These articles concern the film To Kill a Mockingbird, based on the classic Harper Lee novel. While some provide background information on the Depression and racism to set the backdrop and atmosphere, the articles focus on the character Atticus Finch, and whether he should indeed be considered a paragon of the law profession. However, the information can be used for any paper regarding the classic film To Kill a Mockingbird.

“Race and the Death Penalty.” American Civil Liberties Union. 26 Feb. 2003. 31 Mar. 2006.                                                                  <http://www.aclu.org/capital/unequal/10389pub20030226.html>

            This article reviews information regarding racial prejudice in today’s court system. Racism is not a thing of the past and of small towns in the South; in fact, Pennsylvania and Colorado are the states with the highest proportion of minorities on death row. The article indicates that the color of the defendant directly relates to the likelihood that the prosecution will seek capital punishment. Also, the race of the victim is quite important. If the victim is white, then the death penalty has a much greater chance of being used, while if the victim is black, the chances are far lower. Again, the race of the defendant is also important, with white defendants receiving generally easier punishments than black defendants.

            Statistics are provided on various specific states, including Maryland, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Texas. All these states exemplify the statistics indicating that blacks are at a disadvantage compared to whites.

            The article also discusses the role of the lawyers in the discrimination process. In the case of a black defendant, the prosecution will always strike as many black jurors as possible in order to make the jury more likely to vote on behalf of the victim.

            Attorney General John Ashcroft has overturned numerous cases in order to seek the death penalty, and under an overwhelming majority of these cases, the suspect was black. He has ordered studies to be conducted, and has not found any racial prejudice to exist in the current system. The statistics appear to indicate otherwise; racial prejudice was not only a problem in Macomb, Alabama, but certainly still exists to the disadvantage of African-Americans across the nation today.

Du Maurier, Daphne.  Don’t Look Now.  New York: Doubleday & Co., 1971: 1-57.

Daphne du Maurier’s short story deeply influences not only the events in Nicolas Roeg’s film of the same name, but also the themes Roeg explores in the film.  The plots of the story and the film are basically the same, although (obviously) there are scenes in the film, which do not come from du Maurier’s story.  The opening sequence of the film (which shows Christine’s death), for instance, is an invention of the director, Nicolas Roeg.  Du Maurier’s story begins at the café, relegating Christine’s death to the memories of John and Laura.  Surprisingly, the film stays very true to the short story and the added scenes do not deviate from the overall direction of the plot.  The sisters, in the story, are identical twins (although the ‘seeing’ sister is grayer than the other) and remain mysterious characters throughout.  In the film, their paths cross many times with the Baxters (John and Laura) and Laura has many conversations with them.  The female characters, Laura and the sisters, have a much larger role in the film than the short story, which focuses almost entirely on John and his struggles.
The main differences between the film and the short story are the addition of a character, Bishop Barbarrigo, and John’s job restoring the church.  In du Maurier’s story, John and Laura are on vacation in Venice and John’s job is never discussed.  A tertiary result of this is that there is no need for the Bishop character, whose job is to oversee John’s renovation of the church (in the film).  The central role of churches and church figures in the film bring a religious element to the film that is absent in the short story.  The theme of faith (and lack of faith) is therefore also absent.  The film creates a sense of dread using ever-present murders and strange coincidences (such as John’s near death experience on the church scaffolding).  The short story explores the themes of prophecy and ‘second sight,’ but there is not the same eerie sense of uneasiness.  The fact that the film leaves Johnnie’s illness ambiguous (instead of saying it is appendicitis as the short story does) plays into the theme of the supernatural and the occult...

JN: Wide Angle
SO: Wide Angle Vol IX nr 1 (1987); p 11-31
PY: 1987
CP: United-States-of-America
TI: Photo-gravure: death, photography, and film narrative.
AT: Article; Illustrations; Bibliography

Despite its overly flowery writing style, the Wide Angle article “Photo-Gravure: Death Photography and Film Narrative” formulates an interesting analysis of the relationship between film, photography, narrative and death.  Author Garrett Stewart explores the filming techniques utilized to convey death across several films, but his analysis of the “photo finish” “freeze frame” employed at the climax of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is especially salient to his final argument.

            According to Stewart, both the photographic image and death itself “characterize a pointed and irreversible arrest of time.”  He goes on to argue that although film is a composite of still photographic images, the streaming of these pointed images breathes life into the actions that are captured one frame at a time.  By introducing the “radical stasis of a freeze frame” into a film like Butch Cassidy, however, the director creates a simultaneous death of the film in conjunction with the death of his characters in the film.  The “stop-action frame” turns Butch and Sundance into a still “image…the mirage of future movement.”  As Stewart writes, the viewer “does not imagine the heroes…stumbling and falling.”  “The contingencies of their narratives are over with their lives,” but Hill is able to glorify his heroes by concluding their story in a moment of bravery rather than degradation.

            Stewart explains that “the temporal violence of dying” is what creates the “readability of the photo finish” in cinema.  Yet he applauds Hill for expanding upon this standard trope by having his final image “fade to sepia monochrome” as though the shot were an old photograph taken by a sympathetic observer of Butch and Sundance’s last stand.  By fading the image in this way, Hill reintroduces the self-reflexivity of his work (previously seen through the still photos intertwined with the opening credits of the film) and reminds his viewer that the story he tells is ultimately a nostalgic tale of a period long-gone in American history.  Just as Butch and Sundance could not escape the changing times they were a part of, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid can only serve as a fond remembrance of the days of the Wild West by reminding us that those days and heroes are gone for good.

 

Long’s book offers a very interesting take on Ikiru, even though it only mentions the film once, through a quotation from Richie’s book.   The book begins to have relevance to the film with its definitions of “pokkuri” and “rosui,”  which are the names of two types of death in Japanese.  As Long explains, “the character for “death” is rarely used alone in reference to individual humans, but instead appears in combination with other characters.”   Examples of this given by Long are “shinju,” which means “lovers’ suicide” and “senshi,” which means “death in war.”   The word pokkuri, as described by Long, is, “a special folk category of sudden death that encompasses the best ways to live and die.  The include not imposing a burden on others through an extended illness, not suffering, and not having to face death directly.”   This “ideal death” is compared to “rosui,” which is another ‘good’ way to die and is “the gradual decline of old age.”   Watanabe is not afforded the luxury of dying by rosui, so his only chance at having a good death is by dying in the manner of pokkuri.  If we view Ikiru this way, we can attribute new significance and meaning to Watanabe’s actions at the end of his life.  His alienation from his son, his leaving the car to cough up blood (during the “nightlife sequence’), and his lonely death in the park, all can be seen as attempts at dying a pokkuri death.  Watanabe might not want to both his son and the writer with his illness and drying alone at the park would certainly guarantee no unnecessary burden on his son (before he dies).  Also, by dying at the park, Watanabe could be trying to associate himself with the thing that gave meaning to his life and that he willed into existence, because, as I quoted before, the Japanese combine the “character for “death” […] with other characters.”
The only problem with the “pokkuri” understanding of Watanabe’s death is revealed later on by Long, “Dying without the presence of other (kodoku nashi, or “lonely death”) is considered a terrible fate.”   This interpretation adds understanding to the “wake scene,” in which the various coworkers of Watanabe try to convince themselves that he did not know about his cancer.  The coworkers do not want to believe that Watanabe would willingly experience such a terrible fate, so they try to show that he did not do it willingly.  It is very hard to understand the film in terms of both “pokkuri” and “kodoku nashi,” so maybe the best information that can be gleaned from Long’s book is that “preparation for death may mean arranging for property distribution, laying the groundwork for role inheritance, or doing activities the person has always wanted to do.”   This offers a completely different take on Watanabe’s actions than Richie, who saw him as initially searching for solace.  Through this interpretation, Watanabe’s adventure with the writer could be seen simply as a way of preparing for his death, although the film itself does not seem to suggest this.  While none of these terms may have direct application to Ikiru, they do offer an interesting point of view of the culture behind the film and potentially provide some insight into the film that no other book offers.

            In this article, Paul Green attempts to synthesize and reconcile Thomas More’s written views of suicide and his own personal demise as portrayed in A Man For All Seasons.

            More expresses his thoughts about suicide in Utopia and A Dialogue of Comfort Against Tribulation. In reality, suicide, even by condemned heretics, troubles More because he believes heresy itself is curable but suicide rendered the soul irretrievable through his analysis of Church doctrine (136). Although More permits suicide in the Utopia only because the Utopians are not Christians, he further limits suicide to Cicero’s premise that “death was to be sought only when pain was so excruciating that a man could no longer function normally” (139)  and when the sustenance of one’s life has exacted a tax on society. Like St. Augustine before him, More repeatedly pronounces suicide to be in violation of the sixth commandment (142). In Dialogue, More encourages man to “accept adversity as part of a divine scheme (144). Thus, with the soul as a battlefield between good and evil, Man must depend on human wisdom and divine grace to fight off suicide, as well as the threat of eternal damnation (147).

            More draws a sharp distinction between suicide and martyrdom in his writings. One definition familiar to him considers suicide to be a self-centered act, whereas martyrdom is derived from a sense of duty (148). More repudiates aggressive martyrdom (153), and he dies in accordance with his view that death should not be recklessly sought or provoked, but thrust upon him. More did not seek martyrdom, but it was thrust upon him because of his refusal to recant his silence toward the King’s wishes for the Church. Because, ultimately, the only alternative to death was to recant, More earnestly knew he was sentenced to a martyr’s death.