Author: Rahul Malevar

  • Universe in a Grain of Sand

    I did not expect to enjoy this film as much as I did. At first, I went in skeptical, but the more I watched, the more I was drawn in. Learning that the director had a background in physics definitely helped in giving me an extra layer of trust in the script, helping me be confident that the film was grounded in real thought.

    What stood out the most was the way that art was used to explore scientific ideas. The artwork wasn’t there for aesthetics but was part of the storytelling, a way to create tension and curiosity. This mix of art and science, and the film, really comes to life and makes me think of experimenting with how to see knowledge.

    Another thing I loved about it was that it took four years to make. That choice paid off because it allowed the story to capture the evolution of quantum computing from abstract ideas to the actual development of these computers in 2024. While the technology isn’t ready for everyday use, the film highlighted something about how creativity and imagination, even through art and nature, can inspire innovation and help us grasp concepts that might be impossible to think of out of the blue.

    In the end, I was pleasantly surprised by how seamlessly the film bridged these worlds. Science doesn’t only advance in labs and equations, but grows through the world around you and human imagination.

  • Art of Looking

    When I watched Portrait of a Lady on Fire, I felt the film’s intensity, but I didn’t fully understand how Céline Sciamma managed to create so much tension with so “little” happening on the screen. Then I came across this video by lessons from the screenplay that breaks down one of the scenes, and it made me understand how every little detail was used to create this tension. The video essay argues that the power of the scene lies in the deliberate use of camera framing, blocking, pacing, and silence.

    Initially, Marianne is framed as the observer, hiding behind her canvas, while Heloise sits exposed.

    Sciamma makes a deliberate choice when Heloise challenges the dynamic, having Marianne go to hear in five steps, and in the director’s words, six steps would feel complete, but five steps feel as if there is still a question in the air, so the viewer is left wondering if the next step will be the kiss or not.

    As Heloise challenges that dynamic, making Marianne understand that they are in the same place, Marianne flees the frame back to the safety behind her canvas. But now, the camera slowly pushes in on Heloise, enlarging her presence in the frame until she is framed as Marianne was at the start of the scene, and Marianne is reframed from Hélène’s point of view with an even wider frame, with their power dynamics completely reversed.

    I appreciate how the video connects these techniques back to the film’s broader themes. The scene is more about than who has the upper hand, but dismantling the idea of power to dominate, instead creating equality between the two.

    The only limitation I found is that the video focuses very narrowly on one scene, which does make the analysis for that scene very rich, but it doesn’t cover how the film’s overall painterly look and candlelit lighting contribute to the same themes. However, it further emphasized that Portrait of a Lady on Fire is not just a story of romance, but also of how cinematic choices can convey love, gaze, and equality, even without a score.

  • Behind the Scenes – Grand Budapest Hotel

    (39) Backstage for ” Grand Hotel Budapest” – YouTube

    While at first watch, the Grand Budapest Hotel looks like an almost fairy tale production, I came across this behind-the-scenes video that shows how resourceful Anderson’s team was during filming. The video reveals explicitly how the train sequences were staged, not with a complete train set, digital effects, or even a train cart, but instead with a simple hand-pushed trolley. With camera framing, later editing, and the seamless integration of different cuts, the filmmakers created the impression of a real moving train, despite the very minimal physical setup.

    What really blew my mind when I came across this was that it shows how budget limitations and stylistic choices can go hand in hand. I believe that Anderson spent $25 million on this film, and when you have these multi-million dollar films that love CGI, or a Christopher Nolan film where he crashes a real Boeing 747, Anderson somehow uses this innovative practical effect that not only saved money, but preserved his aesthetic, showing that sometimes “cheap” methods are actually the most artful.

    Sadly, the video does not analyse why Anderson prefers these practical solutions, and without content, it could seem like a random trick to save money. However, when paired with other readings that explore Anderson’s aesthetics and examine how he achieves such a distinct look by embracing miniatures, models, and old-school effects, this clip reinforces the team’s creative problem-solving and ingenuity.

    Adam Stockhausen on Creating the Vibrant World of The Grand Budapest Hotel

    It is not an isolated trick, and in an interview with KCRW, production designer Adam Stockhausen explains how the team consistently relied on practical thinking to build the fictional country. The hotel interior was an abandoned department store in Görlitz, Germany, for both the 1930s and 1960s versions. Stockhausen also mentioned that a lot of the backgrounds were painted skies or miniatures rather than digital effects, and the baker for Mendel’s pastry boxes was actually a local from Görlitz. When paired with the behind-the-scenes video of the train being nothing more than a hand-pushed trolley, Stockhausen’s interview not only further pushes the budget-conscious choices, but manages to give context that makes it almost inseparable from Anderson’s aesthetic, almost in a way that this fairy-tale world would not be as beautiful, unless approached from this way.

    It also made me appreciate the film even more when I started to understand its inner workings.