggles are particularly evident in the film. There is Stephen Meek, who originally has the control over the group’s expedition through the Oregon wilderness. However, it is likely that his power gets overthrown because of the ideas of freedom in American culture. America was built on an ideal of liberty, and therefore, these people are on their pursuit through Oregon because they likely want to reach a place where they can establish a life for themselves and be free. Their quest for the ultimate freedom - that is, starting up on their own in a new place - is what causes conflict with Meek. These people do not want to be constricted to following this man, especially when it seems he has led them down an incorrect path. The power struggle becomes increasingly obvious when they would rather trust a Native American to lead them than one of their own, which at the time the film takes place, this would be a major issue in the group dynamic. Meek completely loses his control over the group when he aims his gun at the Indian, and Emily subsequently points a gun at Meek. The tension rises for about a minute, which is a very long time, and finally, Meek lowers his gun, and thus gives up all power he has.
ReplyDeleteOf course these pioneers or settlers seeking freedom in the Northwest also means--as the film makes clear--the settling of land that actually already was "occupied" by a people--by what we call today the 1st people or Native Americans. So even in this, their desire to be free, the dialectical opposition of constriction is inscribed: their freedom, as it were, would have to come at the original inhabitants' massive cost of being restricted & constrained--oppressed--by these European-American settlers...
DeleteI think that your post makes a really great point when you talk about Meek's power struggle. He went into this excursion as the leader with all of the experience. I think that he felt this gave him power over the group but also respect. This was important to him and when the group started to doubt him he began to lose that power. One of the lines I can't really get out of my head is when Emily says, "I don't blame him for not known, I blame him for sayin' he did." The longer they go without water and the more hopeless the situation gets, the less power Meek has over the group. I also think that he becomes threatened by the native american, not only because of his apparent distain for them as a people, but because like you mentioned, the group began to listen to him more than they listened to Meek. I also really like the scene you pointed out because I think it makes a lot of statements that actually act as a turning point for the rest of the movie. It is the point when Emily takes up some real power of her own and also the rest of the group realizes that they might have power of their own as well. LIke you said, this strips Meek of just about all the power he has left.
DeleteOne thing that interested me about this showing of Meek's Cutoff is when Professor Abel mentioned the association between Meek and George W. Bush, seeing as Reichardt's last two films were fairly political. After that, I couldn't help but scrutinize each and every action of Meek, to the point where when they differed I didn't consider it. In a way, Meek seems like a caricature of George Bush in the early to mid 2000's. Haughty, stubborn and obsessed with machismo. Meek led the party into nowhere with his head held up high, like many would consider what happened with the Iraq war during the Bush administration.
ReplyDeleteNow, after the film is done I'm not sure how I feel about that anymore. While they may make a comparison, comparing Meek to Bush is almost too ham-fisted, particularly for Reichardt whose political commentary are often more implicit than explicit. When asked in the Ponsoldt interview, Reichardt has this to say about Meek's Cutoff and the Bush administration:
"Yeah, I don’t really want to go down that path. But it is interesting because Jon and I will think about those things in the beginning, and then we’ll make ourselves stop talking about them. There’s a point where we just cut ourselves off, like, “We can’t think about that anymore, we’re doing this story.” Bush was in office when we started and by the time I was editing Obama had been elected. It almost didn’t matter what was going on in the world, I felt I could project onto the film on any given day whatever was currently happening. Maybe because American history is so repetitive."
I read this as Reichardt having left the Bush comparison before the film started filming, but that doesn't mean that the two are wholly separate. In itself, Meek represents a dark era in American history, the sort of manifest destiny settler who would terrorize and ultimately drive away the native americans from their homeland. Meek, being based off of a real figure, was perhaps played on making a commentary on this sort of romanticized masculine figure to which we seem to worship to this day (John Wayne is an excellent example of this). In a bizarre turn of events, this would bring the comparison back to Bush, whom was clearly influenced by Reagan's presidency which was strongly focused on a return to classic masculine standards for men. So to summarise, Meek isn't a commentary on Bush himself, but the culture that Bush belongs to which is easily as American as apple pie, baseball, and the other terrible things we've done these past few centuries. Perhaps I'm reading into this a bit much, I am admittedly very liberal and my judgement over 2000's politics is fairly biased, but what do you fellers think?
Andrew I really enjoyed your post! I think the comparison of Meek to GWB is just off because Meek was a real individual. Now if this was a fictional story I believe that the comparison would be a bit more factual. What I did find so fascinating was Reichardt's last line in your quotation, "Maybe because History is so repetitive." Showing us a glimpse at the realism of this event makes this film timeless. This story will always be relevant.
DeleteI absolutely agree with you. I think that Meek could represent George W. Bush, the actions of the government during his presidency, America's attitude towards other races/cultures, and the American obsession with hyper masculinity. I was planning on writing my own blog post centered around many of the same ideas and using the same quote as you, so I'll try not to repeat too much of what you've said. It definitely seems like Reichardt was against the idea of making Meek a caricature of Bush by the time filming began, so I as well think that what he represents is more of an abstract collection of modern American views and ideals.
DeleteHis treatment of the Native American was perhaps most indicative of that - he calls him a savage, says right away that they should kill him, and threatens to harm him several more times as the film progresses. He claims that he acts this way because he has had many dealings with Native Americans, but we see no real proof of that, so he could just be repeating false and racist stories that have no merit. While everyone else seems to keep their distance from, or, in Michelle Williams's character's case, help the captive, Meek actively bullies him. To me, this is very reminiscent of many American's post-9/11 feelings towards Middle Eastern and Muslim people, and is what solidified my dislike for his character. However, I as well am biased, because I am liberal and grew up in a very rural, very racist region of the US. Perhaps I'm placing too much of my own personal experience onto what type of character Meek was, but that's how he seemed to me.
"Maybe because American History is so repetitive." That is definitely what I've felt in the past few years. And in this story it's easy to replace what the Indian character stands for. Insert any controversial topic for him and we'll see Meek's character come back to the same group or person.
DeleteA week on facebook makes it feel like the world is made up of 'Meeks'.
Granted I'm with Andrew and seem to be labeled fairly liberal (Mostly by my grandmother). I'd be interested to hear something from the other side.
Like Andrew, I took note of Marco mentioning the similarities and comparisons of Meek's character to GWB and couldn't help but make connections myself throughout the film. Had I not been looking for it I don't know if I would have seen this film as politically charged, but more of a time capsule using archetype characters that are seen in all sorts of films. One could simply see it as a caricature of how Americans are perceived in general to the rest of the world, regardless of political affiliation. Americans are viewed as loud and boisterous which is pretty spot on to Meek's character. It's easy to view this as a politically charged film but I think the argument could be made that America as a whole suffers from a superiority complex.
DeleteWhen Meek’s Cutoff begins what we are stuck with is a sense of silence in the dialogue the first word of dialogue isn’t used until minute 7 of the film. What this leaves the audience with is just the nature of the Oregon trail and how utterly hard their lives are. KR supports this idea by stating, “That was a lot to sort out in the editing room, weeding everything out that I wanted, coming up with the sounds, like the wagons’ squeaky wheels. Just getting the particular sounds so that the quiet is emphasized” (Ponsoldt 2011). This point is driven home by the slow (extremely slow) fade from the water lush babbling river (which has basically been the only soundtrack thus far) to a bleak desert like image of their existence. “He informed audience is thereby cued to a potential tragic narrative of desperation and exhaustion, not unlike the audience for a film like The Alamo (1960) where the outcome is already known.” (Morrison 2011) This introduction is so important because it sets the tone in a way that the stereotypical western doesn’t, it shows us a realistic depiction of these people’s journey. (I know I’m focusing a lot of the intro right now, but I find it very fascinating) The first line of spoken dialogue is a verse for the bible’s book of genesis discussing the story of Eden and Adam and Eve. This is fitting because it is juxtaposing the idea of a lush garden and the promise land (as many people who migrated this trail were told they were headed to) with, again, the reality of their situation.
ReplyDeleteWhat is interesting is how you compare the very first scene with the scene about an hour or so into the movie. We see the settlers begin to worry about water and when they will find it, tensions clearly running high and the camera pans over to the Native American carving on the rocks. I believe this is alluding to the first scene where they are carving “Lost” into the dry wood. This really brings this full circle for the audience in my opinion. This really sets in their desperation, from the viewers point of view.
After reading "In Transit," I was preparing myself through the course of the film to be let down by the film's ending, or at the very least caught off guard. Susan Morrison complained that "it couldn't end like that," but as time went on it grew on her. Having this expectation from the beginning, I was able to enjoy it more.
ReplyDeleteThe ending- where Meek hands the lead over to Emily- would be the climax of a normally paced, mainstream film. Working our way backwards from this, the "high point" of the plot, so to speak, would be when their water spills. Finding water was the main driving force in the plot within the context of working their way west.
It isn't necessarily a problem for the film, but it raises some interesting questions when the climax of a film is the manifestation of its biggest problem and not a solution for it. The ending would have been a better climax since it was a solution to the tension between Meek and Emily.
This film might have fallen far outside of the conventions of mainstream cinema, but it fell perfectly well into Reichardt's aesthetic. Andrew already touched on the potential political interpretations of this film, which is a fun discussion that I'm avoiding today because I applied it to "Wendy and Lucy" yesterday.
One of my favorite features of Reichardt's style that both today's and yesterday's film had was her tendency to place at the forefront exactly what the characters have to their name. Yesterday, it was the shot of Wendy's accounting- we know exactly how much money she has. Today, it was the shots of the water bucket- something even more valuable than money.
This is one of the best ways she allows for the "open spaces" in her films. We know, like her characters, what they have to work with. We can guess how they feel, how they might move forward, and so on. The minimalistic action in her movies leaves room for us to make these judgements.
To this end, the "climax" of this movie works. The travelers had very little to begin with, and now they have even less (a common pattern from previous Reichardt films). Do they give up, or does it give them even more of a reason to get west? "Meek's Cutoff" might have the most open ending of any Reichardt film we've seen so far.
I like how you parse the film with the help of a problem/solution framework. Nice.
DeleteThe NY Times reported, "[Old Joy, Wendy and Lucy, and Meek's Cutoff] form a loose trilogy...These movies are, at first glance, simple and austere stories in which very little happens...But tucked inside these carefully told, almost anecdotal narratives are intense emotions, intractable social problems and human truths that are too deep, too sad and perhaps to painfully absurd to name." Having read this before class, I watched Meek's Cutoff specifically looking for ways in which it connected with Old Joy and Wendy and Lucy. The theme of the societal outcast is what I'll focus on in this post.
ReplyDeleteKurt from Old Joy is presumably homeless, possibly homosexual, and definitely outlandish. Wendy is homeless and largely unsocialized. In Meek's Cutoff, we have two characters who are different enough to be outcasts. If we consider the three families on the trail to be a small community, together they are the ones who draw the line, who say when someone or something is too much. As such, they have cast out Stephen Meek and the Indian.
Meek reminds me of Kurt. Both aren't afraid to speak their mind and share their eccentricities with others. For example, Kurt talks about his universe-shaped-like-a-tear-drop theory and Meek discusses the differences of men and women as being originated from destruction and chaos, respectively.
The Indian is misunderstood, quite literally because he does not speak English. Other than the language barrier, he is considered different from everyone else because of his 'unorthodox' culture and customs. One of the women traveling in the caravan (Lily, I think), becomes so paranoid by his presence that everything the Indian does, from drawing on stone to seeing a stack of rocks, makes her cry out in alarm. The Indian is not so different from Wendy. Wendy tends to be by herself and does not actively try to get anyone to understand her. We see this at the bonfire when she discloses little to nothing about herself. Both the Indian and Wendy also end up accepting a kindness from the person he and she are the closest to in the film. The Indian has his shoe repaired by Emily, and Wendy accepts some money from the security guard.
I find some of the most interesting things about Reichardt’s films to be the connections between each of them. Like she stated in the interview that professor Abel screened for us on Monday, Reichardt see’s her reoccurring themes much like a painter who continues to paint a picture of their mother. Lost in America, seeking a better life would be Reichardt’s reoccurring picture. We always drop into the middle of things, not really knowing what the past or future is for certain. This idea of dropping in seems necessary with most short stories, and certainly the style of Jon Raymond and Reichardt.
ReplyDeleteDuring one of the first scenes in Wendy and Lucy, it’s almost fulfilling to see Will Oldham’s character telling stories around the campfire, because it reflects the story he tells to Mark about his big “transformative trip” when they where in the car together. It doesn’t seem to be a coincidence that he is a traveler in both films.
It makes sense Reichardt is exploring the Northwest throughout her films since Raymond’s short stories are based there. With some of the other connections between Wendy and Lucy and Meek’s Cutoff, I find it interesting that the end of the Oregon Trail (near Willamette Valley) happens to be extremely close to where Wendy’s story takes place in Wilsonville Oregon. In fact, Wilsonville is basically a suburb of Oregon City, just 14 miles away. I see this idea of Reichardt never showing us a concrete ending, just like the battles people face in her films, they never end.
Once again, Reichardt stuns us with yet another neorealism film but this time by retelling the history of The Oregon Trail. From what I know of the history of the trail, it is not only a pathway leading to Oregon but it also connects different states all around the US. Native Americans were stereotyped negatively back then. People thought that they were dangerous and caused problems to travelers which explains why the travelers in the film were scared and hated the Native American that they eventually caught.
ReplyDeleteFrom what we have discussed in class today about how Reichardt relates her films to political issues. I noticed a lot of separations of groups happening in the film among the men and women. Reichardt gives us a clear view on the power and status division among men and women back in the olden days. From the start, the women were seen conducting typical women duties such as cooking, collecting water, and knitting. The men were seen doing more of the labor work like fixing the wagon wheel. Whenever they had a discussions about the journey, both the men and women would be separated. The men would be the one deciding where to go. However, the discussions were always seen in the women’s point of view. So, we wouldn’t know exactly what the men were discussing about. I feel that the whole movie was based on the women’s point of view. For example, when the two men caught the Red Indian, the view of the Red Indian was through Emily’s point of view.
Also among the men, there was a power divide based on age. The older man (Mr. Meek) holds more power and had more say. I noticed that he was also the one that has most to say about the Red Indians. He would constantly tell how dangerous they are to the rest – to scare them – and they would believe him without any justification. This shows how much power can be used to manipulate people’s thinking. All these can also be seen in today’s society in one way or another. Speaking of groups, I found it strange that the Red Indian in the movie was by himself because they usually travel around in groups or tribe. At one point of the film, we see him drawing on the wall of what looks like houses and people. So, there is a possibility that he was all alone out there in search of a home.
Another aspect of the film that I found interesting was the constant squeaky sound of the wagon wheel. ”The longer the caravan is lost in the desert, the more individually isolated they become, and the intermittent melody contributes to the oppressive atmosphere and the pioneers’ squeaky wagon wheel represents their plight” (Focus 122). Although at one point of the film we see one of the men fix the wheel but the sound was still there. It was pretty loud as though it was purposely amplified for the viewers. The sound kind of adds this sense of annoyance in the viewers. Based on the passage above, we now know that the sound symbolizes their trouble and even though they tried to fix it, it was still there.
With the first two films we watched featured a few actors in them, but for the most part Reichardt used real people. Obviously, this film couldn't be done that way since the West has long been settled. Despite this, Reichardt still managed to pull off making the film realistic. She did this by not being afraid to have nothing go on for a while. That's how life was in the West. It wasn't action packed with shoot-outs every day. One of the longest things people had to do back then was travel. Although, it may not have been the most exhilarating parts of the movie, it was accurate. It has to be difficult to try and convey that a lot of time has passed and they have traveled a long way, but Reichardt didn't fall into the trap of using dialogue as a way skate around that. Ultimately, it conveyed that Reichardt was realistically trying to display what the West was like.
ReplyDeleteI completely agree with your post. This movie wasn't the exhilarating Western we're accustomed to seeing but an accurate depiction of the struggles pioneers endured. I feel that is what made the movie so good. Seeing the hardships they went through just traveling a few miles and the struggle to find water, simple things that we take for granted today, put things in perspective for me.
DeleteAs with Drew, I came into this film waiting to be disappointed by the ending. Luckily I was pleasantly surprised with the hope I found within it, even if that is not what Reichardt intended it. That discussion has already been said in previous days though so I will not discuss it here.
ReplyDeleteBesides the ending, I was also especially interested in the aspect ratio and how it would affect the film. I noticed right away that it gave the desert a closed, claustrophobic feeling, especially in medium shots like the scene where the women were all knitting. This claustrophobic feeling is very different from numerous other desert-based films I’ve seen which use the whole screen to show the expanse of the desert.
I kept thinking about how Reichardt used the “square” ration as a tool so the audience would be looking through a bonnet or the wagon openings. This in turn gave a weight to the film that wouldn’t be there if it was shot in the normal widescreen mode. The square allows the audience to feel like we are another pioneer traveling down the trail, or are like the little boy sitting in the wagon.
Like the boy in the wagon, we are similar to children because of this. We have a tunnel focus and can only see the immediate in the shot, which makes us focus the objects Reichardt set up. We are also like children in the way that we are ignorant to some of the problems the adults are having. Similar to all three directors we have seen this semester, this film starts in the middle of the action and the audience can only keep up with the immediate problems.
There are no deep histories about the pioneers (except Meek’s crazy tales). In fact, I believe the only time we even hear a history is when Solomon mentions his dead wife. These filming techniques keep that same motion which Reichardt has done in every film we have seen. “Reichardt is a filmmaker too wedded to details and sense data to subsume a well-defined setting and its inhabitants under a stock narrative” (Fellow Travelers, 26). She leaves out the history, and uses the framing instead to tell us more about what we should be paying attention to.
Meeks Cutoff is a very isolated film. Not only does the film itself give very little context for the wandering's of its characters, but the film itself is isolated from the very genre it seeks to present. This is a far cry from the John Wayne "shoot first and maybe ask questions" attitude or the bleak, wandering Sergio Leone classics. Obviously Reichart, who works on a more reasonable budget than more prominent directors, couldn't afford to have wild shoot-outs or grandiose villas to explore, but I don't think she'd want to include those elements if she could. In many ways this is the most realistic western I've ever seen. This is in large part why it is so isolated from the genre. Westerns are not meant to be down to earth or realistic. Even those that would purport to be "based on a true story" are still trying to capture the myth of an age of American expansion. There is no sense of mystical heroes or legendary gunslingers. There are no heroes in this film. Everyone is simply doing whatever they can to survive. Even Michelle William's Emily Tetherow is more afraid than heroic. The only character to come close to the typical Western Archetype is Meek. Yet he feels out of place and over the top in comparison to the other characters and this is completely purposeful. His boisterous, violent nature and "I'm always right" attitude, elements that define most western heroes, are put into an overtly negative light compared to the more down to earth settlers. The film's ending is especially telling, as the Meta-character that is Meeks provides his own structuralist thesis to the final moments. He says "We all play our parts now, written before we got here," alluding to the fact that this is a movie and no matter what they do they are still left without a resolution. Even the final shot of the film offers a genre reversal, as the Native American character walks off into the "sunset."
ReplyDeleteI like your notion of Meeks being a "meta-character"--perhaps this is also one way for the director to infuse into a film about the distant past a moment of present-ness: that Meeks seems exaggerated might not only call our attention to the fact that we're looking at a movie but also prompt us to make a connection with our own extra-diegetic world.
DeleteHonestly I had a really hard time hearing most of the dialogue, so I am going to talk about the visual aspects of the film, Matt Connolly said, “But the expanses of the southwest have never felt quite the way they do in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff… evolution in the director’s depictions of the American landscape.” Every single shot was crafted in a way that allowed the landscape to be as much of a character as any human on set. The layout always seems to flow as if it were a painted canvas or moving picture. Reichardt often set the camera still and allowed the characters to flow in and out of the picture, but the static shot only increased the feel for the land. One of the characters carved “lost” into the tree at the beginning, which was true they were lost. Although, to me, it was more about the nature and being lost in it. Connolly talks about the desperate emotion that comes from the landscape and it is almost pivotal because it allows for the audience to look at the people then the land or vice versa and the collaboration between the two really embody this sense of uncertainty and mystery that the world has to offer. In Wendy and Lucy there was a lot about the land of opportunity that America has to offer and how even middle class people look down upon what some would call homeless. Here it is even more prevalent that the opportunities are as scarce as the water.
ReplyDeleteAnother thing she does with the camera is that she only allows natural light. I can’t really wrap my head around whether I enjoyed it or not, but I felt the authenticity was greater because of it. Throughout all of her films there is this realness that lies with in every scene. To use natural light and to shoot on sight etc., it just gives a different perspective of the time and effort put into the film. And to go back again but each shot just seemed so surreal and somewhat “dreamlike” to use Connolly’s words because of how much the frame was used, the landscape that lay within it and the people that surrounded it. Hearing the film would have been nice, but seeing the view was pretty cool too.
One of the most notable visual themes that has reoccured in Kelly Riechardt's films is that of solidarity and how one deals with solidarity. In each of the three films, outsiders face economic hardships which reflects their social status and well-being. In each film, there are characters we connect with and those who we are trying to figure out. In Wendy and Lucy, it was much easier to develop a familiar relationship of understanding that allows the audience to connect to Lucy as many of us have dogs or can understand the relationships dogs can have with people. It's harder to connect with Wendy who is homeless. The common-folk don't interact much with their homeless community. I believe there is even a greater stigma to the younger homeless demographic as if they deserve it which is reflected in the store clerk's decision to turn her in. We see the same alienation in Meek's Cutoff. The species barrier in Wendy and Lucy's relationship turns into a language barrier in Meek's. Meek and the Indian represent the polar opposites of mankind. Near the end of the film when the wagon falls down the valley, the Indian sits and watches the events from above. The camera sits behind the Indian, I believe in the shade, and the deep focus shows Meek watching his crew assess the damage from a distance. Then, the reverse is a close up of Meek's face with a shallow focus and we can see the figure of the Indian behind his shoulder. Communication happens in a much different way in this film. a lot of the way Emily 'communicates' with the Indian is through eye contact and perspective. Dialogue is not as important in the film. The characters dialogue creates more of the space KR mentions in one of her interviews by distancing the audio from the audience and letting it carry through the vast grasslands of the Oregon Trail. This ultra-realism has become an auteuristic theme in her films.
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ReplyDeleteOne line in particular stuck out to me in this film when Meek's character is talking to the women sitting by the wagon and they are discussing similairities and differences men and women. Meek says "Women are choas, men are destruction." I kept wanting to know how this would play out in the film and one of the only things I can relate it to is when Meek goes to kill the Indian man played by Rod Rondeaux. Meek is the destruction of a life. Emily who stands to save the life of the Indian and shoot Meek is the chaos. Killing Meek would lose a valuable member of the group but saving the life of the Indian man was low on the priority list of the other group members.
ReplyDeleteThis week of films has shown that Kelly has a real knack of showing isoltion like Jaz said. We often look at worlds on a micro scale and examine the little details compared to someone like Petzold who uses very wide inviting shots, Reichtchardt likes me make us feel like we as an audience are sitting in on a scene and having a face to face conversation with the characters. Isolation is something that each of Reichardt's characters face.
I want to talk about the similarities of the 3 KR films we've watched so far. They are all stand alone films, however I find it interesting how they each have their own contemporary political aspect to them. Old Joy came out in 2006 and really exemplified the ever increasing political divide in a time of uncertainty. 2 years later Wendy and Lucy was released and this story showed class divide. Finally, Meek's Cutoff showed a boisterous character with no lack of hubris who is thought to be a caricature of the Bush administration in the mid 2000s. I would also make the case that this character was representative of the side of America who had not been addressed in KR's first 2 films. Meek may have been loosely based on GWB, but I would argue that the character represented more than him. Meek represented the 'haves' to Kurt (Old Joy) and Wendy's (Wendy and Lucy) 'have-not' characters. I found this to be very fascinating. It was as if KR was continuing her story from the previous 2 films but using a fresh narrative to do so.
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