Written by Dharmesh


 

 

 

 

Head in a box.

The Marshmellow Man

A humungous star-ship travels overhead.

Singin' in the Rain - the rape scene

Alien bursts out of chest.

The helicopter rescue.

Superman chucks Zod into the coca-cola signage.

Newborn in 2001.

Snakes, why did it have to be Snakes.

Life is like a box of chocolates.

Le Royale with Cheese..

She was covered in petals.

McClane ejects out of an aircraft.

Rosebud.

A cop, and I was gonna share 50-50 with a cop.

Streaks of fire left behind when the Delorean vanishes.

A figure shimmers on the horizon.

Chess with Death.

Just a few snapshots we remember from great pictures. We are talking big, we are discussing iconic scenes.


David Fincher demanded that the head in the box be the ending, he had the foresight to know that in many years time people will not necessarily remember the name of the picture but will label it as the 'head in the box' movie. The producer, Aaron Kopelson reluctantly agreed after several weeks of intransigence.

Iconic scenes are important because they are the calling-card for a film, as demonstrated with Seven, not today but tomorrow. Studios are not just rubbing their fiscal-dried hands at the box-office numbers but video sales of tomorrow and beyond.


What exactly is an iconic scene?

It's usually something we have not seen before in another context.

Going back to Seven, it's finale is organic, yet, I was surprised when everything was unravelled. Why did it impact the audience?

Much earlier in the film, an important scene plays out in a café, where Sommerset agrees to meet Tracy Mills:
She talks of her despair in the city (hell) and the fact that she's lost her husband, who is drowning in the serial killer case. When she reveals that she's pregnant, Sommerset says "You spoil the child every chance you get." Tracy chokes up. She's so sweet and innocent that the audience feels empathy for her. The seed is sown. It's my favourite scene in the film for two reasons, Gwyneth Paltrow's acting is profoundly affecting, and though she has limited screen time, we learn everything about her in a few lines of dialogue. Character depth isn't necessarily about quantity but the quality, especially when dealing with secondary parts.

Without that vital scene, the big moment at the end wouldn't carry the weight. It might be remembered for a while but it wouldn't be half as meaningful without character depth.

In Alien, when John Hurt is impregnated with the alien, he's put into an sterile isolation room, feared dead. After a while he apparently recovers, but we feel uneasy because we know that something is going to happen. You can't have survived that without some internal effects. Then it happens, and we are absolutely terrified, we thought something would happen, but for it to burst out of the chest, man, that's unthinkable.

Noticed something familiar in these examples? A trend, perhaps? Yes, it's not the scene itself but the seed; something doesn't just happen, the suspense, for example, must have an origin so we feel uneasy as the film progresses to its big moment. It's the build-up, the tension stretching until it's on the verge of snapping. This leads us into…

The construction of the iconic scene.

It's difficult to pinpoint its origin, sometimes they stumble upon it, sometimes it's inherent in the original screenplay, but I think, in most cases it's a combination of all the elements that make film work, in other words, it's a collaboration of talent.

In films such as Super-hero adaptations, it's usually the unveiling of the hero, but other films, the big scene is not apparent at first; no one knows what will resonate with an audience. Because no one knows, Hollywood lives in fear, which is why they always prefer the tried and tested method - the re-make, the Apatow comedy, the super-heros etc.

Did anyone know that, "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship." Would become one of the most quoted lines in cinema history? No, I don't think so, but I'll take a stab at why it works:

Casablanca is about nobility, sacrifice is the greatest test of love. So at the end, when he says the immortal line, it resonates because the character performed a very noble act. Sure there are great moments in that picture, but the ending is profound, the culmination of what he was struggling with.

In Pulp Fiction, the aimless conversation in the car with Vincent and Jules is a great moment for three reasons, firstly, it's funny, secondly, we love the characters, and thirdly, the majority of the audience have never seen that before - a conversation that has no direction. It has the vibe of cinéma vérité; captured documentary style, it's like we are hanging with these guys, eavesdropping on their conversation. This sequence sets up the scene with the teens -- who are way out of their depth. We are led to believe that the hit-men are just ordinary guys, but when they unleash, we are thrown back. The whole "Say what again" sequence is terrifying and nail-biting. It's the iconic scene; the characters were set-up earlier in the car, seemingly normal. Again, it's the seed, but this time it contradicts their easy-going personality, which was established in the car.

Some will argue that Le Royale with cheese is the calling card, and this can be subjective, but for my money it's the sequence that follows.

As I said before, some of the best iconic scenes have rising tension, anticipation, and one of the best examples is in Superman.

It's night. We're in the Daily Planet - the office ants are zipping and slaloming between desks, rushing to meet deadlines for the morning edition.
Lois Lane is taking a helicopter flight.

It's windy outside. Pylons snap and wrap around the helicopter as it takes off. It crashes and lands lopsided off the building's edge.
Folks below notice the mayhem.

We are waiting for Clark Kent; where is he?

Lois is in deep peril as she struggles to break-free.

We, the audience, are panicking. We are involved.

And then the camera is fixed on the entrance.

Clark ambles out, notices Lois' hat on the ground, looks up, and sees the helicopter.

Pace intensifies. The audience's heartbeat rises, anticipating the change…
Clark eyes the telephone booth, no dice.
Lois hangs on for dear life.

Clark crosses the road and whizzes into the swivel doors.

Superman shoots into the air.
Lois falls
Superman grabs her.
Cue a variation of the Superman theme.
Double jeopardy - The rails give way, and the 'copter falls.
Superman grabs it and…
The SUPERMAN THEME plays triumphantly.
The people go nuts. We go nuts.

That's great writing, great directing, great music, great lighting, it's a collaborative locomotive at full speed, breaking through our boundaries.


In Superman II, I pointed out Superman chucking Zod into the coca-cola sign as an iconic moment, but you could say the return of our hero to face the villains is equally iconic. I prefer the latter because it's more eye-catching. It's the moment we've been waiting for.

In Superman III it's Superman vs Clark Kent. Sure the film has polarised the fans, but it's a big moment. Is it iconic? It isn't to a larger audience because the film is not highly rated. Amongst Superman fans? Yes it is.

Do infamous films have iconic scenes? I can't think of many bad films which have big scenes that an audience remembers. Is Die Hard 2 a bad film? It's not critically acclaimed, but there's a big audience for it. I like it, too, but it lacks the inventiveness of the original. When John ejects out of the aircraft, a huge, thunderous fireball licks his behind. Cartoony, yes, but everyone remembers that image. I guess it's iconic, no?

Then there are scenes which flower due to instinctive inventiveness.

The rape scene in Clockwork Orange was scripted, of course, but McDowall's 'Singing in the Rain' was ad-libbed.

Does every film need an iconic scene? No, for a start it's not an exact science. It's going to depend on the material, and many other factors which are out of this article's remit. But in short, it's important when you consider who your target audience is. A general audience have lazy, forgetful minds, they need prodding from their slumber, so we must trigger their sub-conscious. Iconic scenes can give your film the identity. How many people haven't seen Seventh Seal? I bet a good number know about the chess game with Death, though.

So we can deduce that most big Hollywood films have the call-card planned out, but there's room to manoeuvre, there has to be. The iconic scene doesn't need to be ad hoc but I think in certain genres, the scene must be organic in relation to the body of the film. It needs to be constructed from the ground-up. The majority of the iconic scenes come from original, never-seen-that-before plots. Stories are not original, but the execution should be, it's why we remember the big moments.

Even though I've underlined iconic scenes, they are nothing without a core story, plot, premise and everything else that's integral to making a great film. Balls without a dick is not gonna excite anyone, folks, and remember, film-making is collaborative no matter what New Wave French directors argued in the 60s.

 


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