In looking back at past projects and looking forward to prospective projects – I have observed a common thread within the large subject areas of adaptation and suspense. By starting from a clichéd form of suspense, detective fiction – I was able to quickly define the rules for suspense, at least the cinematic and literary rules. In the course of attempting to apply these rules to a graphic design context– patterns for creating suspense emerged. I plan to apply these not only to the suspenseful content from “The Black Dahlia”, but also to the opposite extreme, highly mundane content that can be rendered suspenseful.
1) WITHHOLDING INFORMATION/STALLING ACTION:
(see www.theblackdahlia.blogspot.com)
I realized suspense can be generated through this method in graphic design much as it is in films and novels. While this does involve playing with the voice of the narrator, it has more to do with manipulating the sequencing and amount of information within the fictional world being created.
I attempted this through literal obstruction in my “Black Dahlia” video clips. Light worked to reveal, and therefore conceal, key information on the screen. This became a study in controlling the pace and rhythm of this obstruction – so as to intrigue the viewer without shutting them out from some narrative thread. It brought up the important question regarding how a designer might create visual equivalents for ‘concealing’ information that function in written narrative. How can a typographic treatment of text communicate the sense in reading a book that the speaker is unreliable? How can the interaction between type and image on the screen – and the way one obscures another – communicate a state of suspension?
2) JUXTAPOSING POINTS OF VIEW:
(see www.blackdahliabook.blogspot.com)
This is a more subtle method for creating underlying suspense – and also creates the potential for suspense in the fictional world of the narrative. This relates to the above method in that it regards manipulating the voice of the narrator and allowing the effect of this to be visible in the resulting story. Working with more than one point of view in telling a story (in any form) works to emphasise the role of the narrator. It works to highlight the ‘frame’ a story sits within, to highlight the fact that the story is an artificial construct. Manipulating narratorial point of view creates suspense by bringing to the audience’s attention the friction between a story, and the telling of the story. The audience is not allowed the luxury of falling completely within a story, but is made aware of the edge line of the frame, the screen, the page, the story itself. This is ultimate suspense – audience suspension between the fictional experience and the real world, between these two states.
Juxtaposing two or three points of view creates this tension even more overtly, as I am attempting to do in my book adaptation of “The Black Dahlia”. By re-telling the story from various perspectives, the breadth of the original tale gets cracked wide open. The audience can tread the line between the fictional novel and non-fictional story at its core – and then be pulled back once again to realize they are hearing the voice of the author talking about his own life. It reminds me of the final scene in “The Wizard of Oz” when Dorothy wakes up in Kansas and realizes the world she thought existed was in fact fictional, though overlapped with the real world being inhabited by non-fictional characters.
3) CLUES:
The clue: a staple in every mystery narrative, essentially breaking a complete narrative into pieces that are only revealed to the audience gradually. Clues fuel the notion of stalling action – they re-enervate still points in the narrative flow and peak audience interest, make sense of confusion, and hint at what is to come. They are localized points of clarity amid a blurry landscape – that should function to give meaning to that blurry landscape, make some sense of what has passed and impel the audience to venture on. In my own graphic design adaptations, the scope/scale of a clue can be played with.
Whether it is an informational clue (footnote, caption), a clue to orient the audience (page number, street sign, chapter heading), or a more subtle clue to evoke emotional/tonal state (typographic treatment, colour, texture). In “The Black Dahlia” book and motion pieces, I have been dealing primarily with this third type of ‘clue’, degrading type to imply sense of voice, light functioning to create atmosphere and rhythm, etc. But more informational clues also work, such as hints of news clippings to convey time and place.
My use of how clues are slipped in and build up is of central concern – I am dealing mainly with repetition to build a logic to clues. The very use of the Anne Sexton quote to hinge my narrative upon is a clue in itself – a pointer to the main story rather than that actual story. Repeating sections of it creates a sense of emphasis, as well as building the visual narrative. The face of Elizabeth Short operates in the same way in the book version – but there what audiences think is a clue actually becomes repeated and distorted to the point that it becomes black and white marks on the page – perhaps a red herring.
Thinking about visual clues in this way might be helpful when I go back to the animated adaptations of “The Black Dahlia”.
SOME QUESTIONS:
The same question emerges from all methods – does following this rule in a graphic design context cause the intended effect? Is the act of reading an unreliable narrator speaking in a novel the same experience as distorting the legibility of this line of text in a motion sequence? Is the effect the same? Or does this ‘adaptation’ process corrupt the source content and fail to convey the ‘sense’ of the original?
Another important question is one of balancing how one handles methods for creating suspense – particularly the designer’s ability to draw a reader/viewer into a story, and then deliberately make them aware of the ‘frame’ of that story and pull them out of it? This movement in and out of the fictional narrative world being created can be key to creating a suspenseful viewing experience. The designer’s control of this movement/involvement is pivotal – by creating too disjointed a viewing experience one runs the risk of losing the viewer’s interest. But this same disjointed experience can create a heightened sense of drama and appreciation for the story being told. How can this balance be struck?
