The RIver, the Desert and the Mountains. The Narrative Functions of Landscape in Cinema.

THE RIVER,

THE DESERT,

AND THE MOUNTAINS

The Narrative Function of Landscape

in Cinema

Johanna Fuhler

MA Film Studies – professionals’ track

University of Amsterdam

May 2, 2016

Supervisor: Floris Paalman

CONTENTS

Preface 2

1 Using Landscape to Tell a Story 3

1.1 Narrative and Film 6

1.2 Cinematic Landscape 11

1.2.1 Functions of Landscape in Film 16

1.2.2 Categorisation of Functions of Cinematic Landscape 22 1.3 Corpus 25 1.4 Method 27 2 Analyses 30 2.1 Mud 32 2.1.1 Synopsis 32 2.1.2 Segmentation 33

2.1.3 Turning Points and Landscape 34

2.2 No Country For Old Men 37

2.2.1 Synopsis 37

2.2.2 Segmentation 38

2.2.3 Turning Points and Landscape 39

2.3 Brokeback Mountain 41

2.3.1 Synopsis 41

2.3.2 Segmentation 42

2.3.3 Turning Points and Landscape 43

2.4 Comparison 45

3 Conclusion 48

Preface

My interest in film started at an early age, watching many films at home with my family. The fascination with the process behind the screen came into being when I watched the making-of material that accompanied the extended version of the Lord of the Rings-trilogy. Eventually these films became the subject of my first ever paper. It then does not come as a surprise that when I had to choose Master’s programme, I chose the

professionals’ track of the MA Film Studies at the UvA. This programme gave me the opportunity to combine the academic approach of film with the experience of being part of the filmmaking process myself. I hope this thesis represents the way I prefer to study film: from a critical perspective, but always with the film itself at a short distance.

I would like to thank my mum for always being there when I needed a second opinion. And I would particularly like to thank my mentor Floris Paalman for his enduring

patience and comprehensive criticism on my earlier drafts. Without his commentary and advice the writing of this thesis would not have been possible.

1. Using Landscape to Tell a Story

The way fictional films tell stories is something that has been subject of extensive

academic discussion. Film scholars such as David Bordwell, Edward Branigan and Kristin Thompson have discussed how a film enables the spectator to understand the story. Their cognitive theories are very influential within film studies, in part because it is an approach that can be applied to all kinds of films. The three main elements of narrative according to these scholars are causality, time and space. It is on the latter that this thesis will focus, and a specific kind of space in particular: the natural landscape. There are certain films that emphasise the visual and narrational quality of the landscape. The beauty and overwhelming presence of the natural environment leads the spectator away from the characters and the action to consider the landscape in itself. In his article “On Landscape in Narrative Cinema” film scholar Martin Lefebvre sets out different possibilities of analysis of cinematic landscape. The difficulty of this discussion lies partly in the fact that showing natural scenery does not necessarily mean showing landscape (Lefebvre, 62). According to Lefebvre, there is a difference between nature functioning as setting or landscape: is the natural environment functioning as arena for the action to take place in, or is nature something to be considered in its own right? Lefebvre even goes as far as to suggest that landscape in film might not even be possible, because strictly speaking, a natural space providing a setting for the narrative cannot be considered a landscape (64). Showing of a landscape would mean that the spectator is lifted out of the flow of the story, to give attention to the landscape itself, a situation that Lefebvre calls “arrested pictorialness” (71). However, he also suggests that this kind of visual spectacle has always been part of cinema’s attractions (Lefebvre, 65). The natural scenery can thus ‘escape’ the power of the narrative, and give the spectator a

contemplative moment to consider the landscape. On the other hand, the fact that the landscape is shown in relation to the narrative makes that the spectator gets involved with this landscape. In short, landscape in narrative film has a narrative function, even though there is some tension in the relation between the natural landscape and the narrative. I will come back to this issue later. First it is important to point out that, even though landscape might function narratively, the different ways in which this space can have a narrative function in film is less clear.

This is the point where this thesis wants to contribute to existing theory on cinematic landscape. Lefebvre’s article is a good starting point, but his goal is to show that there are different ways of approaching landscape in cinema. He argues convincingly that cinematic landscape has a narrative function, but he does not go into the specifics. If we want to understand how landscape can contribute to narrative (or how landscape can have a narrative function), it makes sense to look into film theory regarding the question of how a film is understood by its spectators. In their discussion of the relation between space and narrative, however, neither Bordwell, nor Branigan or Thompson discuss the landscape. A starting point of categorising the different functions of cinematic landscape can be found in the field of film geography. Chris Lukinbeal distinguishes different functions of landscape in cinema in his article “Cinematic Landscapes” (2005). According to Lukinbeal, landscape can function in four ways in narrative cinema: landscape as space, place, spectacle and/or metaphor (5). In short, when landscape is functioning as space, it is merely an arena for the story to take place in. Landscape as place is more specific, because the spectator is now told where we are in the story. Landscape functions as spectacle when it attracts attention to itself and the metaphorical use of landscape is apparent when the landscape adds an extra layer of symbolical meaning to the narrative. These functions all establish a relation between the landscape and the narrative, although some functions are more tightly bound to the story than others.

Lukinbeal’s four functions are a good start of categorising cinematic landscape, but I think that these four categories are insufficient in describing the ways in which landscape functions narratively. Landscape provides the spectator with a sense of place, space and time; it can break the flow of the narrative, but also intensify it; landscape can contribute to the visual quality and attractiveness of the film; landscape can point to a different approach to the reading of film; it can convey a symbolical or cultural meaning; it can reflect on a character’s psychology. These are just some examples of the way in which a landscape can have meaning in a film. Some functions might relate stronger to the narrative than others, or the same landscape can function in different ways at the same time. It is the way in which this reflects on the narrative, and thus on how the spectator understands the film, that is of interest to me. The central question of this thesis therefore is: How can the ways in which cinematic landscape functions narratively be distinguished and categorised?

After discussing the cognitive theory about narrative on the basis of the writings of Bordwell, Branigan and Thompson, this thesis will first go into the concept of landscape itself and the theoretical issues that arise when analysing cinematic landscape. A

generally accepted definition of landscape is lacking; every scholar seems to hold his or her own definition of the concept. I will discuss already existing categories of cinematic landscape, based on the writings of Lukinbeal, among others. This will result in my own categorisation of narrative functions of cinematic landscape. I will then argue that the cognitive function of cinematic space is something that is addressed in film theory, but the representational function in relation to the narrative is something that is

underexposed. Both kinds of cinematic space are important in storytelling, and the visual quality and the resulting narrational presence of landscape in film is something that deserves further research. Analysis of the following three films will put my

categorisation to practice: Brokeback Mountain (Ang Lee, 2005), Mud (Jeff Nichols, 2012) and No Country for Old Men (Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007). I chose these films mainly because of the significant presence of natural and authentic landscapes in the film: the natural environment is important in these films, as is evident from the titles. At the basis of the analysis of these films is the cognitive bull’s-eye schema, first coined by David Bordwell in his book Making Meaning. Inferences and Rhetoric in the Interpretation of Cinema (1989). This schema clarifies that there are different ways in which mise-en-scene – and landscape is part of the mise-en-scene – can be studied: taking the characters as starting point, and relate these to the setting and the film discourse, or work the other way around. This thesis will take the three layers of this schema into account, but will take the landscape (as part of the setting) as starting point, and relate this to both the characters and to the film’s discourse. In the actual analyses of the films, this results in a comparison between three scenes/sequences from each film. These scenes are important turning points in the narrative, and I will analyse the way in which the landscape contributes to the story in these specific moments. With this approach I want to give more insight in the different narrative functions of landscape in cinema.

1.1 Narrative and Film

The relation between narrative and film is a subject that has been discussed thoroughly throughout film theory. Three important scholars in this area are Edward Branigan, Kristin Thompson and David Bordwell. They write about how a film uses narration to tell its story and how this enables the spectator to construct a narrative when watching a film. I will discuss cognitive theory before going into the specific theory about narrative and landscape. The classic narration theories of Branigan, Thompson and Bordwell are namely not focused on landscape at all. They might mention it as part of the setting, but they do not go into the narrative meaning of this landscape. However, their narrational theory is important for this thesis, since I want to discuss the narrational function of cinematic landscape. By first discussing the more classical readings of narrative, and then link this with the specific theory about landscape, this thesis would like to propose a theoretical framework with regards to the role of landscape in the narration of a fiction film.

The significance of narrative in our daily lives is made clear by Edward Branigan at the start of his book Narrative Comprehension and Film (1992). He writes that making narratives ‘is a fundamental way of organizing data’ (1). Narratives are of vital

importance for us to make sense of the world (of data) around us. Furthermore, ‘narrative is a perceptual activity that organizes data into a special pattern which represents and explains experience’ (Branigan, 3). Narration in the broadest sense, according to Branigan, can than be defined as ‘the overall regulation and distribution of knowledge which determines how and when the spectator acquires knowledge, that is, how the spectator is able to know what he or she comes to know in a narrative’ (76). In film, it could be said that this narrative pattern is ‘a chain of events linked by cause and effect and occurring in time and space’ (Bordwell & Thompson, 73). Generally speaking, a narrative is about one or two protagonists with a goal. This goal is not reached easily: the protagonist finds opposition (which can take all kinds of forms) on the way, which results in dramatic conflict. For the protagonist to reach the goal, often something has to change – whether it is the character itself, or the situation. A general structure of

narrative can therefore be described as one situation changing into another, due to character action. For Branigan, narrative is both a product of storytelling

therefore refer to something that is used to create a story as well as to the product of this story.

This view of narrative is well applicable to the writings of Kristin Thompson on narrative and film. In her book Storytelling in Film and Television (2003) she gives an overview of the narration in classical Hollywood films. She writes both about the story that is presented in the film and how the film enables the spectator to construct this story. She argues that linear causality is the core of classical storytelling, creating a cause-effect chain that helps the story forward (Thompson 2003, 23). Thompson does mention the concept of space a few times, but always in combination with time and causality, since these three things are what should be kept in tact to keep the viewer with the story (23). In this way she does recognise space as something of vital importance to storytelling, but it is not something she gets into herself. Branigan recognises the same three central elements of narrative as Thompson: time, causality and space. Throughout his book, Branigan’s focus lies with the characters and events and how they form a narrative. In the chapter about space (which also includes landscape, even though he does not mention it specifically), Branigan focuses on how the characters and events are situated in this space. The particular setting where this happens is not of vital

importance for understanding the story, because Branigan’s main goal in this chapter is to understand how the film enables the spectator to experience the space. The spectator creates space by contributing meaning to the relations between different shots: changes in space are apparent and need to be comprehended by the spectator in order to create a unity of space (Branigan, 43).

This assumption is at the core of the constructivist theory of film, proposed by David Bordwell in his book Narration in the Fiction Film (1985). In this book, Bordwell presents a new theory of narration, one that can be applied to all kinds of films and also deals with all narrational parts of the film (146). He calls this a constructivist theory. This is basically about how a film enables the viewer to perceive the film: according to Bordwell’s theory, the viewer makes sense of the imagespresented using schemata (100) – conventions regarding filmmaking, but also common sense about human

behaviour. Constructivist theory is about expectations: the images make the viewer draw hypotheses about what is to happen, and these prove to be right or wrong, and can be changed accordingly. The viewer is active in the process of making meaning of the film, both top-down (automatic assumptions from the perceiver) and bottom-up (visual

stimuli from the film) (Bordwell, 101). In this way, the films hands cues to the spectator, who can then turn the images from the film into a time-space unity and construct his or her own story.

Branigan also recognises a narrative schema underlying the narrative pattern in a film, but he goes further and introduces his concept of ‘levels of narration’ as an even deeper narrative schema (86). These levels are a more ‘abstract’ way to look at the structure of the story. Branigan recognises eight levels of narration: 1) the historical author, 2) extra-fictional narrator, 3) nondiegetic narrator, 4) diegetic narrator, 5) character (nonfocalised narration), 6) external focalization, 7) internal focalization (surface) and 8) internal focalization (depth). These eight levels can be divided into three groups: narration (levels 1, 2, 3 and 4, with a non/extra fictional narrator), action (level 5, with a nonfocalised character) and focalisation (levels 6, 7 and 8, with a

focalised character) (Branigan, 105). The first two levels stand ‘outside’ the film: the narrators on these levels regard the film as a historical, non-fiction text that exists in time and is made with certain skills and techniques (Branigan, 88). The setting/filmic space has no role on these levels, because the narrator is located outside the fictional world of the film. With the other levels, the narration moves into the story world (into the fiction), and the narrator is either non-diegetic or diegetic. These narrators are located in the story world, either telling about this story (nondiegetic) or in the same story as the characters depicted (diegetic) (95). The setting is more important from these levels on, because we are in the world itself; the location of the scenes plays a part in our understanding of the narrative. The narrator is telling the spectator what is happening (literally or through actions), which leaves the spectator relatively free to interpret the filmic space. So the relevance of setting/space depends on the space where the narrator is located – and that is different depending on from which level of narration you approach the scene. For example, the rules of the space of the story world do not count for a non-fictional narrator, but they do for a (non)diegetic narrator.

If we go down to level five, the character becomes the agent of narration.

Narrators tell the story to the spectator, whereas a character lives the story, and by doing so ‘tells’ it as well, but not with the intention of telling it – he is not aware of the audience in the same way the narrator is (100). The setting of the film is the character’s only space of reference. If the character narrates by living the story, Branigan calls this nonfocalised narration. However, narration can also be in the hands of a by a ‘focaliser’ – a character

that makes the spectator experience the story as if it were through the character’s eyes. If we are going with the character in the story, but still outside of the character, Branigan refers to this as externally focalised narration. If we see what the character is

experiencing privately, Branigan talks about internally focalised narration. In the broadest sense, a film is created for us by higher-level narrations (such as the extra-fictional narrator), but this does not mean that focalisation is not important for the understanding of the story (Branigan, 102). If a character is misjudged, for example, the spectator will look for an explanation to another character (focaliser) and not to a narrator. So it seems that with perception of characters, the spectator relies on other characters and their experience (focalisation) leads the spectator’s comprehension of the story.

Branigan does not explicitly discuss the relation between the different levels of narration and the setting/space, but he does remind us of an important point: a specific setting/space also comes with specific assumptions that lead to certain hypotheses about this space, depending on from which ‘level’ you approach a scene (97). Settings are partly open to interpretation, but primarily the spectator still has assumptions about the setting, and the framing, camera, action, dialogue etc., which will result in confirmation or adjustment of the hypotheses. In this way, the filmic space is always important for the understanding of narrative. Space is one of the three key elements of narrative and a filmmaker can choose to use this space with certain intentions or use it more negligent. The levels on which space seems to have the largest narrative role are the levels in which the narration is done by a narrator who is either nondiegetic, diegetic, or a nonfocalised character.These levels are located in the story world – so the narrators know the setting and have to take it into account. On the other hand, the narrators on these levels are still ‘outside’ the character, they tell the story depending on what an outsider (whether this is a random bystander or one of the characters) can experience, and not taking character experience as starting point (as do the narrators who are focalisers). So even though Branigan does not specifically discuss the concept of setting in relation to the narrative, he does give attention to the narrative role of filmic space.

Like Branigan, Bordwell dedicates a chapter of his book to the subject of space and narration. Bordwell’s treatment of space is very technical: he goes into detail about how the film presents cues for the viewer to interpret, with help of the before mentioned schemata. The interpretation of spatial representation is both top-down and bottom-up.

Important to note is that the spatial representation is never complete, but the viewer does perceive it as a whole, because we expect it to be, we are used to it, we do not need to see the whole space to imagine the whole space being there. In Branigan’s words: ‘The necessary incompleteness of data under alternative interpretation highlights a critical fact: there is a persistence to top-down processing. A spectator is willing to fill in some data or ignore other data in order to maintain a particular temporal and spatial context – a master ‘frame’ of reference or schema – for events and details’ (46). This is an

important part of the constructivist theory, both for Bordwell and Branigan. In this sense, the narrative has control over the space: as long as the narration is convincing enough, the viewer is willing to overlook gaps and incompleteness in the space. The viewer creates a cognitive map, placing all the important spaces and objects, and the relation between them in this space (Bordwell, 113). This is not a specific replica of the set, but rather a map of important points, a way to understand the how the action is taking place (Bordwell, 113). Bordwell’s concern is thus with the scenographic space: the imaginary space of the fiction, the space in which the story is supposed to take place (Bordwell, 113). Although Bordwell does not mention it, landscape is definitely

scenographic, since it is part of the space of the fictional world.

Cues of the scenographic space are shot space, editing space and sonic space, all three presented on screen as well as offscreen (Bordwell, 113). In other words, how to create space in a shot? How to create space with editing (the transformation from one shot to the next)? And how to create space with sound? But this does not go into the particular space that is then represented and how this can be meaningful as well. Bordwell stays at the more technical level of different film techniques that are used to create a three-dimensional image that convinces the viewer. He also stresses the fact that the narration actually has control over the space, because the viewer will fit his

perception of space into the narration. Even though Bordwell’s account of space is most exhaustive of the three authors, he does not go into the meaning of the space an sich and how this also can have a narrational function. He does mention setting as one of the film techniques that can function narrationally (12), but does not mention it any further, although he acknowledges that the film techniques besides the camera should not be overlooked with regards to the narration.

In conclusion, Bordwell, Branigan and Thompson all recognise time, space and causality as the vital factors of narrative/narration. However, their main focus is with causality,

namely how the characters and events are formed into a narrative. Thompson does not go into the subject of space at all, Branigan is mostly concerned with how the spectator creates space, and Bordwell is thorough on the subject, but neglects the meaning of the space itself. It can be said that the relation between space and narration is a subject that is covered in the classical film theories regarding narrative, although not by all scholars and certainly not exhaustively. That is why this thesis will now turn to scholars who have written about the relation between cinematic landscape and the narrative. Natural landscape is only one example of a specific space, but it is a good start to create a theory of narration that is also aware of the specific place/space where the narrative is taking place.

1.2. Cinematic Landscape

Before we will discuss some theories by scholars who are interested in the relation between narrative and landscape in film, it is useful to go a bit deeper into the concept of landscape itself. Because what is a landscape exactly? To answer this question, we will momentarily leave the academic field of film studies and go to the work of writer John Brinckerhoff Jackson, who has written extensively about (American) landscape. In his book Discovering the Vernacular Landscape (1984) he goes into the etymology of the word ‘landscape’. According to Jackson this is necessary, because it is unclear what is meant by the word landscape nowadays, as the word has had different meaning over time (3). By examining the origin of the words ‘land’ and ‘scape’ Jackson comes to a new definition of landscape: ‘a composition of man-made or man-modified spaces to serve as infrastructure or background for our collective existence’ (8). Landscape as something bearing the mark of human influences, and as serving culture. However, Jackson also recognises a more old-fashioned definition of landscape, which is still persistent: ‘a portion of the earth’s surface that can be comprehended at a glance’ (8). Jackson reckons that these two definitions can also exist at the same time. He is doing research into the former one, but wants to remain ‘loyal’ to the old-fashioned definition as well (8).

Jackson also recognises metaphorical use of the word landscape, when it is used as a frame of reference for thought, events or relationships; a background for placing it in the world (4). Jackson opposes to the metaphorical use of landscape, mostly because, according to him, landscape is not metaphorical; landscape is a concrete, shared reality.

That is why he thinks the new definition of landscape is necessary, to refer to ‘landscape’ as a space with a permanent character, on the surface of the earth, and most of all, a space shared by a group of people (5). So for Jackson, the word landscape refers to a concrete space on the surface of the earth, a space with significance for people, a cultural space. Metaphorical use of the concept of landscape, for example landscape in film, gives the landscape a function only as background or frame of reference, according to Jackson, and this is not his idea of a ‘landscape’.

The concrete and cultural view of landscape is something that is also noticeable in other areas of academic research. Archaeologist Nico Roymans, for example, writes about landscape as something that becomes meaningful through culture. Landscape is not objective: every culture looks at and interprets the landscape in their own way (2). For some people, a specific kind of landscape might have an important historical meaning that other cultures are not aware of. Landscape as a social and cultural

construction. This resembles Jackson’s definition in that landscape is part of establishing a culture, and therefore collective existence. How do we go from this definition of

landscape as a social and cultural space to a definition of landscape as cinematic space? Film scholars focus on different features when describing cinematic landscape: they discuss the difference between landscape and setting, between landscape in film and authentic landscape, between natural and cultural landscape, between rural and urban landscape, between metonymical and metaphorical landscape. This last use of the concept of landscape is something that Jackson also recognises. He even mentions cinema, although briefly, in his discussion of the metaphorical use of landscape.

Landscape in film is, according to him, by definition metaphorical landscape, because the setting of a film is used as a frame of reference for the narrative (which consists of the before mentioned thoughts, events or relationships), as a background for placing it in the world (Jackson, 5). The setting in film functions as a metaphorical ‘landscape’ (a function to which I will come back later).

In this sense, all kinds of setting could function as ‘landscape’ in film. As discussed in the introduction of this thesis, Lefebvre uses a more specific definition of what

constitutes a landscape in film. He distinguishes between natural environment as setting and natural environment as landscape. With landscape, Lefebvre means a natural

environment in film that is autonomous – considered by the spectator in its own right, for being a natural environment (65). In addition, there are also two ways to see the

narrative in film: the structure that hides the landscape (because it is not part of the flow) or the structure that reveals the landscape (by involving the spectator with the natural scenery) (76). For landscape to be present in film, Lefebvre states that it needs ‘contemplative autonomy’: to step out of the role of subservient setting and be

considered in its own right by the spectator (74). On the other hand, Lefebvre also recognises landscape as part of the narrative, because the humane element of it (which is told by the story of the film) is what makes the landscape significant to the spectator (74). There are different aspects that are important for the spectator in experiencing the cinematic landscape: besides the arrested pictorialness, the duration, movement, sound and music are also important (Lefebvre, 71). These factors bring about emotions in the spectator, which makes him or her concerned with the landscape – not the landscape admired from a distance, but the lived landscape. Landscape is significant because it is human. In Lefebvre’s view, the landscape is both part of the narrative and apart from it. Even the landscape as autonomous space can have a narrative function.

An overview of different approaches to cinematic landscape is given in the book Cinema and Landscape (edited by Graeme Harper and Jonathan Rayner). Each chapter in this book is written by a different contributor, most of the time with their own use of landscape. In the introduction, Harper and Rayner describe landscape as both natural and urban, taking into account both the macro- and micro-environment, and the key point of landscapes according to them is: ‘that they are composed of many elements and that these elements interact to create our overall conception and reception’ (16). This definition of landscape is broad: landscape as every environment possible. Harper and Rayner make a difference between landscape and cinematic landscape, by stating that ‘the cinematic landscape is the imposition of order on the elements of landscape, collapsing the distinction between the found and the constructed’ (16). In other words, the film frames the landscape in a certain way, inherently changing it, while trying to be close to the original image. Landscape in film is linked to authentic landscape existing in our real world, which recalls certain meanings and interpretations. This resembles the definition Jim Leach uses in his chapter on Canadian cinema. He is one of the few

scholars in Cinema and Landscape who actually presents the reader with a definition of ‘landscape’: nature framed by cinema as to serve aesthetic and cultural purposes

(Harper and Rayner, 271). Leach acknowledges that frames are an essential element of culture, but problems arise when these frames (which represent culture) seem natural

(and therefore rigid, while they are actually changeable). All landscape in cinema is then cultural, according to Leach.

On the other hand, there are also contributors in Cinema and Landscape who do distinguish between natural and cultural cinematic landscape. Wimal Dissanayake, for example, regards the natural landscape as the mountains, valleys, rivers etc. and the cultural landscape as the changes made in this natural landscape by the presence of people (Harper and Rayner, 194). Another division in the use of landscape is made by Harper and Rayner. They divide landscape in film in metonymic and metaphoric

landscape (20). Cinematic landscape is metonymic when it shows recognisable elements to represent a larger concept (for example, show a skyscraper to represent a city). Metaphorical landscape is about suggestion; a metaphor is about a different frame of reference, to allow the audience to understand the story better. A third opposition that comes back in Cinema and Landscape is the contrast between rural and urban landscape, for example in Kate Taylor’s chapter about Chinese cinema. Leach also recognises this difference. Graeme Harper makes a difference between the overt’ use of landscape in film and the negligent, casual use of landscape (Harper and Rayner, 245). Marvin D’Lugo uses landscape both as location and as mise-en-scene, and he uses it in a broad sense – landscape as bot cultural and natural environment (Harper and Rayner, 119). Some of the scholars in Cinema and Landscape do use a more narrow sense of ‘landscape’. Sue Harper, for example, uses landscape only as natural landscape in her chapter about British film, with emphasis on the rusticity of the landscape (Harper and Rayner, 149). This short enumeration points to the fact that there is no distinct way of addressing the concept of landscape in film. Depending on the purposes of their writing, the authors appropriate the concept in their own way.

There is an element of cinematic landscape, however, that all scholars seem to agree upon. In the introduction of Cinema and Landscape, Harper and Rayner begin by saying that a representation of a landscape is ‘never neutral in intention or reception’ (16). A landscape in film is never just a landscape: the image is chosen by the filmmaker, and manipulated by technology and ideology. It could be said than that landscape in film is always a product of the historical authorfilmmaker as narrator (Branigan’s first level of narration). There is a personality outside the fictional world of the film that

determines what this world will look like. This view is shared by many of the other contributors. Marvin D’Lugo, for example, acknowledges the impossibility of landscape

forming a neutral setting in film. The filmmaker always has an intention and the landscape can be used to support this purpose. The landscape is always there for a reason. Wimal Dissanayake also emphasises the fact that landscape is not ‘innocent’: interpretation of cinematic landscape is always a cultural act, and because the film always frames the landscape, there even is a ‘double interpretation’ (first by the

filmmaker, and second by the spectator) (Harper and Rayner, 201). Cinematic landscape is submissive to cultural and aesthetical interpretation (how does it fit into the film?) and things like budget (for example, film different parts of the world in the same location) (Harper and Rayner, 250).

Summarising, scholars distinguish different characteristics of landscape in film. Cinematic landscape:

- is a metaphorical landscape - is meaningful through culture - is an autonomous space

- is linked to authentic landscape existing in our real world - can be divided into natural and cultural landscape

- is natural landscape only

- includes all kinds of different environments - can be divided in rural and urban landscape

- can be divided into overt and casual use of landscape

I think this enumeration shows that there is no clear definition of what cinematic landscape is. Scholars approach the subject from different perspectives, resulting in differing focuses with regards to the landscape. However, there seems to be consensus about the fact that a cinematic landscape provides an environment for the narrative to take place in, but without it being submissive to the narrative. The representation of the landscape in film is meaningful in itself, if only for the fact that every image in film is manipulated, including the landscape, and therefore always present with a reason. All these scholars are (implicitly) arguing that cinematic landscape deserves more academic attention, because up until recently, landscape in film (in whatever definition) was mostly regarded as insignificant background.

This thesis also acknowledges the significance of cinematic landscape, and I will use the concept in a more specific way than it is generally used. Jackson’s new definition of landscape has a clear cultural element in it, since a landscape is ‘man-made’ and serves

as a background for our ‘collective existence’. This is not how I will use the concept in this thesis. Landscape, in this thesis, will be used to refer to the natural environment present in film. At this point, my approach to landscape seems closer to the old-fashioned definition of landscape that Jacksons recognises: ‘a portion of the earth’s surface that can be comprehended at a glance.’ However, Jackson is talking about landscape as a concrete space in our world, whereas this thesis focuses on cinematic landscape (a.k.a. manipulated image). I acknowledge Lefebvre’s difference between setting and landscape in film, but I will regard non-autonomous natural environment as landscape as well. Autonomous/non-autonomous just represent two different ways of the functioning of landscape in cinema, but I will regard both of them as landscape, and both of them as landscape with a narrational function. With emphasis on the natural landscape, it is useful to take the difference between cultural and natural landscape into account. I will focus on the natural landscape in film, but the natural environments in the films I will analyse also carry cultural significance. As Roymans pointed out, all

landscape is meaningful through culture, so studying landscape and completely ignoring the cultural aspect is impossible. In addition, because the urban as well as the rural landscape are both cultural landscapes in the sense that they are defined by human presence, I won’t emphasise neither of these approaches to landscape.

The definition of landscape that will be used in this thesis is: ‘landscape is every display of natural environment in the film, regardless if this is in the background or the foreground of the narrative’. I acknowledge the inherent cultural aspect of landscape, but I won’t be focussing on cultural landscape. Rather, I will say that natural landscape can bear cultural characteristics. Important to remember is that when I discuss other authors and their take on landscape, the concept is used in a different way, because not many of the authors discussed are defining landscape as natural environment only.

1.2.1. Functions of Landscape in Film

Wimal Dissanayake’s chapter in Cinema and Landscape deserves special attention in the framework of this thesis, because Dissanayake argues that landscape in film is more narrational than is generally thought. He writes that landscape in film is usually thought about as ‘a provider of the requisite background for the unfolding of the narrative and a giver of greater visual density and cogency’ (Harper and Rayner, 191). However,

Dissanayake argues, there are more subtle and complex functions of the landscape that create meaning and significance for the film experience. He than gives some examples of ways in which cinematic landscape can work on different levels of representation and become significant (Harper and Rayner, 191). In view of the central question of this thesis, I think it is worth noting his entire enumeration here: 1) landscape creates awareness of place, time and mood, 2) landscape pauses the narrative and creates a varied rhythm in the story, 3) landscape intensifies the pictoriality of film, 4) landscape can create disjunction and juxtapositioning, by ironically placing images next to each other 5), landscape can play with our spatial consciousness, 6) landscape can be a new way of interpreting the meaning of film, 7) landscape can make internal issues of characters explicit, 8) landscape can be a visual analogy for complex psychological characters. What Dissanayake uses here as a simple enumeration of some of the narrational functions of cinematic landscape to start his own argument, actually resembles the functions that other scholars have written about, as we will see later.

There are only a few other contributors who also discuss the relation between landscape and narrative, and when they do it is briefly. Important to note is that the narrative function of landscape, according to these authors, is coherent with the cultural/ideological aspect of landscape. Landscape is not an ‘empty’ setting or background, it is an ‘ideologically charged environment inextricably bound up in the narrative’ (Harper and Rayner, 283). Paul Spicer, for example, argues that a film’s scenery (landscape) represents setting, character’s emotions, audience’s reception, surroundings and narrative. The essence of the story is then represented by the locations where the characters are, which influences the goal and the themes of the film (Harper and Rayner, 237). Graeme Harper argues that, because film can reproduce visual and auditive

elements, it can use the landscape to ‘overlay, reinforce, destabilize or even challenge the conditions of story’ (Harper and Rayner, 253). Jim Leach mentions the landscape

interacting with the narrative, to produce a relationship between nature and nation (Harper and Rayner, 272). Landscape in this case needs to be recognisable, otherwise it has no function in the imagining of a nation. In the last chapter, Christina Kennedy, Tiaánna and Meálisa Kennedy talk about the relation between the landscape as ‘where’ the narrative takes place and the landscape as ‘how’ the narrative takes place (Harper and Rayner, 283).

All these contributors recognise that landscape can function narratively, but this is basically as far as they go. Dissanayake is the only one who attempts to articulate how the landscape interacts with the narrative. So there seems to be at least some consensus about the fact that landscape can escape its function as background, as submissive to the narrative; the scholars noted above acknowledge that landscape can be more significant than that. If you take the eight functions enumerated by Dissanayake, the functions of landscape to play with our spatial consciousness and landscape as new way of

interpreting the film are the two functions that are given the most attention throughout Cinema and Landsacpe, although most of the time the authors do not specifically

mention that this is a narrational function (except above mentions authors). Foremost, they write about the landscape as a bearer of cultural meaning and significance.

Multiple scholars in Cinema and Landscape refer to the relation between landscape and ideology or culture. Landscape as a way of expressing certain views or ways of living. The landscape has certain values, through historical and social contexts, and this is why the landscape can, conscious and unconsciously, colour a film (Harper and Rayner, 283). In the chapter about Russian and Soviet cinema, for example, Emma Widdis states that landscape is something that needs to be changed; filmmakers used the landscape to tie the film to their ideological background (Harper and Rayner, 78).

Another example is D’Lugo’s observation that the use of landscape in Spanish cinema has changes over the years, due to political, social and cultural changes (Harper and Rayner, 128). He recognises a relation between the landscape and the cultural meaning and values of the time. Martin McLoone goes even further by saying that to show Irish natural landscape in an Irish film is a political statement in itself, because the landscape plays a distinct role in Irish culture (Harper and Rayner, 136). For Irish audiences, the landscape acts as an extra layer of meaning, a thematic element that trickles through all other layers of meaning in the film. Martin Mhando also regards landscape in film as a way of depicting a specific culture. He especially recognises the relation between the landscape and a sense of ‘belonging’ (Harper and Rayner, 206). According to Graeme Harper, landscape carries cultural and political relevance, which he concludes after studying Australian landscape as representation of indigenous or European culture (Harper and Rayner, 253). Jonathan Rayner also concentrates on the relation between landscape and indigenous culture, but for New-Zealand landscapes.

So in short, the landscape as a bearer of cultural meaning seems to be agreed upon. Landscape as part of a culture is also a way of landscape interacting with the narrative, because the cultural meaning can add significance to the interpretation of the landscape. It provides the narrative with a cultural context, resulting in extended

meaning.

Now that we have established that landscape can carry cultural meaning, and that this has influence on how the narrative is perceived, we will temporarily step out of film theory and into to the field of cultural geography. A branch in this academic field is the geography of film, where the representation of landscapes in film is the object of study. In his essay “Cinematic Landscapes” film geographer Chris Lukinbeal proposes a framework to approach landscape in film, by describing four functions: landscape as space, place, spectacle and/or metaphor (5). When landscape functions as space it is subordinate to the events depicted: the landscape as arena where the story action takes place (Lukinbeal, 6). Landscape in this sense is merely a generic background for the unfolding narrative. Opposite this generic use is a more specific way of treating the landscape: landscape as place. When landscape functions as place it depicts a specific location and gives the viewer a sense of time and place. The events are bound to this location, because the viewers know exactly where they are in the story (Lukinbeal, 7). Lukinbeal implicitly refers to the constructivist theory of Bordwell when explaining that landscape as place enables the viewer to develop a cognitive map, which depends on the audience understanding the significant parts of a location (Lukinbeal, 8). The relation between narrative and place is therefore tighter than the relation between narrative and space. Lukinbeal’s description of landscape as place gives the landscape a distinctive narrative role and acknowledges a clear connection between location and story. The landscape becomes foreground instead of background: an integral part of the narrative.

However, a specific place is often made suitable to act as cinematic space by means of spectacle and metaphor, the other two functions of landscape that Lukinbeal distinguishes. Landscape functions as spectacle when the attention is directed at the visual quality of the landscape itself and curiosity about this landscape arises (Lukinbeal, 11). When landscape functions as metaphor it takes certain cultural values and present these as if natural (Lukinbeal, 13). Stereotypical images and cultural/social conventions are used to construct a kind of mythical landscape (for example, in film noir, the city landscape is a place where people can never be happy). The difference between

landscape as spectacle and landscape as metaphor seems a bit hard to grasp, because how do you know when a landscape is conveying a second, ‘deeper’ meaning? According to Lukinbeal, the difference lies in the level of interpretation: a spectacle leaves the interpretation open, whereas the meaning of a metaphor is bound to its cultural and symbolical annotations. It is important to note that one function does not exclude the other: scenery can have several functions at the same time. Regarding the landscape as spectacle does not mean that it cannot function as metaphor at the same time, conveying a ‘second’ level meaning. This also goes for space and place. One could argue that every landscape in film is functioning as space, since the film appropriates it. A specific landscape could then be functioning as space and place at the same time.

From the four functions that Lukinbeal describes, the metaphorical function remains quite vague, partly because he does not go into the concept of metaphor itself. Basically, a metaphor is the result of interaction between two different domains of reference (Forceville, xi). A metaphor consists of a primary and a secondary subject (Forceville, 6). The characteristics of the secondary subject are projected on the first subject, as to understand the first subject via another domain of reference (Forceville, 39). In Lukinbeal’s framework, the landscape then functions as secondary subject, helping to understand a primary subject, which, in Lukinbeal’s words refers to the cultural and symbolical annotations of the landscape. The primary subject thus is the narrative, and the metaphorical landscape is enabling better understanding of this narrative. So the cultural values, social conventions and/or stereotypical images that are imbedded in the landscape (= secondary subject), are used to convey meaning regarding the story/characters/events (= primary subject). The primary subject of this kind of metaphor is not a concrete subject. Talking about metaphorical landscape is a way of explaining how we understand the narrative, with help of this landscape’s

characteristics; instead of understanding the landscape itself, the landscape is present to help us understand something else.

As mentioned before, Lukinbeal’s primary subject of the metaphor remains general and vague. Dissanayake last two functions are more precise manifestations of the metaphorical function of landscape, because he states that landscape can make internal issues of characters explicit, and landscape can be a visual analogy for complex psychological characters. The relation between psychological traits of characters and the cinematic landscape is something that is of interest to film and theatre scholar David

Melbye. With his book Landscape Allegory in Cinema (2010) he wants to increase awareness of natural setting in film in general (151). He does this by proposing a

framework of allegory in cinematic landscape. Allegorical landscape can be considered a form of Lukinbeal’s metaphorical landscape, because it both refers to a type of meaning that is not directly visible, but arises when a symbolical meaning is added to the natural landscape, helping the spectator understand the narrative. Melbye states that landscape has narrative meaning when it reflects the psychological state of a character. Melbye refers to these ‘landscapes of the mind’ as allegorical landscape (1). Allegory is a cultural phenomenon that is always part of a tradition (present in painting and literature) and the meaning of landscape allegory is therefore something that is culturally decided and specific for certain groups of people (Melbye, 3). Landscape as bearer of cultural

meaning is thus related to the allegorical (metaphorical) function of landscape. Melbyes research aim is to find out at what moments landscape functions psychologically and becomes more than a mere background for the story. Conventional/mainstream films do not invite the spectator to look for a second interpretation of the landscape, according to Melbye. The films that do are more experimental films that use a narrative mode where cinematic space (landscape) specifically asks for this second interpretation (Melbye, 3). This does not mean that all use of landscape in these films is allegorical: allegory only exists when the landscape is connected to the psychological state of the character. For example, landscape use in Westerns can be aimed at authenticity, whereas other Westerns are more allegorical. Experimental (for Melbye: avant-garde and non-narrative) films use specific ways of editing, framing and juxtaposition to make the connection between setting and character and thus add a layer of allegorical meaning to the landscape (Melbye, 13). In other words, when landscape functions allegorically it also functions narratively.

Mebye acknowledges that landscape is always present in the background, as support for the story, but then states that this use of landscape (which is different from the allegorical use) is not of narrative importance. I disagree with Melbye on this point, because I think the background is an integral part of the narrative: the scenery of a film is part of/reflects the themes and the atmosphere and is thus also directly linked to the interpretation of the narrative. For example, a scene might convey a different meaning if it was set in a small garden then when it takes place in the middle of a forest. From the four functions that Lukinbeal distinguishes landscape as space seems to have little

representative meaning, because these are the moments when the landscape functions as arena for the story. This assumption resembles Melbye’s statement that landscape functioning as ‘mere background’ is not of narrative importance. As I have noted above, I disagree with this notion. Even if the landscape is simply in the background of the story, it still conveys meaning to the spectator, because, as mentioned before, use of landscape is never ‘neutral’ or innocent’. The landscape is used for a reason, with the purpose of generating a certain meaning. Although the cognitive function of landscape as space is more obvious, this does not mean that landscape as space cannot have a

representational function as well. Landscape in the background can be a cue for the atmosphere of the scene (sunny sea in the background versus a rainy mountain) and still have meaning for the theme of the film. Cinematic space (in contrast to place) is more undetermined than a specific place, because a place automatically comes with a historical/cultural meaning. Space is something more general and therefore open to interpretation. The meaning of this space can either come from the particular space itself, or it can rise from the way the story appropriates the space and the interpretation of the spectator. In this sense the narrative has a closer relation with landscape as space, than with landscape as place.

1.2.2 Categorisation of Functions of Cinematic Landscape

As the above overview of literature on cinematic landscape shows, there are many possible approaches to landscape in film and the relation between this landscape and the narrative. I will now first give an overview of all the functions mentioned, and then try to categorise the functions into a clear schema.

The functions of cinematic landscape that were mentioned in the studied theory are as follows:

- Landscape as background for the narrative

- Landscape as creating visual density and cogency (persuasiveness) - Landscape creates awareness of place, time and mood

- Landscape as an autonomous space (pausing the narrative and creating a varied rhythm in the story)

- Landscape can create disjunction and juxtaposition by ironically placing images next to each other

- Landscape can play with our spatial consciousness - Landscape can make internal issues of characters explicit

- Landscape can be a visual analogy for complex psychological characters - Landscape as representing narrative

- Landscape as representing the essence of the story

- Landscape as factor of influence of the narrative in many different ways - Landscape as interacting with the narrative

- Landscape as representing the nation

- Landscape as ‘where’ the narrative takes place (location) - Landscape as ‘how’ the narrative takes place (narration) - Landscape as bearer of cultural meaning and significance - Landscape as having historical and social values

- Landscape as a political statement

- Landscape as depicting a specific culture.

- Landscape as carrying cultural and political reference. - Landscape as space

- Landscape as place - Landscape as spectacle - Landscape as metaphor

- Landscape as allegory, as reflecting the psychological state of a character - Landscape as ‘mere’ background

When categorising all these functions, there seem to be six categories:

(1) Landscape functioning as background : as creating awareness of time, place and mood, as space, as ‘mere’ arena for the story to take place in.

(2) Landscape functioning as place : as location, as ‘where’ the narrative takes place. (3) Landscape functioning as narrational agent : as ‘how’ the narrative takes place, as

playing with our spatial consciousness, as representing the essence of the story, as interacting with the narrative, as creating disjunction and juxtaposition between images, as creating cogency (persuasive value of the narrative). (4) Landscape functioning as spectacle : as arrested pictorialness, as autonomous

(5) Landscape functioning as representative of culture: as having historical and social values, as a political statement, as depicting a specific culture, as carrying cultural and political reference, as representing a nation.

(6) Landscape functioning as metaphor : landscape as allegory, as making internal issues of characters explicit, as a visual analogy for complex psychological characters, as reflecting the psychological state of a character.

Landscape as background, place and narrational agent are examples of landscape as cognitive space; landscape as spectacle, representative of culture and metaphor are examples of landscape as representational space. The functions in the first three

categories are cognitive, because they are part of the narration of the story. If landscape is functioning cognitively, it is helping the story forward; landscape as active part of the narration. The last three categories are more representational in nature, because they are focused on the image itself, and what this tells. If landscape is functioning

representational, this means that the landscape in itself is meaningful and this meaning is contributing to the narrative (whether this meaning is natural, cultural or

metaphorical).

In conclusion, the cognitive function of space in film is something that is

addressed in existing film theory and landscape – as specific form of cinematic space – can also be a cognitive cue for the spectator. Representational space also forms cues for the spectator, but in a different way. Branigan and Bordwell have shown how cognitive schemata guide the spectator in the understanding of the narrative. Branigan’s levels of narration point to narrator on different levels of the film, and the setting of a film – of which landscape is a part – is more important on some levels than on others. Branigan and Bordwell’s focus on the cognitive function of space – the way in which cinematic space can enable the spectator to understand the story – neglects other functions that cinematic space can have: representational functions that are also important for the narrative and narration. A film appropriates the space it shows, can give it a cultural and thematic meaning, and allow for the space to become more than a mere background, location or cue. Landscape is important in this argument, because it is a typical kind of cinematic space that can have a representational function an sich, because landscape is something that is present in everyday life, which makes it a universal frame of reference for filmmakers and spectators. The functions of cinematic landscape described by Lukinbeal, Melbye, Dissanayake, Lefebvre and others endorse this assumption. So there

is a difference between space as a narrative technique to tell the story (cognitive) and space as integral part of the image, as object in itself (representational). The six above mentioned categories of cinematic landscape function as either cognitive or

representational space (or as both, in a specific situation). It is the specific way in which the landscape determines the story and thus guides the viewing experience that is of interest to me. Categorisation of the different functions of cinematic will help

understand how the film enables the spectator to understand the narrative.

1.3 Corpus

If landscape has different narrative functions, how can these be articulated? And how do these functions relate to the way the spectator understands the narrative? That is what the research in this thesis is about. These questions reveal a cognitive assumption about the understanding of film: a spectator uses elements from the film to generate meaning. Landscape is one of these elements and I believe that it plays a significance part in conveying the narrative to the spectator. Analysis of three films will illustrate this point. To be able to do so, the films have to meet certain criteria. For one, the natural landscape has to be a significant part of the setting of the film. The narrative function of landscape in film is not something that has been written about exhaustively, and if there is no or little landscape present in the film, I cannot use them here to illustrate my point and try to propose a categorisation of functions of landscape in film. Further research could obviously look into other kinds of films as well. Secondly, the films should be made by independent directors, because I expect them to be less focused on the standard (Hollywood) way of telling stories, and thus allowing for the landscape to be of greater importance in relation to the narrative. Thirdly, the films should be released in

approximately the same time, when the filmmakers have access to the same film

techniques and resources. This results in a more compact comparison between the films, because I don not have to take into account the differences of the consequences of new camera’s, or computer techniques. A fourth criterion is about the title of the films. If the landscape is to have a significant part in the film, it makes sense that this is reflected in the film’s title.

These four criteria have resulted in the selection of the following films: Brokeback Mountain (dir. Ang Lee, 2005), Mud (dir. Jeff Nichols, 2012) and No Country for Old Men

(dir. Joel and Ethan Coen, 2007). All three films have references to the natural landscape in their title. Brokeback Mountain is literally the name of the area that is so important to the protagonists of this film. The name refers directly to the landscape, putting it at the core of the film. Peter Travers acknowledges this in his review of the film. He writes that Brokeback Mountain is a ‘landmark film’, and that ‘Lee and the gifted cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto transform Proulx’s terse prose [the film is based on a short story - JF] into expansive visual poetry. Shooting in Alberta, Canada, Lee avoids trite postcard prettiness to find the beauty and terror in nature that mirror the vivid and sometimes violent relationship between the two men.’

The mentioning of landscape is also literally in the title of No Country for Old Men. Furthermore, the title also gives this landscape an explicit characteristic: it is not suitable for old men. This gives the title a kind of anticipating value. Or, as Peter

Bradshaw describes it in his review of the film, ‘the bleak and unforgiving borderlands of Texas by the Rio Grande are the setting for the triumphant new movie by Joel and Ethan Coen.’ Different characteristics are ascribed to the landscape (bleak/unforgiving)

landscape, which means that the landscape itself is conveying something to the spectator.

The title of Mud refers to one of the characters in the film and to the landscape. Mud is a kind of soil, a mixture of sand and water, and this is exactly what the natural landscape in this film is about: a river, surrounding an island. As Kate Stables writes in her review of Mud: ‘Nichols, an Arkansas native, gives his delta drama a strong sense of place, as sensitive 14-year-old Ellis and his cynical best friend Neckbone roam the deserted Mississippi waterways where their families scratch a living oyster-diving and trap-fishing, covertly seeking parts for the three-lodged boat that could carry righteous murderer Mud and his estranged lover Juniper to safety.’ Everything that has to do with the narrative is also linked to the landscape: the boys roam the river, their families livelihood depends on the water, and Mud needs the water to get to safety.

These three films thus meet the first criteria: landscape is an important part of the setting and the narrative of the film, which also is apparent from the title. The films are made by independent directors, whose films screen at important festivals like Cannes, Berlin and Toronto. Lastly, the films are made in a time span of seven years, which is close enough to put them in the same time frame regarding cinematic techniques and resources.

1.4 Method

As said before, the research in this thesis will focus on how the film enables the spectator to construct a narrative, with emphasis on the construction of space. I will try to do so, by distinguishing different functions of cinematic landscape. The focus will be on the cognitive as well as the representational function of cinematic space, more precisely: the natural landscape. Cinematic landscape as cognitive space includes landscape

functioning as background for the story, landscape as a specific place (location) and landscape as active narrational agent. Cinematic landscape as representational space includes landscape functioning as spectacle, representative of culture, and metaphor.

In Studying Contemporary American Film (2002), film scholars Thomas Elsaesser and Warren Buckland describe different theories and accompanying methods to

approach film analysis. In the chapter about mise-en-scene critique they state that this theory raises the awareness of the significance of certain visual and auditive elements of the mise-en-scene (Elsaesser and Buckland, 82). Landscape is part of the mise-en-scene of a film. Elsaesser and Buckland describe different heuristics that are employed to analyse mise-en-scene. One is the ‘foreground-background heuristic’, described as the integration of the characters with the background in a frame, to create a connection between character and setting (Elsaesser and Buckland, 90). If the character is filmed in medium shot, this leaves room for the background to be part of the image, whereas a close-up eliminates the background from the shot. This heuristic assumes integration between the foreground and background if both are shown in the shot. Since the presence of landscape is something that is often in the background, but related to the foreground, this heuristic fits the way or arguing in this thesis.

In addition to this heuristic, Elsaesser and Buckland refer to Bordwell’s bull’s-eye schema as prime method to analyse mise-en-scene. Bordwell describes this schema in his book Making Meaning. Inference and Rhetoric in the Interpretation of Cinema (1989). He recognises three layers in a film: the characters (the inner ‘eye’ of the schema), the setting (the second layer) and the film discourse (the outer circle) (171). There are two different ways of approaching this schema: working your way from the outer circle to the core, or starting at the core and link this to the outer circles. Bordwell calls the first approach the commentative heuristic, and the second the expressivist

heuristic. The expressivist heuristic is used when the characters are at the start of the analysis: the setting and discourse generate meaning because of their relations with the characters (Bordwell 1989, 181). Branigan’s focus on characters, for example, makes it clear that he uses an expressivist heuristic to link the different levels of film together. Melbye’s landscape allegory is also an example of this way of arguing: in his view the meaning of the landscape derives from the psychological state of the characters. The landscape is in service of the characters, as it were, and helps to clarify the characters’ state of mind. The commentative heuristic works the other way around: the

discourse/setting is the start of the analysis. The discourse/setting frames the

characters and the action in a specific way (Bordwell 1989, 183). Lukinbeal’s essay is an example of this approach, because he takes the landscape as starting point and

recognises it as a defining characteristic of the events and characters. Bordwell stresses that every application of the bull’s eye schema takes into account all three layers of a film, but which heuristic you use depends on whether you take the meaning to ‘flow’ from the outer to the inner circle or the other way around.

The three layers of the bull’s eye schema – characters, setting, discourse – will all be given attention in the analyses in this thesis. The starting point will be the landscape (and thus the setting), but this is related to the characters and also to the way in which the story is filmed, the discourse, which can be described as ‘nondiegetic means of representation’ (Bordwell 1989, 174). My main motivefor writing about cinematic landscape is that films with an overwhelming and impressive scenery have a certain attractive power and atmosphere. The starting point of this thesis is that, in certain films, the landscape determines the spectator’s experience of the narrative: the landscape ‘frames’ the characters and events. This resembles the commentative heuristic, where you start at the outer circles (discourse and setting) and work your way in. The analyses will give attention to the way in which the landscape is filmed: composition, shot

duration, framing, which is all part of the film’s discourse. On the other hand, the characters will be part of the analyses as well, because they can help understand the landscape and the way it is used in the narrative. This means that this thesis will look at how landscape contributes to the meaning of the characters and events, as well as how the landscape relates to the film’s discourse. I will be doing so by using the

categorisation of the functions of landscape in film. With landscape as cognitive space, the meaning of the landscape is closely related to characters and events (inner circle),

whereas the landscape as representational space also has meaning that is (partly) independent from the characters/events (second and third circle).

2. Analyses

This thesis explores the way in which narrative film can use natural landscape for

stortytelling purposes. The focus is on the narrative of the film, and the way in which the landscape supplements and determines the story. My starting point is that the landscape can have defining meaning when it comes to understanding the narrative. In my

theoretical framework, I have distinguished six functions of cinematic landscape, all relevant with regards to the narrative. The three layers of Bordwell’s bull’s-eye schema reflect upon the landscape, some more obvious than others. Because I presume that landscape has a vital place in the storytelling in these films, the heuristic used in my analyses is the commentative one. To analyse specific scenes of the films and compare these with each other, it is important to pick similar scenes from each of the films. As described earlier, a narrative can generally be defined as one situation changing into another, by means of character action and events. Not all events of the cause-effect-chain are as important for the narrative. By picking the moments that are most important to the story, the comparison between films becomes clearer. These moments are known as turning points.

The “Times go by turns” (2010) blog by Kristin Thompson recognises eleven different kinds of turning points in film narrative, based upon a list she made years earlier in Storytelling in the New Hollywood (1999). Thompson’s eleven turning points are as follows:

1. An accomplishment, later to be reversed 2. Apparent failure, reiteration of goal 2a. Failure, new goal

2b. Failure, lack of goal

3. Major new premise, reiteration of strategy

4. Protagonist/Important character makes a decision, then changes or modifies goal

5. Major Revelation, new goal or move into climax

6. Enough information accumulates to cause formulation of goals

7. A disaster, accidental or deliberate, changers the characters’ situations/goals 8. Protagonist’s tactics are blocked or he/she is forced to use the wrong tactics 9. Characters working at cross-purposes resolve their differences