Sarris, Auteur Theory & "Pulp Fiction"
Andrew Sarris begins his notes on auteur theory by presenting some of the relative views that prominent film theorists have made in the past. In the opening line, he states that there is no legitimate definition of auteur theory; its meaning is ambiguous. But he refers to Ian Cameron's simple yet encompassing definition, which says "the director is the author of a film, the person who gives it any distinctive quality." (Sarris, 561) A prominent concern is also mentioned in the question of 'exceptions'. However we as audience members tend to accept and trust the accuracy of the auteur theory in is entirety; Cameron continues, "which makes it difficult to think of a bad director making a good film and almost impossible to think of a good director making a bad one." (Sarris, 561) Sarris explains that the auteur theory is not an invitation to make assumptions, that filmmakers have deviated from form in the past and that there are too many contingencies present when making a film to entice a viewer to hold any preconceived notions.Sarris' main description of auteur theory is structured into three different premises. The first premise states that the director must have "technical competence" to fall into the category of an auteur. That regardless of the other elements that come with the medium – the script, the actors, the set – the director "has to be at least a good director." If he has no "flair for the cinema , he is automatically cast out." (Sarris, 562) The second premise deals with the presence of a "distinguishable personality". A director has to develop a signature style in order to be seen as a auteur. This is displayed by recurring themes and styles that are present throughout a body of work. The third premise focuses on "interior meaning" – the essence of the artistic creation – the spirit that is incarnated in film when a director combines the premises together. "It is ambiguous, in any literal sense, because part of it is imbedded in the stuff of the cinema and cannot be rendered in non-cinematic terms." (Sarris, 562)
Sarris explains that these premises can be seen as three separate circles: the outer as the technique, the middle as the style, and the inner as the meaning. And the roles a director conforms to within the circles would then be one of technician, stylist, or auteur, or a combination thereof. Sarris indicates that the inner circle, the premise of meaning, is the main focus of an auteur. Yet he states that there is no formula, no direct path set for how to move in and out of these circles, for the theory itself is one that is in "constant flux". (Sarris 563) Despite the prominent roles that reputation and stature play in the auteur theory, the true import and pleasure of the theory derive from examining a director’s body of work as a whole and noticing the inter-connections and similarities – as if one were putting together a cinematic puzzle on multiple progressive levels.
It is clear when reading Sarris' "Notes on the Auteur Theory in 1962" that his objective is to offer an insightful look into what constitutes auteur theory. He presents a close and precise discussion of the core doctrines of auteurs. When exploring individual or previous criticism his comments are always relavent, avoiding any marginal or sceptical claims. It is in light of this that I find it extremely difficult either to pinpoint or expand on a single weakness in this article. I did however find several topics in the article immensely enlightening and would like to respond to them.
It is quite fascinating to see how the idea of the auteur theory evolved from being almost a catch phrase, as Truffaut expressed, "merely a polemical weapon for a given time and a given place" (Sarris, 561) to this almost ‘received as doctrine’ understanding of directorial hierarchy. This widely embraced and potent theory has become, however, somewhat misunderstood in the sense that its core essence has not been effectively translated in the minds of movie-goers. By clearly deconstructing the theory into three premises, Sarris explains what truly constitutes an auteur. Once read, his points seem obvious, yet we as viewers often forget the importance of reccurring technical and narrative styles, embedded meanings and similar compositions across a filmography. From our passion for certain filmmakers comes a bias toward reputation and establishment status. This attitude exerts a subtle force. It is not unjust to say that the auteur theory carries a element of the 'star system'. We subconsciously sympathize with 'household names', and are prone to pass less judgment on them, while remaining equally skeptical of the possibility of success of an independent directorial debut. These schemas of a ‘good director’, which we have established in our minds, play a considerable role in what we choose as viewers to subject ourselves to. It is easy to think that 'once your in your in' but as Sarris points out, this is not the case. There are more criteria at work when understanding the auteur theory than simply the mental image of Stanley Kubrick. Therefore it is important not to let the intangible quality of the auteur theory elude us.
Sarris makes a valid point by emphasizing the importance of "technical competence" as a prerequisite for attaining auteur status. When we think of a filmmaker who falls under the category of an auteur we immediately agree that he is at least a 'good director' if his films give off the aura that there is indeed a director in charge. However, films are often a product without a vision. And the process of distinguishing a 'good movie', which is subjective, from a sense of recognizable personal vision and individual cinematic style is not always easy. Filmmaking is a collaborative process; most of the time anywhere from a dozen to hundreds of people go into making a film successful. Therefore the claim of ‘a film by... so and so’ on a poster can be read as somewhat of a convention. Technical competence is thus a primary requirement for auteur status because as Orson Welles once said, and Sarris reiterates this point:
There are more bad directors than people know because it is the only profession – movie directing not stage directing – the only profession in the world where you can be incompetent and go on being successful for thirty years with nobody ever discovering. Because the only job a director can do in a film of real value is to do something more than what will happen automatically, if the story is put on, if the actors are good, they find themselves around the cutter, the cameraman, everything. If a director is something of a cameraman, something of a cutter, something of a actor, something of a writer and preferable completely a cameraman, completely a writer, completely a actor, then his contribution is a real one. Otherwise he is simply the man who says action, cut, take it a little slower, take it a little faster and nobody will ever discover that he doesn't know anything. (Welles, CBC Interview, 1960)
Lastly, within premise three, the idea that the "interior meaning is extrapolated from the tension between a director's personality and his material." (Sarris, 562) is truly profound. It is the belief that the artist’s journey in making sense of the world around him in relation to his craft is what propels him forward. This tension between the human psyche and the material is his life force. And this palpable struggle between psyche and raw material is how the art form manifests itself through the creative process. This is the heart of the auteur theory above all else – the ability to both open and focus the mind in order to harness and channel intrinsic value into the minds and souls of others. The challenge to consistently convey this interior landscape calls forth the whole being of the director that longs to be expressed. The presentation of these "interior meanings" are realist in nature for they do not impose, they simply display themselves. This subtle presence allows us as viewers the freedom to choose, and to hone in on what resonates deeply for us. Filmmakers, like many true artists, often choose from a small list of personal beliefs and recycle them in different ways, modifying or alternating the emphasis but not the message. Witness Jean Renoir's famous quote, "A director only makes one film in his life. Then he breaks it into pieces and makes it again." I like to think that, like Sarris, when watching a masterpiece by a great auteur, we just know intuitively we are in the presence of greatness – that “élan of the soul”, Sarris speaks about (Sarris,563) where all three elements (technique, style and meaning) are transmitted cinematically, resonating internally until we are left with an ineffable feeling, this is it.
When examining Quentin Tarantino's acclaimed Pulp Fiction (1994) in relationship to premise one of “technical competence”, it is more than evident that there is a director in charge. And then, to refer back to Welles’comments, Tarantino is also completely a writer and something of an actor, so in turn his contributions have made a definite impact on cinema. In a purely technical sense Tarantino's earlier work is quite simple and his choice of shots, angles, cuts and overall composition is quite basic. In Pulp Fiction we see the standard use of two shots, close-ups, shot reverse shot, over the shoulder, medium shots, basic pans and high and low angles, all very textbook production techniques, and predominantly realist. Through this use of simple techniques along with several long-takes (like the opening coffee shop sequence or the hallway debate over foot massages) and minimal camera movement, the camera never draws too much attention to itself. This allows Tarantino to emphasize his strong point – the execution of narrative content.
Quentin Tarantino, in regards to premise two, undoubtedly has an original style. We have come to know him best through the ways in which he tells a story. The signature content that spells Tarantino – the circumstance, the dialogue, the timing, the delivery and how all of these elements are presented in chapters, in units, arranged in the exact order that Tarantino intended them to be seen – all of this is quintessential Tarantino. And the main hook for the audience is the script, the dialogue between two characters, which is masterful. Tarantino has a unique way of painting a desired picture or mood through words. This verbal hook locks in the viewer’s focus and makes him or her ‘buy into’ the whole scenario. We become completely at one with the non-linear, fractured narrative as we experience it for the first time. Thereafter, it becomes one of the main Tarantinian conventions audiences recognize and respond to. Pulp Fiction deals with one of the main Tarantinian themes brought up in class, which is the emphasis "on a group-of-professional-elite in opposition to the normal world around them." Exploring the world of marginal, ruthless, underworld members of society, Trarantino examines and comments on the aspects that make up these individuals’ lives. Their current situations, their daily events – robbing coffee shops, collecting for the boss, dates with the boss's wife, entering fixed boxing rings, dining out or even retrieving a 'cheap gold watch' – regardless of how intriguing, plain or insignificant these circumstances may seem on the surface, they are brought to life through is the dialogue. The simplicity of the set, combined with the quirkiness of the complex, multi-layered dialogue emphasizes the potency of the script: McDonald's in Europe, TV pilots, body piercing, foot massages, generic or gourmet coffee, the heroin market, blueberry pancakes, $5 milkshakes, even the uncomfortable silences when the characters have to ponder what to say next (do you remember your line, Vince?) all of this compels the viewer. It is these minute details that attract audiences to Tarantino's world. It is a personal, quirky, subjective depiction, where the audience feels as if they have been invited for two and half hours to take a joyride with A Band Apart.
Pulp fiction and Reservoir Dogs (1992) set the foundation for what was to follow. This quirky writing, choice of fonts, music, composition and narrative structure all became part of Tarantino's signature, which is what defines him as an auteur. As for premise three and "interior meanings", with Tarantino they are quite vague in a literal sense, as they should be for such a director. Tarantino does not make overtly meaningful films that present clear and universal truths at the forefront. As Tarantino said at the Cannes Film Festival in 1994 when he won the Palme d'Or for Pulp Fiction, "I don't make the kind of movies that kinda bring people together...I kinda make movies that split people apart." Yet the thematic elements that Tarantino has become known for are present in Pulp Fiction: elite group vs.the outer world, revenge, loyalty and betrayal between characters. And the most prominent meanings embodied in his films can only be translated in cinematic terms.
I experience the same gut feeling that Sarris speaks of when I see Bruce Willis slowly turn and glare at the receding John Travolta after buying a pack of “red apples”. I cannot help but be left with exactly the notion that Sarris expresses – it’s perfect and I wish to end on this very note:
“If I could describe the musical grace note of that momentary suspension, and I can’t, I might be able to provide a more precise definition to the auteur theory. As it is, all I can do is point at the specific beauties of interior meaning on the screen and, later, catalogue the moments of recognition.” (Sarris, 563)
Works Cited
Andrew Sarris, "Notes on the Auteur Theory in 1962", in Brandy & Cohen pp. 561-564
Orson Welles, "Interview with Orson Welles", Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, 1960.
