Visual Design of The Shawshank Redemption

    
The Shawshank Redemption, directed by Frank Darabont, is a story of a man named Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) who is wrongly accused of murder. He is placed in Shawshank prison and meets Ellis "Red" Redding (Morgan Freeman), who he became good friends with. Dufresne retains hope of escape, and tunnels out of his cell over many years. Red is released years later, and joins Andy in Zihuatanejo.

The setting of The Shawshank Redemption, a dismal prison in a city in Maine, is iconic of the entire movie. It takes place in the 1950s through the 1960s. Accordingly, the setting has aspects that reflect this -- prisoners have posters of models from the time period, the clothing in the scene is rugged and of older style, cars outside the prison are from the time period, technology like record players are of older times, and haircuts of the characters are of older fashion. These are part of the setting for verisimilitude; everything is as we would expect from this time period, which lends the setting credibility. Prisoners at Shawshank also follow specific codes of behavior: they always maintain innocence, keep to themselves while remaining deferential to powerful gangs (the sisters) and guards, and are generally cynical of each other, as seen in the scene. A prison member is scornful of Red's ideas for no reason than being scornful. This serves as a microcosm to human behavior -- similarly, people tend to absolve themselves of all negative acts, and keep out of each others way while distrusting others. Furthermore, people tend to fear the powerful and accept their decisions. Perhaps the most powerful aspect of the setting is the social structure of the prison and outside of it, as explained by Red. Inside, people find positions of importance or respect; they can make themselves useful or well-liked, and gain good social status. Outside, they are simply old criminals with no reputation. This serves as a symbol of institutionalism -- prison leaves people useless on the outside world, even when they are intelligent and well-meaning, moral individuals.  Moreover, this is a symbol of hope despite unjust acts against oneself. Andy demonstrates his refusal to be the next result of the prison system, and escapes the fate that the rest of the prisoners are held to.

     The color palette of The Shawshank Redemption is interesting as well: mostly muted greys and browns pervade the movie. The prison holds no color at all in the scene, with gray courtyards, brown buildings, dark cell corridors, and dark or bland clothes worn by all. This creates a dismal, dreary tone that reflects all the members of the prison. Everyone -- from the prisoners to the guards to the warden -- is not happy. They are stuck in a routine of constant conflict, frustration, and boredom. The colors accentuate their cycle in order to make the audience understand their position. Notably, colors return outside the prison and at Zihuatanejo especially, showing the happier of lives of the free.

     In this scene, the lighting is evenly lit, with no significant contrasts. Although technically this is high-key lighting, it is not used to bring happier ideas. The lighting, although bright, does not feel bright; it is dull and stormy.The fact that even the light is bland and evenly distributed, with no interesting darkness or differences throughout the courtyard, reinforces yet again to the reader that Shawshank is dreary and boring. Almost nothing breaks the monotonous routines that the prisoners fall into during their many years. This scene also contrasts with the darkness and shadows of the cell area, which shows the depression and despair of the inmates during their many nights in their small cells.

    

The Success of "The Silence of the Lambs" is Not So Silent

          From the start, it was obvious to me that the success of The Silence of the Lambs was anything but silent. Before seeing the movie, my teacher rattled of some of its accomplishments, including an Oscar sweep of Best Picture, Actor, Actress, Director, and Writing. I have not previously watched many horror films previous to this movie, and I didn't know what to expect -- where in this odd title and odd movie poster laid the secret to this success? I admit this was probably a good way to introduce the movie; immediately I liked the idea of the maniacal, brilliant, imprisoned Hannibal Lector, whom seemed to be the main character the film kept drawing me into. The Silence of the Lambs, directed by Jonathon Demme, tells the story of Clarice Starling -- an aspiring FBI agent -- who attempts to help in the case of Buffalo Bill, a brutal serial killer sought by the FBI. Starling is assigned by Jack Crawford, head of the FBI's Behavioral Science Bureau, to talk to Hannibal Lector in an attempt to learn about Buffalo Bill, who was affiliated with him. Throughout the film, the tension grows as Lector surprisingly gives veiled information about Buffalo Bill, who has captured a senator's daughter and is known to skin and kill his victims. Although it could be said that The Silence of the Lambs is needlessly brutal and horrific in its violence, The Silence of the Lambs intelligently and seriously utilizes these elements to create a tense, compelling, and thought-provoking movie.

          One central reason The Silence of the Lambs is so compelling is the extent by which it is unified in plot. The obvious one is the recurring "lamb" motif -- when Starling was young, she had to live at a lamb slaughter house, whose screams haunted Starling for years. As the tension increases and the movie gets closer to the climax, I got a sense that Starling was trying to make amends for these horrors; to try and make right a terrible wrong, in her mind. This was reinforced as Lector asks "Will the lambs be silent, then?" in reference to the event that Starling should save Catherine Martin, who was captured by Buffalo Bill. Starling embodies this mindset as her desperation increases to save Catherine -- and then, she does in a climatic series of events. Meanwhile, Lector escapes to the streets in a complex plot twist. He calls Starling after everything has settled down, and asks her: "Have the lambs gone silent, Clarice?" Then once again, the audience is left pondering the internal struggle Starling has gone through, and whether she will be at peace with Lector -- whom she respects and loathes -- on the loose once again.

          Another aspect that makes this movie so compelling is its implantation of several types of irony, which gives the film a sense of mystery along with unique moods. First, Hannibal Lector uses verbal irony quite a bit. That is, he says things that he means in an entirely different way. For example, he uses anagrams to give one name to Starling and his captors, and yet hides what he really means underneath it. Probably the most interesting aspect of Lector is his complete irony of character. While he is an intellectual beyond anyone he has ever met, a doctor in psychiatry, he embodies the urge for primal cannibalism. This juxtaposition of complete opposite mindsets creates a mystery around Lector; the audience wants to know why he is the way he is. Lastly, Demme constructs irony of tone to highlight this part of Lector. After he escapes the cage by brutally beating both guards, and pepper spraying and eating another man's face, he listens to calm, sophisticated classical music. The audience is left with a bizarre feeling: should I feel repulsed or relaxed? Over and over again, Demme uses irony to provoke our interest in the origins of Lector's personality traits. 

          While it is true that The Silence of the Lambs is brutal and violent, the compelling traits of Buffalo Bill, Clarice Starling, and Hannibal Lector would not be able to be revealed as effectively without it. Demme recognizes that often the most dramatic, heart-felt truths are only drawn out with such primal aspects as cannibalism and death. I, on my part, am reminded of a study done in which it was found that rapists, pedophiles, and the like score perfectly high on moral exams; yet, they are testaments to anything but morality. This part of Lector fascinates me -- obviously he has perfect understanding of morality. Yet, he doesn't care for any of it. I am left thinking of his ironic traits and his views on "the lambs" whenever I think of the movie; yet, I can't quite make sense of it. I suppose that was Demme's intention from the start.

Hannibal Lector