Wednesday, 11 November 2015

Trading Places: how many marks would you give this?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHcd-srsSBY


In this extract, the working class character is portrayed as typically vulgar and unrefined. The wide establishing shot of him rolling down the path immediately establishes him as somehow ‘lower’ than those around him, while juxtaposing his rough clothes with the more elegant attire of the other pedestrians. The long take of him holding on to the black coat of the smartly dressed woman passing him allows us to feel her discomfort at being grabbed by a homeless man, while the diegetic sound of beeps and footsteps makes the moment feel very real and uncomfortable, if also rather comic. His coarserness is further emphasised by the medium shots of him and his red hoodie and tattered coat between the two smart, iconic uniforms of the police offers, who look down on him through low angle shots that reinforce their disapproval of his coarseness. The working class vulgarity is further emphasised by the dialogue: first, he uses a very unrefined chat up line – ‘We can make it baby, you and me’ – before insulting her with the word ‘bitch’; then he lies to the police offers about being a Vietnam veteran and, worse, a cripple, which makes us lose sympathy and reinforces our prejudice that homeless people are untrustworthy. Our prejudice and lack of trust for this character is embodied by the police, who assume he is lying before they’ve even spoken to him. The two shot of him praising Jesus allows us to also see the policeman eying him suspiciously, as if this over excited behaviour might lead to violence, and the camera rests on them as he walks out of shot  - and again from the reverse angle, then again from a long shot. This repeated shot-reverse-shot to the officers reinforce their vigilance towards homeless people: they are not to be trusted. When the main character later sees a police car, his reaction says it all: the low-angle close up of him submissively putting his hands up and saying ‘how you doing’ before turning around suggests that he is used to being singled out by the police, probably on account of his position in society. This distrust is shared by the upper class man who immediately assumes he is a thief. Non-diegetic music reinforces the danger that he is now in as his coarseness starts to cause serious problems. Let’s not forget that it is his clumsiness that causes all the problems – the bird’s eye shot of him bumping into the white man, combined with dramatic horns in the non-diegeticscore, along with the fast-paced editing make us understand the white man’s fears, especially when combined with the low shots of the homeless man and the high angle shots of the floored white man, reinforcing the latter’s vulnerability. This clumsiness is further emphasised by his treading on sofas inside the club and the wide high angle shot of him smashing into a butler and a tray: he has no place in this upper class environment, and can only bring damage and discord to it. Thus the dominant ideology is confirmed: poor people are disruptive to well-meaning society.
However, the clip also portrays the lower classes as unfairly treated. The elegant young lady doesn’t even deign to look at the homeless man harassing her, averting her gaze and reflecting society’s ability to ignore the homeless. The police seem more intent on harassing him than in helping the lady, and whenever we see them they are in a two-shot, suggesting that the powers that be outnumber and can easily overpower the lowlier members of society. The key moment comes when he accidentally bumps into the white man, who begs not to be killed even though the homeless man repeatedly offers him his briefcase back. The quick cuts between the security guard and the four officers sprinting towards the low-angled camera show how oppressed he is by forces much bigger than him – a feeling also confirmed by that final bird’s eye close-up of all the guns in his face, which leaves us in no doubt as to society’s fearful view that homeless people are a threat and should be dealt with disproportionately harshly. Indeed, only the jaunty classical music over the top ensures this scene is comic, rather than dark and somewhat tragic. We are also made to feel sympathetic towards him because he makes us laugh: after the bathos of the trolley being kicked away, reinforced by the sound of the wheels on the pavement, his show of being delighted at discovering he has legs and eyesight is melodramatic and causes us to sympathise with him. The cuts between the wide shot of the two static police officers staring at him and a closer, low angle shot of his bewildered face allow us to get to the know the character very quickly, laugh at him, and thus sympathise with him more than we normally would with a man who has just grabbed a woman in the street.
On one level, the upper classes come across as sophisticated and well presented. Unlike the dishevelled homeless man they wear ties and elegant coats, and the rich white man carries a classical briefcase, a real icon of financial success. As the homeless man passes the club where the commotion happens, we notice that even their guards with their caps and gold buttons are better dressed than him, while the front shots of the wooden club door, the steps and the lights outside paint a picture of perfect symmetry, reflecting the ordered beauty of upper-class life. Inside the club, racing green carpets and mahogany tables are looked down on by distinguished-looking men in suits and portraits of privileged men. As well as being well-dressed, the rich are powerful: the ‘victim’ is able to command the police at will, his entitled dialogue full of imperatives: ‘after him’ and ‘get him’ – in stark contrast to the helpless babble of the homeless man when caught lying by the police. His clipped accent is also more refined than the ‘street’ dialogue of the homeless man, reinforcing the audience’s expectations that a rich white man will be well educated and eloquent. This illusion of class is completed by the classical music (from Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro) which dominates the extract from the minute the homeless man enters into the rich man’s world by bumping into him – classical music being the domain of the privileged. A hip-hop soundtrack might have empowered the ‘street’ character in this scene, but the classical music ensures that he doesn’t stand a chance in the world of his oppressors.
At the same time, the upper classes come across as cowardly and stiff. While the initial impact with the homeless man might have been shocking, the rich man is blinded by prejudice, unable to see or hear the conciliatory attempts made by the homeless man to return his briefcase. His fear is all to representative of society’s unjust fear of the unfortunate regardless of their actual intentions, and while this situation is clearly unfair, it is only resolved when the homeless man is captured and we are all able to return to our safe, privileged lives.


Ran out of time.

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