So I'll start this off by saying I really have no idea going in as to the structure I'm planning to attack this with. To be honest, I don't even know quite what I'm going to say, or, to be more precise, how I want to go about saying what I've noticed. I've taken a general class in cinematography, but I'm not by any stretch terribly knowledgeable on the subject of cameras. Further, while I've watched a fair bit of British film, I've not watched any of it critically, and besides
Sherlock and a
few episodes of
Primeval and
Doctor Who, I really know next to nothing about typical British cinematography -- if it differs from the usual American (US/Canadian) standards, though I don't really think it does much. That all being said, I've decided to go ahead with my plan of talking about
Sherlock's cameras, because the reality is that
Sherlock is easily the most stylish production I've ever watched. It's the only show that's consistently made me pause and rewind, just to see how a shot or composition was set up, and I can recall at least four separate scenes that I had to pause, just so I could take in the full impact of what just happened on my screen visually. I'm not going to make an argument about whether or not
Sherlock is shot
better -- that's far too judgy and subjective. I'm also not going to claim for a moment that its ideas are unique. I'm just going to try to impart my thoughts. And I'll say right off the bat, I'm sorry if anyone's done this before; I'm not in fandom, I haven't looked. This is all just personal gratification anyway.
Anyway, let's get started. I already said in my first post on this subject what I'm going to be looking at, generally, but I'll restate here, just to orient my thoughts. My first point of interest is how characters are framed, though I'm mainly going to stick with Sherlock and John (in future episodes, I'll likely also be talking about Moriarty and probably Irene Addler). I'll propose that the way they are shot heavily influences how they are perceived -- not only their moods, but how we are meant to relate to them. My second point will be made on the use of negative space, which will relate to my discussion on character perception (both in how characters move about the space given to them, and how they tend to be oriented within that space), but with the additional idea being to look at how all this extra space is used for transitions, as well as what I think I'll call "text exposition." My other points will have to do with general beauty in composition, and the cleverness with which the usual "rules" of cinematography are subverted, because I just want to recognize both. And since I'm breaking this up by episode, I'll have the space to do so.
With that out of the way, I'm finally going to actually get started, with "A Study in Pink."
Cameras and Characterization: Establishing Setting & First Impressions
I think it's fair to say that pretty much everyone came into this show with their own notions of who Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are as characters (to be honest, I hope this is so, because I don't know that I want to conceptualize a world in which
Sherlock is the only version of Sherlock Holmes people know about). That being said, initial character introductions were probably trickier than for other shows, because they couldn't simply have A Mysterious Though Obviously Central Figure walk into frame and then throughout the course of the scene, we as viewers find several qualities sympathetic and/or interesting enough to sew the initial seeds of investment. That wouldn't have flown. Most of us probably went in already knowing these characters at least somewhat intimately (for my part, I went in not liking either of them), and so these characters had to be immediately established in a way that would legitimize their source while distinguishing themselves from it. So how did they go about it?
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our first view of John Watson |
Likely, you form an opinion immediately upon viewing this still, which is precisely the point. I'll state what I see. We are looking down at John immediately after some sort of traumatic war memory. He is unhappy, and he is framed rather claustrophobically by virtue of the wall on the right and the edge of the very small mattress on the left. This all suggests he is trapped mentally, by virtue of his upset and the overall darkness of the scene, as well as physically, by virtue of how much he is being constrained by his environment. It is not surprising to see that he has a disability later on in the scene (or, it didn't surprise me), and I think this may be because of how his first few seconds are shot.
Further, we are immediately invited to sympathize with him. I saw the state of his stark, cheerless apartment, his weary posture, the look on his face, and I found myself already building a connection with him, because I felt sorry for him
, and within moments I was looking forward to his eventual introduction to Sherlock, not just because I wanted to meet Sherlock, but because I wanted John to be saved from his situation. In this scene and the ones closely following, John is established as emotionally open through his relationship to the camera, and, consequently, the viewer.
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open to the camera
note, warm colors |
The way John is framed is actually fairly typical, in terms of what I've observed from other shows, which is probably what someone may say in response to these images. And I'd like to propose that that is exactly the point. John is framed in a familiar way because he's supposed to be familiar. He's the one who makes sense. None of this really comes into play until Sherlock finally makes his appearance.
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our first view of Sherlock Holmes
note, cool colors |
Once again, I'd imagine that anyone would take less than a moment to come to several opinions on viewing these stills. I know in my case, I was immediately disoriented by Sherlock's introduction. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't a tight close-up of his face, upside down. Sherlock's introduction is at utter contrast to John's -- we are the claustrophobic one, while Sherlock is clearly not. John's introduction casts the viewer as passive and sympathetic, but our first experience with Sherlock is that of being an object of study, a role which we are made to actively experience; he invades our space without warning or pretext. Immediately, we see Sherlock as someone in command of the situation, as someone bizarre and unpredictable. When the camera switches locations, we can still see him with his head in the bag. The tension and discomfort created by his initial framing are then dispelled, and the moment becomes comical, but we're still left with a lingering sense of confusion and disorientation. We look to Molly for some help in grounding Sherlock, but it's immediately clear that she doesn't have that capacity. And then we rapidly switch locations.
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oh, poor, long-suffering Molly |
Sherlock's first few scenes come in a whirlwind. The sense of his general weirdness grows. I knew what to expect from a Sherlock, but this one seemed partially insane. I rapidly came to see how funny yet unfunny he was, and the camera never seemed to stop in one place long enough for me to get my bearings. Just when I got used to him being in one place, he would invariably move.
|
note, Sherlock's orientation; he is on camera left, Molly on the right, but both are positioned in the same way; this means two things: a) this is not a typical conversation, because they are not facing each other, and b) Molly is positioned to be open to the camera (and, thus, sympathetic), while Sherlock is not |
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alone now, Sherlock is even less open than before, now partially obstructed by lab equipment |
It's frankly a bit of a relief when he's finally still, but even then, he's no less enigmatic, and no more sympathetic. He simply doesn't position himself to be open to the camera. If one went in knowing nothing of Sherlock Holmes, one would be left feeling lost and confused about who this maniac is, and why he's whipping a corpse. Even knowing him, I was left feeling cut off from him, and I think that that was the point.
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Sherlock is, for the first time, framed somewhat openly here, but within moments he moves again, as John is entering the scene; note John's sympathetic posture and positioning, pretty much open from the second he walks in |
John enters, providing us an immediate harbor for grounding. Unlike Molly, he carries with him a measure of control, and the camera uses him as an anchor. Here again is the man we met before, the man who makes sense, and now his traits of normalcy and stability, as established in his introduction, seem heightened. John's presence doesn't necessarily help to unravel Sherlock, but he is able to act as our proxy. The bond that (in theory) began forming with him earlier now strengthens as John is thrown into an experience similar to the one we've just had -- having to grapple with the Great Confusion that is Sherlock.
John's stability and empathy comes, at least in part, from the fact that he doesn't move much in the scene. While Sherlock remains in almost constant motion, John simply stands there, calmly but suspiciously. Additionally, by consequence of his movement, Sherlock is shot from many directions, but John is not. This further cements our perception of John as stable and relatable, and Sherlock as eccentric and confusing.
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note how much ground Sherlock is covering as John stands still |
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John, now alone, left to orient himself to what just occurred |
Sherlock abruptly ends the scene by his exit, leaving John standing in the spot he's been occupying since his entrance. I would argue that the end of the scene (seen in the still above), that final image, is the most salient piece of the introduction of these characters, as it is the establishment of what will become a future motif of the show: John left standing in a space that Sherlock has recently abandoned (most heartrendingly, at the close of "Reichenbach") . Additionally, this final image continues to ask the viewer for her sympathy through its composition -- John is small, taking up only about a fifth of the frame, surrounded by a cold and alien landscape of lab equipment and chemicals, which he'd just previously judged as "a bit different from my day."
Initial Character Setting: Conclusion
Obviously, character establishment does not end with this scene. Equally important are the scenes following, but it's my opinion that the actual
introduction was concluded here. I didn't expect my discussion of the introduction to run this long, so in the interest of reducing the final size of this particular post, I will stop here. In terms of synthesis, the most important difference between John and Sherlock is that John is always shot sympathetically, with openness to the camera and, thus, to the viewer. It's in him that we are invited to invest in and understand the story through, because he is presented as friendly, likeable, and relatable from the outset. This is important, because Sherlock is not shown to us as any of those things (*yet*). Rather, he is a curiosity, one whom we need more time with to understand; and, ultimately, we
want to understand him, because we want to understand what it was we were just personally subjected to. I would argue that had our first view of Sherlock not been from within the body bag, had the viewer remained as passively observant as we were with John, Sherlock's inspiration for confusion and frustration wouldn't have been felt nearly to the same degree. These feelings lead to an increased feeling of solidarity with John, and so serve several purposes.
Next post, I will look at the first apartment scene, and how it affects that initial impression of Sherlock, and, hopefully, I will also look at a lot of other scenes, so that I don't end up talking about this episode for six posts.
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