We often see people as being a contextualized piece of something rather than a full actualized person themselves. For example, seeing a high school teacher at the grocery store with their kids feels momentarily disconcerting because the teacher had an assigned role that is broken by their being at the grocery store. Props that were their staple--a yard stick, or maybe a dry erase marker--are nowhere to be seen and it just feels off somehow. If ever asked to rationalize this, you would of course say this teacher is a person before they are a teacher, but because of their usual context, they feel more like a teacher than a person. This idea is brought to life in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest through the performances of the actors to create an intensely unsettling atmosphere.

One of the defining features of this film is its liberal use of extreme close up shots. Because of film's unique ability to capture and highlight subtleties in performance, the medium is uniquely equipped to handle broad and epic gestures, as well as more personal and intimate ones and give them the same amount of space on the screen. The faces of the various inhabitants of the psychiatric ward often take up the entire frame, and a large amount of information about the characters is conveyed through these shots. At the beginning of the movie, before we know anything about Nurse Ratched, her exchange of looks with McMurphy as the patient's group meeting dissolves into chaos tells us two things: Nurse Ratched is an unbelievably patient woman (or else she is simply used to these group sessions turning out this way) and McMurphy is surprised by how calm she is. Earlier in the scene, he had been laughing at the way the other patients yelled at each other, and his face conveys a mixture of disbelief and disgust upon seeing that Nurse Ratched hasn't lost her cool one bit. Also, we were previously told that McMurphy was sent to the hospital to evaluate his mental condition, while he claimed his unruly behavior was perfectly natural. He even mocks Dr. Spivey in that scene by adding "chewing gum in class" to his list of offenses. This, along with the look he gives Nurse Ratched, foreshadow his contempt for her and his attempts to "break" her. 

Nurse Ratched is completely accustomed to seeing her patients in this context, so it's not surprising that she doesn't react. By showing her complacency, Ratched takes on the view that it's alright to send these people to mental wards to separate them from society more than earnestly help them. This is in direct contrast to McMurphy's free spirit, and by having Ratched as the central antagonist, the film makes a critical statement about how ineffective mental hospitals are.

Near the end of the film, Nurse Ratched catches Billy in bed with Candy. As Billy puts clothes on and rushes to explain himself, he is met with applause from all the other patients and gives a confident smile, which is especially unusual for him due to his severe stutter and general shyness. When he says the line "I can explain everything", he does so without stuttering, which implies his one night with Candy was more therapeutic than however long he's been in the ward's care. When Nurse Ratched asks him if he's ashamed, he looks her straight in the eyes and says, once more without stuttering, "No I'm not". It's only when Nurse Ratched threatens to tell his mother that he reverts to his usual averted gaze and nervous stutter. Once again, the ones who are supposedly helping these patients are actually more focused on making sure they don't leave the ward. In the world of this film (and, by extension, the real world), mental disease is something to be locked away and kept out of normal society instead of treated, and the whole mental hospital system is built around this principle. Whether or not this is still a true assessment, I honestly don't know, but it's horrifying to imagine what these patients went through.

Once again, Nurse Ratched's skewed sense of context prevents her from wanting to help her patients at all. She is a representation of the status quo w/r/t how mentally ill people were treated. They are sick with no hope of recovery and that's the end of the story to her. She deliberately uses her knowledge of Billy and his mother's relationship (domineering, overprotective) against him. It's especially cruel when you consider that Nurse Ratched and Billy's mother are friends, so Billy can never truly escape from his mother, who is likely the root cause of his mental instability. 

Facial expressions are also highlighted in the film for purely visceral reactions. Jack Nicholson's face during his character's electro shock therapy takes up a large amount of screen space, and because the face is such an empathic aspect of a person's character, the pain he feels is felt in part by the audience. It is much easier to stay a safe distance from pain; for example, a distant shot of violence from a war movie might make an audience uncomfortable, but they don't feel the same gut-level reaction to pain that a close up shot portrays. Similarly, the Chief's face when he suffocates McMurphy with a pillow. The close up of his face portrays his sorrow at having to kill his only friend. It's also important to show how he felt forced into the decision because he knew McMurphy well enough to know he rather would have died than lived on lobotomized. 

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is a truly haunting film that exposes how damaging the popular opinion on mental disease at the time was. The atmosphere is created by the characters and their interactions along with the bleak set design and color choices. Jack Nicholson's acting is entertaining to watch, and the supporting cast of characters all have their own entertaining and sometimes heartbreaking quirks. The film does have a slow beginning, but once it builds its momentum it's an entertaining and emotional ride. 

3.75/5: Great, but not without issues. Recommended viewing. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest is available on Amazon Instant Video and DVD/Blu-Ray.

Sources:
Prince, Stephen R. Movies and Meaning, An Introduction to Film. 6th ed. Print.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Dir. Milos Forman. MGM/United Artists Entertainment, 1975.
Screenshots retrieved from a personally owned DVD copy

Despite being released nearly 50 years ago, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid holds up well; not only as a thrilling western, but as a progenitor of the buddy comedy genre. Much of the film's comedy comes from its character's interactions with one another. The shared animosity towards their mysterious pursuers and their ease of speaking to each other (ex: Butch half-jokingly "stealing" Etta from Sundance) draw the characters closer together and establish that they are great friends. But not all of their connections come from dialogue alone, the way the film is lit and colored also gives new insight into the characters and their journey.

Etta, the film's female lead, functions as a purity for Butch and Sundance. Her home is safe, a place to return to after a day's rob or a place to hide from their pursuers. It is fitting, then, that the first time we see Etta, she is dressed all in white. As the film progresses, she begins wearing darker colors to emphasize how hopeless their situation has gotten by the time they arrive in Bolivia. Her changing dress colors also foreshadow the place her mind is in when she eventually decides to leave Butch and Sundance in Bolivia. She knows staying with them isn't going to end well, and her clothing and the dim lighting in her scenes reflect this.

Another way that the duo's fate is foreshadowed is in the look of the American west compared to Bolivia. Our first look at both are preceded by sepia tone sequences, which pay homage to the genre, as well as highlight the fact that westerns were on their way out of the mainstream by 1969. Sepia tone gave earlier westerns their distinctive warm look. By shifting from the sepia tone to the establishing shots of the landscapes of the American west, and then later the medium shot of the harsh whites of the Bolivian train station, we see where the genre has been and how it has become modernized. Bolivia itself being visually desolate, especially when compared to the warmth and familiarity of the mountains and plains of America, foreshadows what will eventually happen when the duo's crimes catch up with them.

Now I'd like to move beyond foreshadowing, and discuss the color in the scene just after the big shootout. Butch and Sundance bleed vibrant red after being shot, in huge contrast to the dim, almost washed out look of the characters up to that point. This reminds me of The Wizard of Oz, where a similar contrast in colors is used to wipe away the droll Kansas and introduce the wonderful land of Oz. It's used to a similar effect here. The dull colors are familiar and safe, and the vibrant red looks out of place, strange, and dangerous. In another shot from this scene, a high angle shot is used to make Butch and Sundance visually small in the frame, as they're backed into a corner discussing their next move. Throughout most of the film, the two are a dominant presence on screen, being shot mostly at low and medium angles. The camera's position, compounded with their cowering position in the dark corner, combine to show that our protagonists are not as invincible as they thought they were, humanizing them.

Light and color do not act independently of characters and narrative. They can play an integral role in informing the audience of character traits without actually saying a word of dialogue or narration. Hopefully, through these examples from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the cinematographer's need for not only technical skill, but also design sense, is made explicit. Of course, the film is still an entertaining watch even if you don't consciously register any of this, because the narrative power of light works subconsciously.

4/5: Recommended Viewing. This film is available on Netflix and Amazon Instant. You can also find it on DVD, Blu-Ray, and probably television.

Sources:
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Dir. George R. Hill. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation, 1969. Film.
Prince, Stephen R. Movies and Meaning, An Introduction to Film. 6th ed. Print.
Screenshots retrieved from http://evanerichards.com/2009/468