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ON THE NATURE OF CINEMA 6 1
our senses to dwell in the picture's beauty. Thus does our appreciation mature.
If, now, we come upon a picture and a few seconds afterwards it is whisked away as if by magic, not only will our appreciation never mature, but we shall experience a distinct sense of frustration. But, you say, the colour -film picture is not a painting — it moves. That exactly is my point. Being bound by a frame, coloured, and in two dimensions, gives it great similitude to painting, yet it is not painting because it is not static. We have already said in some detail that not only does a film move internally within the shot, but by external means also. Thus we are removed still further from painting. We are yet so near and yet so far.
Infinite pains in colorization to suit mood, more particular care than ever in camera viewpoint and scenic composition will be of no avail in a high-tempo film continually cutting in order to achieve that tempo. For the eye will want to rest on each shot as it passes, to dwell on it. It will tolerate internal movement; but it will not have hiccoughing at any price. What, then, is the solution?
It seems to me, colour in cinema must have depth, J*)olt_That removes us a step away from painting, for our medium is no longer two-dimensional. Colour and depth? Merely greater verisimilitude, you might say. I do not think so, for a film of colour and depth built on the principles in use to-day would defeat itself. The very fact that it cut would be unnatural, quite unreal.