This week’s reading emphasized how editing shapes a film by manipulating the elements of time, space, and emotion through the arrangement of shots. Chapter 6 taught us the four relations that link one shot to the next (graphic, rhythmic, spatial, and temporal) and showed how these relations typically work to create continuity.
Continuity is often treated as the “correct” outcome of editing. Breaks in continuity are usually labeled as mistakes because filmmakers are expected to maintain details and screen direction consistently so that the story feels seamless and believable. A film that is seamless is said to allow its viewers to follow the story and connect emotionally without distraction. This week’s feature, Douglas Sirk’s All That Heaven Allows, is a strong example of this system at work, using techniques like dissolves and fade-ins to maintain clarity and flow. While there are many examples of continuity, I wanted to explore the other techniques, such as the purpose of non-continuity, focusing on whether it could create the same emotional connection that continuity does.
Although continuity rules mainstream cinema, many filmmakers decide to break continuity intentionally to serve meaning and express a certain mood. I came across this video by Thomas Flight, which explores how non-continuity can be as expressive as continuity itself.
Flight argues that what looks like a “mistake” may actually highlight emotional intensity, realism, or psychological conflict. He explains how, in these moments, filmmakers sacrifice seamlessness to convey something more powerful.
One example he mentions comes from The Bear. In a scene where Carmy is lost in the chaos of a high-pressure kitchen, the image suddenly cuts to a close-up of a small pilot flame, overlaid with the smiling face of his ex-girlfriend Claire. The shot disrupts continuity, but it visualizes Carmy’s inner turmoil. The flame embodies the heat and pressure of his career, while Claire represents the happiness he feels he has lost. This moment, brought by breaking continuity, deepens the audience’s understanding of his conflict more than a “seamless” edit could.
(I included a screen recording of the scene since I could not find the clip on YouTube )
My takeaway is that breaking continuity is not always an error, it is also a way for filmmakers to use editing to show emotions and guide the interpretation of a story. Therefore, the next time you spot a “mistake,” ask yourself if it was purposefully placed into the film to convey/explain a certain emotion.
While watching All that Heaven Allows (1955), I kept thinking about how it was supposed to be a “bad movie”. It is a “weepie”, it is unserious, it is “trash” (as director Sirk would positively call it later). I was so interested in the Sirk quote we looked at together—about crazy trash being much closer to high art than we’d like to think—that I went looking for more of his interviews.
This interview, while not directly concerning All that Heaven Allows, is very much a commentary on it, and Sirk’s other “bad films”. He rebukes this “bad” claim, offering his own set of criteria as to what makes a film good or bad: it must have imagination, must be interesting, must have a theme, must be consistent, and must trust the audience just enough (which is to say, not at all).
What I like the most about this clip, and his criteria, are how they end. Sirk moves from talking about imagination—that every film must have one, that a film without one is a waste, or not even a true film (piece of art) at all—to talking about why he makes “bad movies”. According to him, he makes “preaching” movies: the antithesis of bad.
”The moment you stop preaching in a film, the moment you want to teach your audience, you’re making a bad film.”
Sirk seems, here, to be eschewing the concept of subtlety in film, and based on All that Heaven Allows, it seems that he followed that command. Whether it is the treacherousness and turn-facedness of the children, the incessant nature of the friends, or the unending charm of Mr. Kirby, nothing in AtHA is subtle. Every emotion and character is a metaphorical brick to the face of whatever emotion Sirk wants you to feel. It calls back to something else he said in the interview
“[A movie] should have its own kind of finish, its own kind of theme”.
All that Heaven Allows has finish. It has a theme. And it’s certainly enjoyable to watch. In the wake of AtHA, can we really deny Sirk’s definition of good and bad? And if we enjoy AtHA, why would we?
As a viewer, I noticed that Cary’s emotions would often be expressed through the colors on screen. When things were romantically well and hopeful between her and Ron, the world seemed warmer and brighter (almost glowing). But when they had conflict and Cary herself had inner conflict, the color scheme would turn cold and shadowy.
The window is continually used to express Cary’s trapped feelings; she is always separated from what she really wants by glass. It is like she is watching her own life from the outside; she is so caught up in worrying about how her neighbors and her family will see and think about her (trying to keep everyone else happy), that she can not fully live in the moment. She is not able to express how she really feels because her life is being framed like a window. The windows are often depicted as frosted, suggesting her struggle to break free from the life she has always known.
The scene with the rainbow of colors shining through the window is very interesting. In that scene, Cary is listening to her daughter, trying to take in someone else’s view of her relationship with Ron. The rainbow lighting is symbolic; it is showing just how many conflicting feelings and perspectives Cary is experiencing all at once.
When Cary looks at the empty landscape outside the window, it seems to reflect her isolation and longing for connection. When the film changes to winter, the snow also seems to reflect her loneliness after she loses Ron. However, in the last scene, even though Ron is hurt, the color scheme became brighter (and maybe even more dream-like), and a deer appeared, which seems to symbolize hope.
Questions to consider:
Did you notice any other recurring objects or symbols besides windows and snow that seemed important?
How did you interpret the use of color changes throughout the film? Did any moment stand out to you visually?
This video essay serves as an excellent lesson on how not to edit a scene, and in doing so highlights the mistakes you should avoid. The creator, Thomas Flight, breaks down the editing of a dialogue sequence from the movie Bohemian Rhapsody.
The three key mistakes Thomas points out in this scene are:
Lack of motivation
Broken spatial continuity
Poor pacing
Lack of Motivation: Thomas shows that many of the cuts in this sequence lack motivation, since they don’t provide new information. Instead, we see the same reactions or actions repeated, which makes the cuts feel redundant and unnecessary.
Broken Spatial Continuity: This scene makes clear how crucial spatial continuity is. Thomas demonstrates this with the example of inconsistent eye lines: characters often look in the wrong direction, or appear to be looking at one person while the next shot reveals someone completely different. He also demonstrates how rearranging or simplifying the sequence of shots can create better spatial continuity.
Poor Pacing: The scene is 104 seconds long and contains 60 cuts, resulting in an average shot length of just 1.8 seconds. For comparison, an action scene from a Transformers – The last Knight is 136 seconds long with 49 cuts, concluding to an average shot length of 2.8 seconds. Therefore, Thomas shows that the pacing of this normal dialouge scene is way to quick, making it feel unnatural and rushed.
The irony is that Bohemian Rhapsody actually won the Oscar for Best Editing. As this video essay illustrates, awards don’t always reflect quality in filmmaking.
All That Heaven Allows tells the forbidden love story of the older woman, Cary, and the younger man, Ron. This story is about an age gap and a social class gap as well. Rumors are spread quickly about their atypical interests in each other.
The director chooses to move us very quickly through this story. Many dissolves, fade-ins, and fade-outs transition us between places and the months. We begin in the fall, and by the end of the movie, they are reunited in the winter. The question I pose is, because of the continuity of months that passed, did the movie rush the film? Though we know months have passed due to the mise-en-scene, they are dressed in warmer clothes, the snow has packed, and she picks out a tree to take home and decorate, even presents are being received as her children return home.
When it comes to their love, did we, as watchers, have enough time to fall in love with them just as fast as they did? Do you think this editing choice was done on purpose? Does it move the story along smoothly enough for us to know it’s been months, but also feel the growth between their relationship and the distance when they reunite?
I found an article from Film Comment called “Queer & Now & Then: 1955,” which examines All That Heaven Allows through a queer lens. It connects Rock Hudson’s closeted identity to the film’s themes of secrecy and social judgment, showing how later knowledge about Hudson reshapes the way we watch the movie. I think this perspective is valuable because it reveals how films can carry meanings beyond what their original audiences saw, especially when stars’ private lives come to light. The article is convincing because the movie already emphasizes the tension between private desire and public appearance, so Hudson’s real-life story deepens that theme. I appreciate reading a perspective that blends film history with cultural reinterpretation, making us see the film as more than just an exaggerated melodrama.
What do you think about Cary and Ron’s struggle against social expectations being read as a metaphor for queer relationships hidden in the 1950s?
All That Heaven Allows is a melodrama and in Britannica’s definition: “a sentimental drama with an improbable plot that concerns the virtuous suffered by the villainous but ends happily triumphant.” Although All That Heaven Allows has certain melodramatic elements, the plot is far from improbable and instead concerns many women of the time and today in its critique of patriarchal and heteronormative society.
Cary’s love for Ron is not only a romantic love, but can also be interpreted as the desire for autonomy in the surburban expectations that defines her worth through marriage and motherhood. Most of the discussion involving Cary from other characters has to do with her marriage or asking how her kids are, with the former even becoming the talk of the town after she defies expectations to marry within her class or age. This desire is condemned, with her kids accusing her of selfishness and shallowness, as they suspect her to see Ron as a “set of muscles.”
The toxicity of the male-centered high society is most exemplified in Howard’s multiple assaults of Cary, as he forcefully kisses her twice while being married. Cary’s first assault was brushed under the rug as she “pretends it never happened” to avoid causing a stir- and likely because most would not be on her side. This is proved in Cary’s second assault, as most people were concerned with the way Ron protected Cary rather than Howard, the actual assailant. Cary is expected to deal with a terrifying and humiliating situation in a demure fashion.
Although I found many of the romantic parts pretty corny, I can appreciate the deeper themes of female isolation and societal expectations just below the glossy Hollywood romance surface. However, one critique that I do have for the feminist interpretation of this movie is that although it delves into the struggles of womanhood in surburban America, the solution to Cary’s problems is still a man.
This movie almost completely fails the Bechdel test, as almost all the substantial conversations in the movie either involve a man, or are two women talking about men or theories about men. (Though surprisingly, Mona’s conversation topics with Cary don’t involve men) Even though there are many interesting female characters in this movie, somehow the interactions between them almost always evolve into talking and contemplating about men. In the picture above, the daughter Kay delivers an interesting monologue about misogynistic Egyptian customs, but begins it with an even longer monologue completely focused on Harvey. Although this reflects the male-centered society that was the mid 1900’s, I wish that the female characters were able to do some introspection that didn’t have to use romance or men as a crutch.
Douglas Sirk’s All That Heaven Allows is surely a classical demonstration of continuity editing, using lots of dissolves, fade-ins, and match-on-action, etc. The techniques of shooting/editing is also our main topic for this week.
However, when I was watching the film, I cannot help myself from thinking about the mise-en-scène, particularly the symbolisms of each prop/object. There were lots of occasions when we see one’s facial features clearly but not the other one (due to lighting), when the two of them were having a conversation. Why is that? There were also different animals that appeared, including pigeon and dears. Why these animals? Mirrors also seem to be symbolic. Why did the production team make these choices?
The article talked about the scene when Cary visits Ron’s mill for the first time. As she tries to ascend the stairs, a pigeon flies out, causing her to lose balance and fall into Ron’s arms. The article claims the half-climbed steps as a common device used by Sirk. Although Cary has made the decision to walk on a path that would deviate her from her previous Bourgeois lifestyle, she is only capable of proceeding halfway into Ron’s Bohemian lifestyle. This foreshadows how she had to give up marrying Ron for consideration of her children and her community’s comments.
Ultimately though, she did fall back into Ron’s arms, in this mill which would later turn into a bedroom.
Animals
Speaking of pigeons, I was also confused of its possible symbolic meaning, as well as the deer that appeared multiple times. The article provides an insightful explanation.
On Ron’s car, there is a scene when Cary hesitates her marriage with Ron. When Ron speaks how a man has to make his own decisions, Cary responds that “And you want me to be a man”. The article claims that what might be truer to say is that Cary wants Ron to be a woman. The movie ended with a shot of Ron laying on the bed then pivoting to a deer outside the window(an animal that is associated with Ron). If the pigeon represents Ron’s challenging sexuality, then the deer implies that the male has become a “meekly submissive creature, signaling Cary’s transition from passive object to dominant subject.”
Mirror
Screenshot from the film at time 00:06:22.
In a review of All That Heaven Allows by criterion.com, All That Heaven Allows: An Articulate Screen, a specific occasion where mirror appears is discussed. This is when the audience first get introduced to the children. On the very right stands a vase containing the branches Ron cut for her earlier, where on the left we see Cary. However, between the branch and Cary intrudes the 2 children. This also acts as a foreshadow of how later in the film Kay and Ned would stand against the marriage between Cary and Ron.
Screenshot from the film at time 01:15:36.
Later when Cary and her children celebrates Christmas, Ned bought a television for Cary, with the deliveryman saying “Life’s parade at your fingertips,” but ultimately serves as the “last refuge for lonely women.”
Library of Congress Film Essay, An academic paper published by the University of Kent, commented this scene by how accurately the deliveryman’s last line captured Cary’s state of emotion as she gazes emptily at the screen. “Yet to be turned on, the machine simply mirrors her own image: a woman lost, lonely and bereft, and something beyond a technological fix.”
In conclusion, I think that the mirrors function as a reflection of the bourgeois culture. For the first mirror that got us to know Kay and Ned, the fact that Ron’s branches stood outside of the mirror’s frame tells that he is not part of the clubbing, partying culture. Having Cary emptily staring into the television screen, the film might also try to criticize the loneliness and solidarity beneath the bourgeoisie’s fancy socialization.
Chapter 6 in Film Art: An Introduction discusses editing and how the relationship between shots controls the timing and impact of the action. There are 4 dimensions of film editing: graphic relations, rhythmic relations, spatial relations, and temporal relations.
Shots can be linked via a graphic match, which entails linking shots with similar shapes, color, composition, or movement. Graphic discontinuities can be used to create contrast between shots.
The patterning of shot lengths gives the film its rhythm. Flash frames accent certain actions in a shot, giving weight to that specific action.
Editing can show where characters and objects are in a certain space. The Kuleshov effect, also called constructive editing, cuts together portions of space in a way that implies different emotions depending on what is shown. Another way to show space is analytical editing, which breaks an establishing shot into closer shots.
Editing can control the timing of an action, thus creating an order of events that affect the story, known as chronology. Flashbacks give a glimpse into the past, while flashforwards reveal future events before switching back to the present.
I recently watched Friendship (Andrew DeYoung, 2024), a black comedy about the male friendship between Craig, played by Tim Robinson, and Austin, played by Paul Rudd.
While watching, I noticed that the film makes creative use of temporal relations. In the Toad Trip scene, elliptical editing was used to show an action quicker than it would take in real life.
Craig lies down on the ground to get ready for his trip. We cut to a close up of the toad and we see Craig sit up and lick the toad. We then cut away to T-Boy, and when we cut back to Craig, we catch him at the tail end of lying back on the ground. Finally, we cut back to T-Boy, who has just finished putting the toad back in the carrier and closing the lid.
In this scene, the actions are presented on screen quicker than they would take in real life. The actions of T-Boy are implied because they are nonessential to the scene. The 180 degree rule is also in play during this scene. The camera never crosses the axis of action, and the characters are in a shot/reverse shot sequence.
Over the weekend, my friends and I piled into a car and took a 15 minute drive to AMC North Dekalb to watch “A Long Walk.” If you know anything about North Dekalb, you would know it’s a movie theater on the side of a mall that is being completely renovated and the seats are anything but modern. So as we sat down, tried to get comfortable, and the opening ads all had us thinking we were in for a horror movie, I was surprised to leave that theater with a soaking wet face and red eyes. As we as a society continue marching towards a future that is remise of 75 years ago, movies like this feel like a wake up call. As this review continues, I will try to not give a lot of spoilers, but to properly discuss it I need to talk about some important scenes within it. So this is your warning!
This movie was jarring, for a bit of context- this movie follows a group of 50 men who were chosen to participate in “The Long Walk,” which is a government competition where you have to walk until only 1 person remains, either you die of natural causes or they kill you for going below the set pace or stepping out of the boundaries, and when you win, you get more riches than you can imagine and one golden wish. A Long Walk is a political wake up call, the movie does not show the title card until almost 10 minutes into the movie. It follows the first death, an 18 year old boy who caught a cramp while walking, even though people tried to help him keep walking, we get an utterly graphic image of him as he drops to his knees and the guards who walk with them, literally blow his face off with a carbine rifle. Some contestants looked happy because their odds went up, others looked mortified knowing they could face the same fate.
This scene sets the tone for the movie, this is not something they all will walk away from, 1 person will end this bearing the weight of having to watch 49 other men go through the hardest moments of their lives before, and they did this with everyone, getting shot in the head. As the movie progresses, Ray begins talking negatively about the whole competition, people yell at him to be quiet, waring him that talking negatively about the system will get him murdered. Free speech is a thing of the past here, they are cattle being controlled.
This idea of the civilians in this movie being cattle is a main theme, the guards follow them on this walk as if they are herding dogs. They keep them in line, and punish them for going out of line. They wear number tags and are referred to only as their number. In a flashback, we see Ray and his family stepping outside their home and being faced with what looks like a 50ft tall metal wall, an enclosure. My first thought was what this scene looked like zoomed out, and the main image was a rat maze.
Along with this, the language they use in this movie is as if they aren’t people at all. They warn other people to stay on pace so they don’t get their “ticket.” In a flash back we hear an executor say that because a person was going against the state by speaking negatively about it, they will face “deactivation.”
This movie continued to feel like a fierce political commentary as despite being warned for denouncing the competition and speaking poorly about the Major, we get a scene of Ray screaming “Fuck the long walk! Fuck the major!” As he does this, other people slowly join in, we get scenes of “tougher” characters having faint smiles creep onto their faces before joining in and for the first time in this movie, we hear music. One of the 50 men, holds his little pocket radio up to the sky and we hear this electric music erupt from it as they chant and cheer. The camera pans out, and the feeling of them being revolutionaries filled the theater, but if you look closely you’ll realize despite this feeling, they are still just men, in the system, doing exactly what they want, with guards who have their guns pointed right at them. Have they really broken free of anything? It raises this amazing question of if we protest, are we doing anything at all or are we still just within their system, doing what they expect us to do as they continue controlling us?
As they continue marching on, they talk more and more and we get a glimpse into their reality outside of this competition. This country is completely unstable, economically depressed, heavily surveyed, and controlled. Despite this world they are in feeling so different than how we live now, it feels like the film makers are giving us a warning, that if we continue trying to reduce free speech and are okay with giving away our freedoms, this impossible reality will become possible. This movie ends with 2 people in tears, this brotherhood they have built the entire movie is forcibly going to have to end. They walk as they approach a crowd of spectators, all of them anticipating that one of them will stop soon. One does, and as he is brutally executed 5ft away from all these people, the spectators cheer and fireworks go off, as our winner is on his knees sobbing. “A Long Walk” is a really engaging and well done commentary on patriotism, how governments control us, and how empathy is becoming a thing of the past. It reminds us to continue fighting for our freedoms, to speak up even when things feel hard, and above all, to lead with love and not forget the things that bind us all together. We are one people, on the same journey of life.
