Audio Interview - Nick on Videogames and Switching Majors

Codes, Modes and Role Play

For this year’s Codes and Modes conference on documentary film at Hunter College, I decided to attend a screening of Eduardo Coutinho’s Jogo de Cena (2007). The film’s title translates to “Role Play” in English and given it’s content, I couldn’t think of a more perfect title in any language. The film, while documentary is highly conceptual. The Brazilian director places an ad in a Rio de Janeiro newspaper asking for auditions from women over the age of 18 with interesting stories to tell.

Who's the real deal and who's acting? Does it matter?

Some of these women are then asked to film interviews where they talk about their lives and some of the harrowing experiences they’ve had to contend with over the years. Most interesting however, is the fact that while the film contains the original interviews as they were originally shot, Coutinho also places recordings of some of Brazil’s finest actresses performing the interviews as if they were texts/monologues. 

This gives the film a certain amount of ambiguity that is both challenging and in many ways, poetic. Once we understand the concept, as an audience we instinctually try to hunt for the “real” or authentic version of the stories that we are being told. However, reality and authenticity may not always be the same thing. We are duped by talented actresses through their authentic performances until they reveal that they are performing for the camera in various way, sometimes unintentionally.  But throughout this reveal we are still given an opportunity to view and listen to something “real” as they start telling their own stories. 

Straddling the lines between documentary and narrative film, Jogo de Cena is an achievement in filmmaking, forcing us to challenge not only our thinking around the role of the actor and their relationship to truth, but also the ways in which human beings relate to one another through sharing stories. It’s a beautiful film. Touching, thought provoking, and extremely important.

Museum of the Moving Image - ADR Sound Booth and Titanic Presentation

Ironically, the thing that struck me the most about our class trip to the Museum of the Moving Image were the presentations focused on sound. We started with the ADR booth in which three students were tasked with performing lines from the Eddie Murphy film Coming to America in sync with the actor as the scene played out on a large screen monitor. While the students had trouble with laughing at first, when the scene was played back it was actually surprising how well the illusion worked. 

I was instantly reminded of how when I was little and would watch classic movies with my parents, my mother would always point out instances in which the actor or actress’s singing was actually done by someone else. I can also remember instances in which the voices of the performers didn't sync up. It really hammered in just how methodically constructed (especially during their golden age) films are.

A lumbering beast howling in it's final moments.

This was proven even further by the following segment of the tour that had our guide deconstruct the audio in a scene from James Cameron’s Titanic. It was here that we learned about not only the various foley sounds that were placed in the scene for dramatic effect (none of which are sounds that occur in real life) but rather the inclusion of animal sounds that are blended in with the soundtrack to give the ship in the film an almost beast-like quality. For me, this made the scene (of the ship sinking) all the more effective and ominous. The Titanic a leviathan, groaning and writhing in agony as it’s swallowed by the dar and treacherous seas.

It’s this type of intentional and nuanced sound design that effectively taps into the subconscious of viewers and gives the images in the film more impact. I definitely walked away from this experience with a newfound appreciation for sound.

Sound Walk - Bus Journey

The squeaking of my high top sneakers hit rhythmically against the wet concrete tiles beneath them, every other step cushioned and muffled by fallen leaves that, on a dry day would crunch incessantly like a child eating cereal in the morning.

I can hear the light rain hitting every firm surface around me, but faintly. The wind lightly pushing the soft mist against me every few breaths. Despite this, a feeling of stillness prevails. The only disruption being the cars on my left humming as they pass by in both directions.

Upon reaching my destination, I can hear the breaks of the bus hiss and squeak as it turns the corner. An exhale. Receipts in my wallet crinkle as I search for the thin plastic pass that I need to board. Flick. 

The breaks hiss even louder now as the bus slows on its arrival. Doors swing open, folding and crashing into themselves with a dull echoing thud.

I can hear them close behind me as the busses engine re-engages and we start moving again. I slip my metro card into the machine that greets me after making it passed the folding doors. 

My card is sucked into the machine and then spat out with a loud whirring sound followed by a sharp beep. 

The car is not empty by any means but completely silent save for the repetitious humming and hissing of its engine and breaks. I squeak past the passengers I observe that most are either staring into space or immersed in whatever actin is taking place on the screens of their mobile devices.

A loud thud is heard and I plop into my seat. Another exhale. I throw my head back and let the rhythmic humming lull me to sleep until I'm awoken by the loud hiss of the breaks and the shuffling of feet desperate to leave and be on their way.