The device of editing can create a powerful and completely cinematic effect and in the example shown in the previous post, Amadeus, it’s done from straight cuts alone. There are no extraordinary camera techniques, just cuts of close ups, music and pieces of paper arranged in a very effective order.

Complicated camera techniques and orchestrated shots, combined with dramatic compositions can create a cinematic effect like no other. But still, like everything else in film, they must serve the necessities of the edit. Beautiful shots alone, do not a movie make.

BLACK SUNDAY

Clip

Let’s look at an example of this happy unity. In Mario Bava’s horror classic Black Sunday, two traveling doctors have clumsily awaken the spirit of an angry medieval witch. While leaving the witch’s crypt they come across her descendant, Princess Asa Vajda, walking her dogs. They do not tell her what happened inside.

We fade into a seemingly ordinary night in the Vajda’s castle, where most of the film will take place. Bava introduces us to the family in this long, graceful tracking shot.

It begins with a profile shot of Asa playing a soothing melody on the piano, before gently arcing right and facing behind her. We can now see down the parlour.

This shot will continue its slow, leisurely movements down the room’s length.

We first meet her brother, Constantine, cleaning his gun.

We then track towards the giant fireplace and the most important character in the scene, her father, Prince Vajda. We know this because he is the last to be shown and his face is not visible to us; it will have to be revealed.

Up until now Bava has imbued this scene with a relaxed atmosphere; a typical evening in the Vajda castle. This has been accomplished by union of camera technique to editing:

First, the camera technique: a slow pan through the room relaxes the audience. We are not jarred by quick cuts within the parlour, but rather gliding smoothly through it.

Second, the editing: the lack of cutting allows the audience to further absorb the reality of the scene. The longer a shot is sustained the more the audience believes that the camera is the equivalent of their own eye. It’s only the unnatural act of cutting that pulls them out of this illusion. Note the choice in music. It’s not a fast tempo number she’s playing, but rather something relaxing, suggesting that the day is winding down, and the family will soon retire.

As Bava pans around the chair to reveal the face of the Prince, he first betrays this calmness.

The Prince’s face is not relaxed, but in a deep dark thought. The camera arcs around him and looks back at the family.

The Prince’s importance is finally emphasized. He is now the largest figure in the frame and he is on the left, the most important side.

Here, this magnificent tracking shot, and its musical accompaniment will cut, and the gentle atmosphere shattered.

The next shot:

A high angle shot of Asa at the piano. Instead of playing it, she will just strike one single key.

This discomfort hits the audience two-fold, and it again is a marriage of camera technique and editing.

First, the camera technique: This composition is uncomfortably high. It’s not at eye level with the characters, and seems to be the point of view from someone observing them from above. A re-awakened ghost perhaps?

Second, the edit: After a long and relaxing track that started from the piano and ended on the Prince in his chair, we abruptly cut all the way back across the room to where we started. What happened to our leisurely pace through the parlour?

Finally to properly finish the Vajda family introduction Bava lets loose, setting up the horror to come. From this high overhead shot he quickly pedestals the camera down, lowering the eye level to equal Asa’s.

Accompanying this is an audio cue: The moaning of the reawakened ghost.

“Listen, the voice trails off,” Asa says.

Bava almost immediately repeats this shot, only now with the Prince, the patriarch of the family. The presence of the specter is finally felt by him, and after a quick cutaway to the dumfounded brother Constantine, we quickly pedestal down again from the Prince’s overhead shot until we’re at eye level.

“I can hear it, what could it be?” the Prince becomes aware.

The calm of the scene has been broken, and all know that something is wrong.

Bava’s flare for camera technique and startling compositions is famous, and Black Sunday is full of arresting visuals. But each visual he presents must serve in tandem with the needs of the edit. The graceful opening tracking shot through the parlour room would not have as much power if it wasn’t contrasted so quickly by a startling high angle, and a fast pedestal down.

The vice-versa is also true. Bava could have constantly cut back to the high angle of Asa from the scene’s beginning, but its effect in suggesting the terror to come would be significantly diluted.

Careful and strategic camera technique can be a useful tool in communicating ideas cinematically, but it, like all the artistic disciplines that accompany film, serves the edit. A pretty shot is always welcome, but if it’s served alone or poorly managed, it does little to communicate an idea to the audience in a purely cinematic way.