Knock on Wood

Welcome to class! My full-time job is working at a university, and I teach as well. One of my dreams has always been to teach a film class. Taking students through the world of cinema and helping them learn about the art form that I am so passionate about would be an amazing experience. But alas…I teach math. This series, “Lessons from the Wasteland,” is my opportunity to offer readers a curated watchlist to learn through doing (…watching movies). Each film on this list will highlight a filmmaker, sub-genre, filmmaking technique, or significant topic in order to broaden your cinematic horizons. For this month we have…

Narration

Goodfellas

Did you want to grow up to be one specific thing? Thanks to voiceover narration, we all know exactly what Henry Hill (Ray Liotta) wanted to be…a gangster. This is one of the most iconic uses of voiceover in film history. With Martin Scorsese’s classic Goodfellas, all we needed was this opening line to see what this film was about and what it would be. It’s perfect writing, with great efficiency. Throughout this whole film, we see the seedy underbelly of Italian-American gangster culture but through the starry eyes of a young man seduced by the lifestyle. Even when things go completely awry, another iconic piece of narration tells us that Henry is still lost in this lifestyle. It was the only life he ever wanted and it became the only life he could live. But it is not just the perfect sandwich of narration that makes this film so special. Scorsese is one of the kings of narration, used to make sure his audiences get completely engrossed and devoured by whatever criminal lifestyle he is presenting, whether it is Wolf of Wall Street or Casino. Goodfellas is special because it has two great narration performances. Ray Liotta might get most of the work but Lorraine Bracco does such a pitch-perfect job giving the audience a look into her character Karen as she is equally seduced by this lifestyle. Scorsese is elite in the way he uses narration to get the audience completely engrossed and submerged in his world. But it is Goodfellas that is the perfect example and the multiple narrators make it even more impressive. 

Sunset Boulevard

Do you hate that “how did I get here?” trope? The originator of this tired trope (and probably the best example of it) is Sunset Boulevard. It’s so effective because it’s so unique: we find our main character DEAD. William Holden’s body is floating in the pool in the opening, but we get Holden’s disembodied voice telling us what we just found. This idea of taking a narrator to be an unattached version of the main character is fascinating. The most important thing to remember is that the narration is not coming from a character speaking to the audience. We are getting a version of them from beyond the grave coming in and walking us through everything. That is a great way to shake up an idea well before it becomes so familiar and tiring. This framing device has become so overdone, but for a noirish film, it fits so well. A disembodied Holden walking us through this sad and frustrating tale just feels so right. Holden has the strong but hardened voice to get around the cynicism that is needed to yarn this sad tale. This approach also helps in creating a foreboding perspective on the tale, as we know things are not going to work out. The bold choice to let your audience know that your protagonist won’t make it is a great way to put them on edge. The vocal performance that Holden delivers is excellent and lends itself to that tone in the best way. But the important thing to remember is that this trope was fresh once and Sunset Boulevard did it the best.

Barry Lyndon

The most classic form of narration is the storyteller, an omniscient being who helps walk us through the story while guiding us and adding some color to the proceedings. One of the most iconic examples of this is Barry Lyndon, from the filmography of filmmaker extraordinaire Stanley Kubrick. A creative genius and an overbearing and potentially harmful presence are two perfect ways to describe a legend like Kubrick. We may have found the most beautiful film in his catalog with Barry Lyndon, but it’s not just the picturesque visuals that make this a classic. One of the most important elements of the film is the narration. Film might be a visual medium, but narration has been a significant piece as well since talkies took over. Michael Hordern has a distinct and effective speaking voice that gave him success in such projects as Watership Down, but it is more impressive that he delivered one of his most memorable performances without even showing his face. Usually, narration spelling out the inside thoughts of the protagonist only really works on the page, but what makes Barry Lyndon so unique is that it is like a storybook brought to life. The frames always look like painted illustrations from a book. The tone feels like an old-school period novel. Kubrick does all he can to make the film feel this way and allows the narration to feel so authentic. There is an impressive impact the narration brings, as it also captures a bit of the sarcastic and caustic tone that is ever-present underneath the surface in this beautiful and seemingly civilized world created in the film.

Adaptation.

How can a film feature narration when one of its own characters calls out screenwriters for their laziness in using narration? Well…when Charlie Kaufman is writing a film, he can make anything seem to work that shouldn’t. That is what is so fascinating when it comes to Kaufman’s second collaboration with Spike Jonze, Adaptation, a story about a fictionalized Kaufman (Nicolas Cage) trying to adapt a book about orchids that should not feel like a traditional film and tries to avoid Hollywood pitfalls…but then delivers exactly the kind of story that the character in the film is trying to avoid making. It’s a film of contradictions and meta-commentaries that are layered and poignant. Kaufman splits himself into the neurotic arthouse writer and a brother who is all about the selling points of commercial filmmaking (who Kaufman must destroy in the process). With all of these layers, it only makes sense that Kaufman injects his big themes and ideas into narration at the beginning and end of his film. The dialogue is rich in the way it feels both jumbled and anxious yet completely intricate and intentional.

Listen to the world. Ponder them. There is so much to impact. The narration is used less in this film than in some of the others on this list, but they are deeply thematic and meaningful. Deeper meaning from fleeting narration can be an important way to set up a film for an audience or send them home with something to ponder. What makes Kaufman’s words work so much better is that Nic Cage says them. Cage brings a neuroticism and anxiety to his Charlie Kaufman and his expression of the narration is quite memorable. The words said are only half the battle. When you put narration in the hands of Cage, you know that it will automatically come off unique and interesting. 

The Big Lebowski

What would be the most random and strange way to deliver your narration? Give them to a seemingly random and pointless character who really adds very little while they are on screen. The Coen Brothers are the kings of making impressively memorable minor characters. The Big Lebowski is their crown jewel when it comes to minor characters. The noirish, private investigator story of The Big Lebowski never once feels like that kind of story that should have a cowboy in it…but that doesn’t stop the Coens from injecting The Stranger into the story. He only randomly appears at the bar with The Dude but he also gets to pull narration duties. Pair his opening narration with an old-school country/western song and it feels just right. Who do you get to see a random cowboy in a completely different film? Sam…freaking…Elliot. His presence is so synonymous with the Western genre that you can buy into it right away. The iconic voice and mustache stand out so well. Elliot’s deep and resonant timber works perfectly setting up this crazy earlier 90s setting and the strange life of The Dude. You would never think a narrator would make mistakes or mess up but this opening narration plays greatly for laughs too. The Stranger is a bit absent-minded, and trails off on a tangent that we never really know the point of. The Coens playing around with personality in a narrator like this makes for a unique and fun subversion of narration.
The Big Lebowski is foremost a comedy, so it only makes sense that the audience can get a laugh out of the narration too. Elliot’s approach is also warm and familiar which makes you really care about what he’s saying, which adds a nice feeling at the end with his closing remarks. Narration doesn’t just have to be there to explain and express themes. You can get a good laugh out of them too.

Also see: The Shawshank Redemption, City of God, Memento, About Time