Saul Bass & Otto Preminger: How a Great Graphic Designer Can Elevate a Middling Filmmaker
The Film Forum in NY is doing a retrospective of Otto Preminger’s work and I have to say that it’s a dubious enterprise. Watching The Man with the Golden Arm once again confirmed to me that his reputation of the maverick and auteur, rests very heavily on a series of poses and presumptions that his films made as being outre, modernist pieces of film art. The reality, for me, is that Preminger, with very few exceptions (like Laura), was firmly of the second rank of directors aping everyone from his fellow Germans, like Von Stroheim to William Wyler to Orson Welles. But a quick peek at his late filmography (his supposed peak) soon shows up the fact that he was a high-rank peddler of melodrama, practiced in the Grand Guignol of the late 50’s message film (“I got a monkey on my back!”) with none of the sophistication of a true artist. Compare Golden Arm’s mise en scene — its placement of elements in a frame — with its careful mix of people and props and slashes of light placed foreground, middle ground and background, going for some baroque effect that’s supposed to signal to us that we’re in the presence of art. It’s only when you peer in that you notice the hollowness of the blocking, the static orientations, it’s inorganic ostentation. More busy than baroque. Compare this with the great Welles, whose Touch of Evil Preminger must have screened over and over as he sat down to make his film. Welles’ images are like visual fugues with levels of concurrent reality that are modulated so that the overall effect is of complexity, ambivalence and fullness – not the show-offy clutter that Preminger gives us. And then there’s Preminger’s boldest masterstroke in his aesthetic shell game of the 1950s, which was hiring arguably the greatest graphic designer of all time, Saul Bass. Bass, the guy who designed the United and AT&T logos and helped Hitchcock with the shower scene in Pycho, created extraordinary posters that look like early 20th century modernism with the heavy black lines of a Mondrian and the colors of a Matisse, as well as vivid title sequences such as these for Hitchcock’s North by Northwest and Psycho. The posters and title scenes of the 50 Preminger films are of a very high order, such as this for Golden Arm. Regrettably, they convinced people that the films were similarly art. St. Joan’s broken sword reminded us of Bergman and Dreyer. Bonjour Tristesse’s lovely tear image made us think of Picasso. Bass was an artist at the highest level spreading his pixie dust on Preminger’s maudlin films and the Film Forum has bought the package.
Written by Tom Silva
David Day | Associates
About the Author: A guest blogger for dd|a, Tom is a guru of all things cultural. His artistic flair, creative insight and eye for design make him a keen observer of our world. Find out more about Tom at altergroup.com
February 18th, 2009 at 1:18 pm
An interesting observation indeed. The poster art samples you included certainly validate your point and reminded me how irritated I was recently by the poster art for the theatrical release of the Coen Brothers’ ‘Burn After Reading’. Visually, it struck me as reminiscent of Bass’ style, most notably in color and text, giving the impression that it would be an ‘art’ film – yet, just as you pointed out here in this blog, this artful advertising was just as misleading. In a day where poster art is generally uninspired, it was disheartening to see an inspired poster for such an uninspired film!
February 19th, 2009 at 12:41 pm
Superb insights. Touch of Evil is a visual masterpiece in my mind. I love the beauty of that film. Every visual segment or device is purposeful and well timed. Understatement is at the heart of every true expression of genius. So true in Touch of Evil. My current exception to that rule however, is Todd Haynes’ film I’m Not There. The visual devices are in your face, melodramatic and sarcastic at times. But that’s contextually perfect for an offbeat film about Dylan. And you know my lifelong hero worship of Saul Bass. You’re so right about the “shell game.” Beautiful design work to be sure. Thank you so much for your contribution Tom. Excellent.