The president tells it like it is.
Please share this video with everyone you know – my final grade in one of my classes is determined by the number of views it gets!
The president tells it like it is.
Please share this video with everyone you know – my final grade in one of my classes is determined by the number of views it gets!
I like making videos a lot. I’m beginning to think, however, that I’m not very good at it.
There are a few shots and edits that I’m okay with in this video, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think it’s the worst thing I’ve done (not by far) but our critique time in class today made me realize a few things:
Over spring break I created twenty 20-second videos for my VIZA 612 class. Some of them are terrible, some are kind of cool. You can watch them all here.
In addition to working on my ray tracing program and rolling out a new render-queueing system for the Lab, I actually managed to watch another film from my list – Vittorio de Sica’s 1952 film Umberto D. de Sica’s earlier Bicycle Thieves is one of my favorite films, so I’d been looking forward to seeing the film he claimed to be the most proud of.
It was an interesting journey to go on, because at the beginning of the film I felt like de Sica and screenwriter Cesare Zavattini were trying their hardest to make me feel sorry for the title character by pointing out his troubles almost ham-fistedly. The dialogue, shots of people reacting with disdain to Umberto, and most especially the demeanor of Umberto’s landlady all rather loudly cried, “this man’s life is crumbling and you should feel sorry for him!” I remember Bicycle Thieves being (or at least feeling) more nuanced in its handling of its characters’ poverty, and evoking a much more natural sympathetic response.
However, I got over this feeling of forced sympathy as the film went on and experience plenty of real emotion, especially as the degree of Umberto’s attachment to his dog, Flike, became clear. Even the housemaid with whom he shares an almost fatherly attachment is ignored and spoken harshly to when Flike goes missing, at her most vulnerable moment in the film. It’s sad and touching despite the sometimes odd-feeling interactions between Umberto and Flike (played by a trained canine actor) that seem like something more fitting to a 60s Disney movie.
It’s not quite on the same level as Bicycle Thieves for me, but Umberto D. is definitely a great film worth checking out; I plan on watching it again at the next available opportunity.
“The hipster tries to distance himself from societal norms by rejecting all labels; but even this action is fruitless since the rejection of labels is a form of labeling unto itself. Once the hipster realizes this, his only consolation is in knowing that his once-ironic appreciation for vinyl and Pabst Blue Ribbon has blossomed into an authentic feeling of enjoyment that exists outside of the meta-realm of cultural accoutrement.”
You can quote me on that.
a link for reference. i’ll write out a longer explanation later after i’ve had some sleep.
https://docs.google.com/present/view?id=df489wr9_38vz4skn32&interval=20&autoStart=true