Pudovkin vs. Eisenstein on Love Actually
Pudovkin and Eisenstein are both extremely influential and creative film directors who have made multiple films and created ideas in the past that are still observed today. While these two editors both possess editing theories that are worthy of examination and are interesting to study, Pudovkin and Eisenstein’s views are extremely opposing. Whereas Pudovkin believes that films are built upon adding shots together in order to create a story or a chain of ideas, Eistenstein sought to reduce the meaning of every shot and arrange these shots in a meaningless manner so that the audience had to creatively make something of the compilation. When applied to the movie Love Actually, Pudovkin and Eisenstein would each have both issues and agreements with the film’s editing at certain points, but what is interesting about this movie is that both of these editing practices enhance the film in their own way.
Before going into my discussion about the movie, it is imperative to understand both Pudovkin and Eistenstein’s editing theories and be able to point out where they diverge. Pudovkin believed that cinema was composed of building blocks that were arranged to create a train of thoughts. He suggests that reality preexisted within each single shot, and that the right compilation or arrangement of these shots, achieved with proper editing, made this reality apparent to his viewers. He took single shots and granted them meaning by arranging them in a specific order to make a flowing story or narrative. In Pudovkin’s films, meaning always exists, and no single shot is ever left without having contributed a part to the chain. Pudovkin’s films always have a story in which everything relates. To him, the linking of ideas and the creation of a narrative is the essential part of a film. Andrew notes that Pudovkin desired to “see through the confusion of history and psychology and create a smooth train of images which would lead toward an overall narrative event” (50). Without this ultimate story, the building blocks of shots would be meaningless.
Eistenstein felt very different about the power and themes behind editing. Instead of creating a story where all of the shots were linked, Eistenstein sought to reduce all meaning within each shot and make each one as raw and meaningless as possible. He believed that films had a stronger interactive effect on the audience when the shots were cut up and arranged in an ambiguous manner because they would have to apply themselves in order to be comfortable with the material. In fact, Eistenstein wanted his audience to be confused by the reduction of the shots because this creation of conflict was art to him. In other words, he believed that film art is the product of conflicting ideas that ultimately generate something innovative. Essential to this idea of reduction is the fact that Eisenstein believed that all factors of film were of equal importance, like lighting, dialogue, backdrops, and so on. The traditional thought was that all of these factors served as subservient to the dialogue and the shot, but Eisenstein sought to neutralize each shot so that these film aspects could equally as important roles and leave room for creative engagement. Andrew notes that Eisenstein “hoped to create for film a system in which all the elements would be equal and commensurable… so that film can escape the crude realism of mere storytelling accompanied by supporting elements” (47).
Knowing that I was specifically interested in contrasting Pudovkin’s and Eisenstein’s editing theories over a film of my choice, I had to brainstorm movies I had seen where both of their ideas seemed applicable or apparent. The movie Love Actually is a great candidate to assess the application of these two theories because the movie possesses numerous seemingly unrelated pieces, but they ultimately all converge to form a single idea. As I pondered about how I should pay mind to both of these theories during my viewing of Love Actually, I realized that I needed to play the role of a sort of dual audience. In other words, I felt that it would be best to examine the film first in the way in which Eisenstein would want from his audience, and then again in the form that Pudovkin would desire from his audience.
As a viewer taking on Eisenstein’s theme, I paid attention to the conflict created by the various different stories being told. For about the first half of the movie, my head was spinning because I had been introduced to so many characters and different storylines and I had no idea how or even if these stories were related. For example, within the first thirty minutes of the film, I had been exposed to six completely different and unrelated sets of characters all involved in separate plots in varying settings. One man had recently become England’s new prime minister and was falling for his new secretary, one man was mourning the loss of his beloved wife, a couple had just gotten married and there seemed to be an issue with a friend of the groom, a rock star is dealing with the highs and lows of stardom, and another man is struggling with fidelity within his marriage. In my chaotic and confused state of mind, I realized that this is exactly what Eisenstein would have wanted me to feel. He would be attracted to this aspect of the film because it created art in the way that I had to be an active audience and apply my intellectual skills in order to make sense of the shots and the way they are organized, or lack there of. It would be a stretch to say that each shot was reduced to neutralization and was stripped of all reality to rawness because the shots belonging to each respective mini-story did seem to possess realistic implications with the shots prior to and after them, but as far as creating conflict and leaving room for creative input for the audience, Eisenstein’s theory resonated with this idea.
It was not until the latter half of the movie that I realized these different stories did in fact have a connection and a theme that unified them, and this is when I felt influenced by Pudovkin. By the end of the movie, I learned how each storyline had at least one character that was related to or tied to a character in one of the other stories, so all of the different plots converged into one giant multi-dimensional narrative. I was not sure if these stories would all come together or if they just each remained unrelated so that the audience was forced to apply some critical thinking, but the scenes progressively intersected and flowed into a single storyline, as Pudovkin would have liked. As suggested from the very first scene of the movie, which occurs in airport where random people are seen hugging or being affectionate, this film depicts the fact that love is everywhere, and that if you pay close attention, you can find love expressed or found in the strangest of forms and places, and this theme is carried throughout the movie and is the driving force behind each story and ultimately the giant combination.
This movie can arguably be described as deviant or similar to both Pudovkin and Eisenstein, or maybe just to one and not the other, but whatever the case, this film possesses enough diverse editing tactics to make a strong case. As I watched the movie, I found links to both Pudovkin and Eisenstein, but overall, I was relieved that the stories came together and eventually made sense to ease my confused mind. I do not mind having to experience conflict and be intellectually interactive with a film, but if my confusion is not settled by the end of the movie, I am never happy. Therefore, I would have to say that I ultimately favor Pudovkin’s theory on editing over Eisenstein’s, simply because I do not like walking away from a movie stuck in confusion. Others might enjoy this tension because it allows for more room for art analysis or creative thinking. Either way, film editing absolutely has a way of driving the audience to think a certain way, and the movie Love Actually should be watched by those who would like to be a part of an interesting and complex viewing experience.
Reference:
Andrew, J. Dudley. The Major Film Theories. Oxford University Press: New York, 1976.
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