Expressive movement unit 1

Metadata

This segment establishes a connection between a short stage of vehement mobility in the character choreography and the unmoving pole of impetus—the airplane—the exact function of which remains unknown.

The darkness and the noises highlighted within the silence give the individual actions a sense of urgency. In the first shot, the pans that follow the Sergeant from right to left and back to right stress a dynamic change in which all characters are mobilized and moved from their positions. At the same time these movements and everyone’s attention focus on an unnamed center.  This unnamed center is located at the back of the frame at the point from which the Sergeant emerged. It is circled by Dane’s movements and by the camera and finally he returns to it with Feingold and the dynamite.

A slow fade leads from the space of the dynamic change in the situation to the unmoving pole which gave the impulse for the preceding movements. The silence is intensified by the two figures‘ slow movements, stressed by their carefulness. The cut to the interior of the airplane increases the ambivalence between the starting of the movement and its goal, which is not communicated (“I can’t let you do this”), the static of the first prolonged shot of the cockpit is in clear contrast to the movement in the first shot. The shadow covering the uneasy Sergeant also contrasts with the unreal brightness on the face of the Lieutenant, who gazes off screen or, when he turns, is lost in shadow. A dark diagonal bar through the frame mirrors the categorical separation between the two. The length of the dialogue and of the pauses stages the process of creating understanding between the characters.

The slow and exaggerated care with which the Sergeant loads the dynamite into the airplane makes their weight and the fear of their power visible as a physical action, and indirectly also the Sergeant’s respect for the Lieutenant’s plan. On the level of sound design, at exactly this moment pounding can be heard that is identified as the sounds of the Japanese working, but which produces, in particular because of its quality—the light taps of the hammering, the extreme irregularity—a sense of urgency about the time being lost. The wordless parting of Lieutenant and Sergeant at the end again stresses the silence surrounding the plan.