9 Reviews from the Land of JBU Cinema: "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"

Written for various prompts in and out of my Cinema classes at John Brown this past semester, these reviews/analyses seemed to warrant inclusion here.

 

I began "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" after twelve one night, and finished well after three in the morning. It was a unique and disturbing experience, one that helped me to realize more vividly the nightmarish quality of the drama. Bleary-eyed, tired, and on the verge of incoherent at times, I felt as if I were stuck in the mire of that ferocious grudge match with the characters. It was not a pleasant experience. I felt afterwards less like I had finished a movie than survived an ordeal.

“Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” is all about staging. This is hardly surprising. It is adapted from a play, and it is shot like a play. The takes are long and the cuts are few and far between. The lighting is deliberate, but stationary. The major difference that I see between normal theatrical staging and the staging we experience here within the frame is that our set or location is three-dimensional and envelops both the characters and us as the audience. And when you think about it, this is the reason that this particular play, more so than so many others, is such a success on the screen. Put simply, we are trapped with the characters in the situation and the scene. The walls are narrow, and the camera puts us in fairly close proximity to our fellow “participants” (namely Martha, George, etc.). It’s no wonder that whenever we transition to an outdoor location, the pace slows and the hateful tone simmers down from boiling for a moment. When we are indoors, we are in a dreadful pressure cooker of emotional violence and psychological warfare.

Much could also be said of director Mike Nichols’ careful selection of camera angles, many of which bring to mind the stylistic flourishes of Orson Welles a la “Touch of Evil.” Dutch tilts are used, for example, almost exclusively in quick reaction shots of Nick and Honey, reflecting their confusion and state of mental imbalance regarding Martha and George’s abusive relationship. Another interesting touch, and one that also brings to mind the translation of the drama from stage to screen, is Nichols’ close framing of George and Martha during their several respective monologues throughout the course of the plot. The camera holds right up on them, and stays with them for excruciatingly long takes. This is very theatrical, and focuses the viewer on dramatic rather than cinematic method. When the camera does move during these long takes, however, it directly reflects the emotional state of the character in question. Look, for example, at one of Martha’s monologues, where the camera stays tight on her face even as it pans back and forth as if pacing with her.