By Drew Taylor | The Playlist September 18, 2013 at 3:41PM
"The Man Who Wasn't There" (2001)
Deakins' collaborations with the Coens have been exemplary each time out, there is no denying this. From the big budget period sets of "The Hudsucker Proxy" to the snowy Midwestern landscapes of "Fargo" to the elegant mixture of film noir intensity and Western locales in "No Country for Old Men," Deakins work with the Coens is consistently dazzling. But there isn't a movie the team has made together that is quite as pick-your-jaw-up-off-the-floor as "The Man Who Wasn't There." This was during an experimentally playful time for Coens and Deakins; the year before the team had done some really amazing things with the burgeoning field of post-production color correction and manipulation on "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" (The kind of thing that we can all do now on Instagram, but at the time was incredibly cutting edge.) For "The Man Who Wasn't There," they decided to make a movie in black-and-white. Like 'O Brother,' though, it was a process done after-the-fact. For foreign markets, they were contractually obligated to produce a color version. So they shot the film in color and desaturated it later, choosing where to make the shadows even darker or the lighting even more contrast-y. The results are images that are seared onto your brain: the light seeping into an empty department store, the way that James Gandolfini presses Billy Bob Thornton against a plane of glass, making it look like the lens of the camera is cracking along with the glass, the oily blackness of blood running down a man's throat, or the uncanny way a UFO peeks out from behind the posts of a prison wall (computer-generated, but seeming, like the rest of the movie, to be produced using old fashioned technologies, like a stop-motion Ray Harryhausen creation). There isn't anything particularly bold about Deakins' camerawork in "Man Who Wasn't There," and often the camera doesn't even move much (quite different than the sometimes frantic way that the Coens tend to operate), which makes the black-and-white photography even more effective and powerful. The stillness allows you to drink up the images, each one more beautiful than the last. Even Richard Jenkins sitting on a porch takes on a kind of painterly glow.
"The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" (2007)
Released the same year as "No Country for Old Men," Andrew Dominik's "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" is just as stunning an achievement. And right from the start we see his masterful hand at work. The nighttime train robbery is one of the most amazing sequences Deakins has ever had a hand in, visualized largely by a single light traveling through the dark woods, which illuminates the criminals, dressed in menacing sack cloth hoods like Jason in "Friday the 13th, Part 2." That sequence is incredible for a number of reasons, including the shot where the camera "catches" the front of the train and then travels along with it, and for the moment when Jesse James steps into the beam of the train, his silhouette a black blob against the light. Deakins used a bleach bypass process to enhance the blacks and wash out the color of the images, and worked on something he called "Deakinizers," which gave off the amazing "pinhole" look of some of the images, with the center of the shot being crispy focused but the borders looking frayed and blurry. "Most of those shots were used for transitional moments, and the idea was to create the feeling of an old-time camera. We weren’t trying to be nostalgic, but we wanted those shots to be evocative. The idea sprang from an old photograph Andrew liked, and we did a lot of tests to mimic the look of the photo," he said of the process. "Andrew had a whole lot of photographic references for the look of the movie, mainly the work of still photographers, but also images clipped from magazines, stills from 'Days of Heaven' and even Polaroids taken on location that looked interesting or unusual. He hung all of them up in the long corridor of the production office. That was a wonderful idea, because every day we'd all pass by [images] that immediately conveyed the tone of the movie he wanted to make." The results added to the haunting naturalism of the movie, which includes other indelible moments like the one where Paul Schneider follows a young woman to an out house, illuminated by a single candle, and, of course, the actual assassination, which Deakins shoots with such a stillness that you can practically see the dust hanging in the air, caught between shafts of light. "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford" is a movie that feels like some kind of antique treasure, and much of this has to do with Deakins' timeless photography, which netted him yet another Oscar nomination.
When Sam Mendes took the reigns of the James Bond franchise, he wanted it to feel different and, more importantly, look different. Deakins had worked with Mendes twice before, on wartime drama "Jarhead" and period melodrama "Revolutionary Road," and he knew that his eye was something that would set "Skyfall" apart. He was right. "Skyfall" is, without question, the most beautiful-looking James Bond movie ever. And it's all thanks to Deakins. Just think of the many moments that wouldn't have been achieved without his artful eye: the backlit fight in Shanghai (captured largely in a single shot), with the animated signs in the background; the entire lead up to Macau, with Bond riding in a gondola surrounded by Chinese lanterns; the reveal of Javier Bardem's desolated island stronghold; the climactic, darkly lit showdown at Bond's ancestral home; the shots of Bardem and Daniel Craig slogging through a field, their breath hanging in large, clumpy clouds in front of them. These would be indelible images anywhere, but in the context of a Bond movie they border on being legendary. When we sat down last year with Mendes for the movie, he told us that he wanted it to look different. Then he excitedly asked, "Could you tell?" Yes, we could tell alright. For his efforts, Deakins was nominated for the Oscar for the tenth time and failed to secure the award for the tenth time. Few, if any, $1 billion-grossing blockbusters have ever looked this stunning.
Of course, nearly all of Deakins' work is worth noting (except maybe "Doubt"—what was up with all those Dutch angles?) Things like "Beautiful Mind" and "The Village" are sub-par movies but feature exemplary camerawork and lighting, and even when Deakins isn't firing on all cylinders like with, say, "The Company Men," it usually has little to do with his professionalism and artistry and more to do with a lack of inspiration elsewhere behind the camera. We can't wait to see what Deakins shoots next. And honestly who do we have to kill to get him to win an Oscar?
Thoughts? What's your favorite Roger Deakins-shot film? Weigh in below. In the meantime, check out this little documentary about working with the Coen Brothers, Scorsese and more via LoSceicco1976.