By Elena Hijazi | Staff Writer

Lights, camera, action, cut, scene X, take Y. Nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to movie-making lingo, right? Well, kind of. This has always been the formula during filming, but the transformation of the medium of cinema has conceded the prestige of repetition of scenes to an indispensable level. Cinema offers room for error off-screen, which is what grants it the formidable ability to reach perfection on-screen. Practice makes perfect. However, this has not always been the case.

In the early days of cinema, film cameras allowed the actors and crew the privilege of only a few takes per scene. This was due to the rarity and lavish exorbitance of the film papers of those cameras. As a result, the stakes were much higher then. The actors knew that they only had very limited trials to get the shot right. Did this elevate their performance, mayhap? It is safe to claim that they were under more pressure, which may yield spectacular results, or disastrous ones. I think it to be the former rather than the latter.  An example of this is silent actor Buster Keaton’s stunt in his 1928 film, “Steamboat Bill, Jr.”, where a house falls down on him, rendering him miraculously safe from the fall. He only had one chance to get this right in his pre-CGI era, and he triumphed under pressure.

As cinema evolved, cameras evolved with it. The use of digital cameras to film movies became prominent in the late 1990s, and this made it possible to film a scene as much as the actors and auteurs desired. The clapperboard (shown in picture), that was invented by film producer F.W. Thring sometime in the early 1920’s, has now become clapped more than ever. Take after take; all bets are off, and the possibilities of how a scene may turn out are endless. The scenes that make it to the final cut change the entire feel of the film.

Does this not change the way the scene gets executed? I think it does. The difference between plays and movies, for instance, is that plays offer a single shot as well. This brings out raw emotions, adrenaline rushes, anxieties, and inevitable imperfectabilities in the shows that are lacking in cinema. Lacking, not in a bad way at all; but in a noteworthy different one. The procedure is different, the approach is different, and thus, the result is different.

For example, director Tod Philips of the 2019 film “Joker” said of Joaquin Phoenix’s dynamic performance during a scene where a talk show host was introducing Joker, “Murray (the talk show host) would stand and go, ‘Please welcome Joker,’ and the curtains would open, and he comes out and does something different every time.”  Something. Different. Every. Time. Repetition, here, allows more freedom for creativity. This can, too, render wonderfully enhanced scenes that the film crew would not have been able to capture if they could only film the scene once. Additionally, director Quentin Tarantino (whom I have written about) is infamous for filming an additional scene even after capturing the one he wanted. Why? “Because we love making movies” Is what the entire crew screams with him when they do that. That is just lovely.

All in all, repetition has its assets and its liabilities. The uniqueness of having only one take, like in early cinema and in plays, gives performances a certain vulnerability and rawness that they would not have had otherwise. On the other hand, repeating a scene multiple times like in today’s digital age, gives room for more interpretations, more ideas to arise and more creativity to flow. This is my take on repetition in cinema, I bestow it upon you with an open mind and heart. Thank you for taking the time to read this. That’s a wrap!