Hello, reader! It's Jay. Today, I come with the great news that we hadn't forgotten about this quaint little blog, we had just been prioritising some event planning (more news to come...) and our exams! Not only this though, as today, I am also going to be attempting what some may call the impossible; I'm going to be attempting to sell to you the wondrous world of experimental film.
Yes - I know, I've probably lost some of you already, but, for those who have an open mind (or are already fans of the category), I hope you'll stay with me through what will hopefully be a smooth and straightforward post about the least smooth and least straightforward category of cinema that has ever and probably will ever exist, a category that you'll probably know is my absolute favourite. If you've paid attention to any of the content we publish anywhere, you'll probably have seen my incredibly unsubtle promotion of experimentalism. I've forced Chloe to watch Mulholland Drive for Kino Introducing and I've given my fellow podcasters a blessing in making them all watch Eraserhead for a recent episode. We even had a whole two weeks focused on experimental films over on the Instagram page (you are most welcome). Whilst the films I've named here are both by David Lynch, who is undoubtedly the king of experimental film, this post is going to go further than just Lynch, though I'm sure with absolutely zero encouragement I would write a post solely on his work.
What makes a film experimental?
Actually defining the experimental style is really difficult for me, due to how much of an umbrella term it has become. It used to be a term given to art films that had absolutely no narrative, such as Stan Brakhage's (thrilling) short film, Mothlight, which just consists of the detached wings of moths that appear as a series of consecutive images, each lasting only lasting for a few milliseconds. As film evolved as an art form and these art films and conventional narrative films became closer and closer to each other, they eventually merged, with feature films of this style beginning to be made more frequently around the 1950s. From this, filmmakers such as Vêra Chytilová, Ingmar Bergman and Andy Warhol started working to create some of their most expressionistic and 'weird' work.
That doesn't really explain it though... Quoting Twin Peaks's Gordon Cole (played by David Lynch and pictured at the top of this post and not at all talking about the same subject, but the quote was there and I wanted to use it) experimental film is "really weird stuff." More specifically, I personally think it can be divided into two categories: theoretical experimentalism and practical experimentalism. This is just my way of looking at it and I'm sure there are people who would argue strongly against this analogy, but, for the sake of simplicity, I think it works quite well!
The most common type of experimental films today is the films that experiment with narrative, the writing of a screenplay, the theoretical aspect of creating a film. This means films that strongly abandon the conventions of narrative, such as logic, linear chronology and realism (or any degree thereof) for examples, Charlie Kaufman's i'm thinking of ending things has a highly experimental narrative, telling its story with a seemingly no care for chronological order. It also has characters names change between pages and their ages doing the same, once or twice, even their faces. It also chooses not to explain any of this - the most important aspect of experimental films. If a film explains or has an obvious reason for conveying a set of ideas or a story to an audience, it probably isn't experimental. Films such as 2001: A Space Odyssey or The Double Life of Veronique could be considered experimental because they both feature plot points that defy logic, employing dream-logic to tell the story, needing the viewer to just accept what is happening on screen. That is the most important thing you should take from this post: just accept.
The other category of experimental films is practical, the action of making a film with unconventional techniques of direction, editing or cinematography. Whilst it is more uncommon to find a film that fits into this category and not the other category, there are still plenty of films that could fit the bill. Films of this category will often have very distinctly different sound designs, such as the extremely unsettling sounds heard almost constantly in Eraserhead. Similarly, they could look extremely different, like Chytilová's Daisies (pictured above). Saying this, and this is where it gets slightly complex, not all films that do things differently could be considered experimental. 2011's The Artist is a mostly silent film, in the style of those before 'talkies'. The decision to use no diegetic sound for a big portion of the film is extremely unusual in today's world, however, it isn't experimental in the same way other films are experimental. Similarly, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which is renowned for its practical effects and filmmaking techniques, which are very uncommon in the industry, and well known for its very patchwork narrative, probably can't be classed as classically experimental because there are reasons for the narrative being 'wobbly' and the special effects don't create anything wildly different from what is considered the norm, just a difference that makes it stand out.
Why Do People Like These Films?
Some of you are now probably thinking something along the lines of 'well, why do you like films that do things differently, isn't it just being weird for the sake of being weird?' In answer to the latter question, often, yes, it is. Not always, but the weirdness is a massive standout feature for me; it's refreshing, it's new.
We live in a world where mainstream cinema can be pretty accurately predicted before the trailer has even been seen. The Marvel Cinematic Universe, DC, Pixar, even directors like Scorsese, Tarantino, Nolan and Fincher manage to pump out films that just seem like they are made from the same packs, albeit assembled with their unique styles and genre conventions, but it still becomes repetitive and sometimes awfully stagnant to go and see a white man with special powers defeat a CGI villain or to see yet another gimmick Mr Nolan can pull off with time, inevitably causing teenage boys everywhere to take to Twitter proclaiming the second coming has happened. Even lots of independent films fit into certain clichés. Certainly not nearly as many as the mainstream films do, but often they can end up being extremely similar. Experimental film completely disregards the templates. Experimental films are always like wading into the freezing waves of the murky ocean. You never know what to expect and it is always bracingly refreshing, the films that experiment with narrative especially so. David Lynch is my favourite director because of his ability to subvert expectation, ironically making all of his audience expect the unexpected (to which he usually responds with something completely left-field (like not making a film for fifteen years...)) Going into one of Lynch's films becomes such an incredible experience because you know that he is going to do what he wants and tell a story with the devices he wants to tell it with. Mulholland Drive is, in my opinion, one of the greatest films ever produced, due to its utilisation of dream-logic to present the audience with the components of something that they can turn into whatever they want. I love to be challenged by what I am watching. I love to have to think about a film for hours afterwards. Having a film burrow into the deepest depths of your mind and stay there for days is an incredible experience. Whilst you may be a massive fan of Scorsese or Tarantino and Taxi Driver or Reservoir Dogs could have stayed with you for days, however, you most likely knew what had happened. As much as I enjoy those films, they are, to me, just stories. They don't mean much, they don't say an awful lot, especially the latter, not nearly as much as Aronofsky's Pi or Bergman's Persona say. Pi and Persona are both films that hold back with their story, they're almost flattering as they give nothing to the audience to work with. Both also feel like such personal films, due to their disregard for the audience. They are films that have been made by someone, you just happen to be watching them, what you want to take may be entirely different from the interpretations that the filmmakers had whilst making them. Taxi Driver and Reservoir Dogs present two narratives, many clear plot points that just flow simply, telling a story that will be interpreted in exactly the same way every time (in terms of plot) it just isn't nearly as much fun.
Experimental films often have so many meanings, so many interpretations attached to them, part of the fun of them is talking with others about what you think happened, why you think those things happened and what meaning a film may have. Take 'i'm thinking of ending things', it's a film that I believe is about coming to terms with death and the loss of vitality, whilst others believe it to be a metaphor for depression and anxiety (it's not a wildly happy film...) Neither I nor those other people are inherently right, neither are we inherently wrong. When it comes to a film made up of abstract presentations of ideas that are never explicitly explained or categorised, right and wrong are constructs that you can throw out the window quicker than you can say Synecdoche, New York. There's such a beauty in a film made in that way. I have endless admiration for people who make films in the way they see fit because that is how they want to tell their story because it then not only becomes their story but thousands of other stories, endless possibilities that are all valid.
Why are These Films so Important?
Experimental cinema is so important mainly for the reasons I listed above; they are opportunities for people to tell stories in their own way, they are opportunities for people to break conventions and to explore ideas and themes without fear of harsh critical judgement on the quality of a story or the ideologies within that story. Of course, it does not provide an escape route for atrocities or for genuinely bad beliefs and actions (see the absolutely incredible but horribly tarnished Upstream Color) but it can be a way for people to be critical or to intentionally and/or ironically walk the fine line between explorative and taboo.
Experimental films have been the building blocks of so many careers that are now treated as some of the best around, especially in the circles of independent films. Yorgos Lanthimos, who directed 2018's The Favourite built his career on films such as The Lobster, which had elements of the surreal and dream-logic at its centre, as well as Dogtooth, which is even more surreal and operates on its own terms. Darren Aronofsky, who now makes pretty much exclusively mainstream films, debuted with Pi, a film shot entirely on high-contrast black and white reversal film at an amazingly small cost, featuring so much that is unexplained and left open for interpretation. I may as well mention Eraserhead, which launched one of the industry's most successful and acclaimed careers at rocket speed.
Without experimental films, I would argue that there would be no Christopher Nolan. Memento, Inception, Tenet, all memories existing in a parallel dimension. Experimental film lead the way for weirdness, it set up surreality and taught audiences to interpret films differently. 2001: A Space Odyssey is often cited as one of the most important films in history due to how it reshaped cinema, both practically and theoretically. Never before had anything like the monolith or the embryo been seen before, they were groundbreaking ideas that inspired and continue to inspire filmmakers professional and non-professional. Those images are proof that you can do anything with film.
If you have never seen an experimental film, you could be missing out on your new favourite film style. Not only this, but experimental films can do so much for you. So much. Before I really got into experimental films, I wasn't nearly as creative as I am now, Mulholland Drive, which, I'm sure you can tell, is a film that has a special place in my heart because it showed me an entirely new way of telling a story. The film opened my eyes to new ways of filming subjects and new ways of conveying stories. There was no real need to fill a film with exposition and clunky dialogue, you could throw it out and let the subconscious do its work: mind over chatter, if you will...
Please, take me seriously when I make the bold statement that experimental films changed my life. They opened my eyes to so many creative ways of thinking that I now take as golden rules, even as mottos. I really think at least one person reading this will have the same experience. It could be you! In light of this, I thought I'd recommend the best places to start with experimental cinema. None of these films are the really wild ones that are like an assault on the senses, they are three films that I reckon could easily convert you.
- Mulholland Drive (Lynch, 2001)
- i'm thinking of ending things (Kaufman, 2020) (a Netflix original!)
- Persona (Bergman, 1966)
These are, for the most part, exclusively experimental with narrative (practical experimental is an acquired taste, I didn't want you to have a baptism of fire with Daisies) so they will offer unique experiences, but won't be too much of a stretch from normal viewing.
I really hope you enjoyed this post and I hope you do go and seek out these films. I'd love to know what you thought of the films too, I'm always happy to talk weird stuff! Until next time, reader!
- Jay
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