Close Up (Jul-Dec 1928)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

CLOSE UP visually reached also by repetition of design. This is how Eisenstein works. He brings out his drama by composition. He relies on composition to heighten (the word I have used) his drama. Pudowkin, once again, does not rely on composition so much. Plenty of scenes in the two films I considered are significant more by being complementary than pictorial in composition. But they suffice supremely, because his care is with subconscious imagery and that is his appeal. The picture he forms in our minds, not what he presents separately to our eyes. I know that one can cite at once several scenes seeming to disprove this. The scene I wrote about in St, Petersburg, of the figures crawling across the square, seen from above, and in Mutter the tenseness of the about-to-be strike is doubled by that particular view of the gates, the men and the group. But Pudowkin knows when to abandon his general plan (as does the other) in order to get the effect it would not yield in some particular case. If he is not always different from Eisenstein, let it be remembered there is no reason why he should be. There is a recognisable quality in all Russian pictures, and a recognition of pictorial value is one of them. Eisenstein has it so strongly that he does without any but dramatic imagery, and that is brought about mainly by the success of his compositions, which seem to make something symbolical. When we consider Eisenstein we are aware of something different. There is one curious fact, that the symbols that leap to mind are never people, always objects. The ship thrusting out in Potemkin (it was reproduced in Close Up for March) and the crowd streaming over and under a bridge in double movement; the tables swinging, the 25