My original review of Son of Saul wasn’t that great. I, at the time, did not have necessary knowledge or experience to cover the film. Not in my overall appraisal of the film (I stand by choosing it as the best film of 2015), but in my inability to actually write a fully functioning reason as to why it felt like it did. It’s been about a year, a year where I’ve learned a lot, graduated from high school and tried to develop my writing style and that lead me back to viewing the film again. The feelings I felt were as clear as when I first saw the film. Horrifying, suspenseful, unrelenting. I tried to put my finger on why exactly though and then it came to me. The content of the film is horrifying (it gets worse the more you see the movie and the more you notice) but if a single component of the film was lacking I don’t think the film would be so engaging. A component that forces the audience to stare into the abyss that Son of Saul presents us with and be moved. Son of Saul is suspenseful in its depiction of a literal hell because makes that suspense physical, forcing the audience into a trapped sensibility that never lets go of them. Yet how, on film, do you make suspense physical? Suspense isn’t a literal concept that exists as something physical in the real world. It’s simply our feelings of fear and anxiety as we await something. Physicality can be assigned to such emotions but that requires an abstract line of thinking, which is simply something that Son of Saul lacks. Abstraction is not for such an unrelentingly realistic work. Son of Saul does, however, use the film form to create suspense and it does so through a tool that many people viewing the film might overlook: the aspect ratio. The first thing that one notices about Son of Saul, other than of course the subject matter, is that the frame isn’t wide. In fact, it is 4:3 and almost always close-up on the face of Saul, the sonderkommando at the center of the film. This aspect ratio has two effects. First, it gives the film a distinct style and focuses the audience’s attention toward that subject of the film. Second, it also creates all the suspense that the film will ever need. The frame compresses in on Saul, making the events on screen seem infinitely claustrophobic. The audience is forced to only observe the horrors from a thin lens, always tempted by the full extent, yet almost never fully witnessing it, much like Saul is experiencing the horrors by shutting them out. The tight ratio also always gives us the impression that Saul is being watched specifically, honing both our attention span and the attentions of the other characters to Saul. The mere suggestion by the aspect ratio of Saul being caught trying to hide a body or helping a small resistance, and the consequences of being so, leads to suspense. The ratio often keeps characters that are addressing Saul from appearing to the audience until they are specifically addressing him, keeping us on our toes of whether or not the next person will be someone harmful to Saul or a helper. You jump every time a new person appears on the screen. The claustrophobia of the frame can also be interpreted as representative of the claustrophobia of the camp and the crowds that are forced in and out of them. All this leads to a cocktail of paranoia and anxiety for the audience, as we watch Saul travel through hell on Earth. Without its 4:3 aspect ratio, Son of Saul would not be as good as it most certainly is, and the use of aspect ratio to create a physical suspense is something that I hope we see more directors using. Bibliography: 1. Son of Saul. By László Nemes. Perf. Géza Rohig. 2015. DVD. Take a look at this trailer to watch the 4:3 aspect ratio.
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AuthorStephen Tronicek. Archives
July 2017
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