Slow Motion in the Movies
I saw Hellboy II on Friday. Great movie – lots of fun, absolutely beautiful, and lots of practical effects. George Lucas is probably complaining somewhere that del Toro will put computer effects people out of a job.
I kept wondering, though, why there was so much slow motion. Not that there’s an incredible amount, just enough that I felt like I could have done without. That got me to thinking about the whys of slow motion in cinema.
Sometimes, slow motion is a stylistic choice. In Scrubs, for example, there are many examples of J.D. walking in slow motion while narrating, adding an emotional weight to the scene. Consider Gladiator, where most of the fight sequences are brutal without using any slow motion, but occasional slow motion lends significance to certain shots – a wounded soldier crying out on the battlefield, the death of Maximus, etc.
Other times, slow motion is a storytelling device. In The Matrix, slow motion is used when the characters are “focusing,” or using their ability to bend the rules of reality. Though I don’t think it holds for the entirety of the trilogy, the slow motion is by and large as much a character trait or ability as it is a directorial choice. The Lord of the Rings used this a bit, shooting Cate Blanchett at a slightly different speed than the rest of the cast in order to give her character a more ethereal nature.
A lot of the time, slow motion is showing off. The Matrix fits here, too. Or 300. Or Hero. Anything by Michael Bay. Movies where slow motion is the director’s way of slapping the audience in the face and saying, “Hey! Look what we did! Isn’t that an awesome stunt/computer effect?” I don’t suppose there’s anything wrong with this. It doesn’t hurt for the director to love his baby a little bit. Stunts and effects take a lot of hard work, usually from people who don’t get much credit. It does make me wonder, though – why not just show the scene at full speed and trust the audience to see what you did?
Most of the time, I’m afraid, slow motion is lying. The director wants you to believe something – that the action is too fast to process if they didn’t slow it down, that the stunts are incredibly hard and brutal, or that the slow motion somehow enhances the movie. These times tend to break down quickly. If you look closely, you’ll notice that punches aren’t landing, or that stunts aren’t going full speed. The director is trying to cover his film’s laziness. Sometimes, I felt like this was what I saw in Hellboy II. I’ve seen it in dozens of movies. And honestly, I’m tired of it.
I want directors bold enough to say, “We’re doing this full speed, fast and hard and brutal.” I know it’s possible. The fights in the Bourne movies and Gladiator, the stunts in the old Indiana Jones movies, most (but not all) of Black Hawk Down, even the parkour chase in Casino Royale. These sequences could easily have been done in slow motion, but are more impressive because they are not. They feel more intense, more real because we can see exactly what’s happening. Couldn’t more movies follow this way of thinking?
Slow motion is a waste of time, unless it serves the story. If putting a shot in slow motion adds to the story somehow – giving a moment significance, or adding to a character – by all means, proceed with caution. But if slow motion just says “Isn’t this cool? My camera can shoot 70fps!” then please don’t. Run it at regular speed. Either the movie will be a half-hour shorter, or the story will be a half-hour better. Either way, I win.