Pictorial Beauty on the Screen

by Victor Oscar Freeburg

Perhaps the first test, in this hectic age of ours, is speed. The quicker we can see and interpret a thing after we begin looking at it, the more satisfied we are. Another test is ease, or freedom from fatigue. The less energy we expend in looking, the more pleased we are. Hence, if the several parts of a picture can be quickly and easily seen and related to each other, the picture as a whole may be considered beautiful, providing it satisfies certain other demands, which will be analyzed later on.

Now suppose that we are at the movies and that some pictorial moment from the flowing action is arrested in our minds. If we are critical and feel like analyzing the effect of that arrested moment we may well ask such questions as the following:

What portion of that picture did we look at first, and why? Was that the spot which the cinema composer desired us to see first? If not, how did he happen to mislead us and waste our time?

Where did our glances wander as we continued looking at the picture? Did they follow the lines which the cinema composer had mapped out? If not, what is wrong with his plan?

What part of the picture remains longest in memory? Does it coincide with the dramatic emphasis intended by the composer? If not, what caused the wrong accent?

Was the picture as a whole really beautiful to the eyes? If not, what made it displeasing?

Beginning with the first question, we may say that the attracting power of any portion of a picture depends upon many circumstances and conditions. For example, a patch of white on an area of dark will attract the eye, because it is natural for the eye to seek light in preference to dark. Hence, in the “still” from “Audrey” on [page 45] we see the woman first; then we see the tree trunks, the reflections in the water, and the person half hidden in the bushes to the left. It is also natural for the eye to catch and follow the longest line in a composition. Therefore the trunk of the fallen tree in this picture helps to lead the eye to the woman. It is, furthermore, natural for the eye to follow two or more lines to a point where they meet. Therefore this picture would have given more emphasis to the woman if she had been placed near the root of the tree trunk, where many lines converge.

The spectator in the theater should be enabled to see the central interest at the very first instant of projection. Hence when the picture is being taken, all lines of indication, gesture, draperies, etc., should be set, before the camera begins “shooting,” and these lines should connect up with the paths of previously moving objects, so that the spectator’s eyes may sweep at once to the central interest.

The need of this may be illustrated by a horrible example. Let us turn to the “still” on [page 55]. It is a safe bet that every one who looks at this picture will first see a long diagonal pole, one of the supports of the swing, because that is the longest, most striking line of the picture. The poles leaning together and the converging chains, though of no dramatic importance whatsoever, attract immediate attention to themselves, and also carry the eye to the two standing girls; which is clearly a mistake in composition, for the real interest evidently lies in the facial expressions of the man and woman, who are conversing with each other.

Students of pictorial design have discovered that, of all converging lines in a drawing, those which meet at right angles usually attract the eyes most strongly. Now if we look again at the “still” under discussion we will observe that there are many square corners in its composition, but that none of these angles coincide with any interest deserving of pictorial emphasis. Two of the strongest accents are at the square corners where the long pole and the brick curbing meet. Yet there is certainly no very exciting interest in that region. Hence our eyes wander thither in vain.