Research Post: The Power of Mise-en-Scène in Storytelling

Being in Rome has made me more aware of how every detail in a space contributes to storytelling. From the intricate frescoes in churches to the chaotic arrangement of market stalls, everything is deliberately placed, evoking mood, history, and culture. This has led me to think more deeply about *mise-en-scène*—a key media theory that explores how everything within the frame contributes to meaning.  

Mise-en-scène (French for “placing on stage”) refers to the arrangement of elements within a film scene, including set design, costume, lighting, composition, and actor movement. Directors like Alfred Hitchcock, Wong Kar-wai, and Andrei Tarkovsky use mise-en-scène to convey subtext, mood, and character psychology without relying on dialogue.  

## Space & Set Design: Creating Meaning Through Environment  

Rome itself feels like a carefully constructed set. The grandiosity of Vatican City inspires awe, while the narrow, winding streets of Trastevere feel intimate and lived-in. Similarly, in film, a setting can tell us everything about a character before they say a word. In *Parasite*, Bong Joon-ho uses vertical space—contrasting the opulent mansion of the wealthy Park family with the cramped semi-basement of the struggling Kim family—to visually communicate class disparity.  

### Practical Application:  

In my project, I want to think more intentionally about space. A cluttered room can symbolize a character’s mental state, while an empty hallway might evoke loneliness. The way characters move through a space—whether they dominate it or are overwhelmed by it—can visually reflect power dynamics.  

## Costume & Props: Visualizing Identity and Change  

Walking through Rome, I’ve been fascinated by how people present themselves—how fashion, accessories, and personal objects tell stories. In film, costume design and props function similarly. In *Joker*, Arthur Fleck’s costume evolves from dull, neutral tones to a striking red and yellow suit as he transforms into his violent persona. The umbrella in *In the Mood for Love* becomes a recurring prop, symbolizing missed connections and repressed emotions.  

### Practical Application:  

I want to explore how objects and clothing choices can reflect a character’s emotional arc. Perhaps a family heirloom changes hands throughout the story, gaining new meaning each time, or a character’s wardrobe subtly shifts to mirror their growth or decline.  

## Blocking & Actor Movement: Physicalizing Relationships  

Observing people in Rome, I’ve noticed how body language and positioning reveal unspoken dynamics—whether it’s lovers standing close together on a bridge or an isolated figure sitting alone in a crowded café. In film, blocking (the arrangement of actors within the frame) is a powerful storytelling tool. In *The Godfather*, Michael Corleone is often placed in the shadows, visually reinforcing his moral descent. In *Persona*, Ingmar Bergman uses extreme close proximity and mirroring between characters to emphasize psychological entanglement.  

### Practical Application:  

I want to experiment with blocking to show relationships. Characters sitting at opposite ends of a table could suggest emotional distance, while one character turning their back on another might signal rejection or secrecy. Small gestures—like a lingering glance or a hesitant step forward—can speak volumes.  

## Light & Color: Crafting Atmosphere and Emotion  

The way sunlight filters through Roman ruins or casts long shadows at dusk has made me more attuned to the emotional impact of lighting. In film, lighting choices create atmosphere and symbolism. Film noir’s high-contrast lighting reflects themes of crime and deception, while the golden glow of *Call Me by Your Name* evokes nostalgia and warmth. Color plays a similar role—Guillermo del Toro’s *Pan’s Labyrinth* contrasts cool, desaturated tones for reality with warm, rich hues for the protagonist’s fantasy world.  

### Practical Application:  

For my project, I want to use lighting to define emotional shifts. Soft, natural light might represent innocence or connection, while harsh fluorescent lighting could create discomfort. Adjusting color palettes—muted tones for present-day struggles, vibrant colors for memories—could reinforce emotional contrasts.  

## Next Steps  

As I continue my time in Rome, I plan to observe how mise-en-scène shapes real-world storytelling. I’ll take notes on how spaces, objects, and movement create meaning and apply these lessons to my project.  

Mise-en-scène reminds me that storytelling is more than words—it’s in the way a room is arranged, how a character moves, and the interplay of light and shadow. Every element in the frame has the potential to deepen the narrative, and I’m excited to refine my visual approach using these techniques.

Research Post: Visual Storytelling in the Eternal city

Being in Rome has deepened my appreciation for visual storytelling. Everywhere I look, the city tells a story—through its grand architecture, ancient ruins, and the way light falls on its cobblestone streets. Walking through the Colosseum, I think about how space and scale evoke power and spectacle, much like in cinema. The Pantheon, with its massive oculus, demonstrates how a single beam of light can transform a space, reminding me of how filmmakers use lighting to guide emotions and meaning.  

This environment has inspired me to continue my exploration of visual storytelling, particularly how filmmakers use space, architecture, and natural light to shape narrative.  

Space & Architecture: Framing Characters Within Their World  

Rome’s architecture is a masterclass in framing. The way archways lead the eye, how grand facades dwarf individuals, and how tight alleyways create intimacy—all of these principles apply to film composition. Directors like Federico Fellini, whose *La Dolce Vita* captures Rome’s beauty and chaos, use urban spaces to reflect character psychology. In *The Great Beauty*, Paolo Sorrentino presents Rome as a character itself, with wide, static shots that emphasize its grandeur and timelessness.  

Practical Application:  

In my project, I want to use locations not just as backgrounds but as active storytelling elements. Wide shots of open spaces could evoke loneliness or insignificance, while narrow, cluttered interiors might reflect a character’s emotional turmoil.  

Light & Shadow: The Drama of Natural Illumination  

One of the most striking things about Rome is how light transforms the city. The golden hour here is breathtaking, casting everything in a warm, nostalgic glow. At night, streetlights and flickering candles create deep shadows, reminiscent of Caravaggio’s chiaroscuro paintings. This contrast between light and dark is a technique that filmmakers have used for centuries to add emotional weight to a scene.  

Practical Application:  

I’m considering how different lighting conditions can affect mood. Soft, natural light could underscore moments of warmth and connection, while stark, high-contrast lighting might heighten tension. Inspired by Caravaggio, I also want to experiment with directional lighting to create a painterly effect.  

Motion & Time: The Rhythm of a City  

Rome moves at its own pace—sometimes frantic, sometimes leisurely. Watching people gather in piazzas or hurry past historic landmarks has made me think about how motion conveys narrative. Long, uninterrupted takes can capture a sense of place and time, while quick cuts or handheld movements can create a feeling of immediacy.  

Practical Application:  

I want to experiment with pacing in my cinematography. A slow-moving tracking shot could let the viewer take in the details of a setting, while a handheld sequence could immerse them in a character’s subjective experience.  

Symbols & Meaning: Layers of History in Every Frame  

Rome is layered with history, and every statue, fountain, or ruin carries meaning. The Trevi Fountain, for example, isn’t just a tourist attraction—it symbolizes dreams, fate, and the passing of time. This has made me more aware of how objects and settings in a frame can carry symbolic weight in storytelling.  

Practical Application:  

I’m thinking about incorporating recurring visual motifs in my project—maybe an object that holds personal significance to the characters, or a location that changes meaning over time. Subtle symbols can add layers to a story, making it more immersive and resonant.  

Next Steps  

As I continue my time in Rome, I plan to capture reference photos and videos that illustrate the techniques I’ve been studying. I want to analyze how natural light interacts with architecture, how movement shapes perception, and how framing can emphasize relationships between subjects and their surroundings.  

Rome has reminded me that storytelling isn’t just about what’s said—it’s about what’s seen. Just as this city’s history is embedded in every stone, a well-crafted film embeds meaning in every frame. I’m excited to apply these lessons to my own work and see how visual storytelling can deepen the emotional and thematic impact of my project.

Project update on possible summary

Now that I’ve settled on the general tone and genre for my project, I can start shaping the plot. I want to create a story that blends melancholic introspection with a sense of mystery—something that feels both intimate and surreal. This will definitely be a challenge for me, as I usually lean toward more straightforward narratives, but I think pushing myself into something more experimental will make for a stronger, more immersive piece.  

At its core, I want this to be a story about self-discovery, framed within a journey that feels just slightly off-kilter—like reality isn’t quite as stable as it seems. I’m drawn to the idea of a character on a trip, either alone or with a companion, where the places they visit seem to reflect their internal struggles. Not in an ominous or thriller-like way, but in a way that makes them question their own perceptions and memories.  

I know I want to incorporate an element of mystery, but not one centered on crime or danger. Instead, I want the mystery to be more personal—maybe a character searching for something they’ve lost, or following a trail of seemingly insignificant clues that lead them somewhere unexpected. Perhaps they keep encountering the same stranger in different places, or objects seem to appear before they even realize they need them. Maybe the journey itself isn’t linear, and time or space shifts subtly, forcing them to confront something they’ve been avoiding.  

There’s also something compelling about the idea of traveling to unfamiliar places and realizing they feel strangely familiar—like déjà vu, but deeper. I think I want to play with that sense of nostalgia for something the character can’t quite name.  

This concept gives me a lot of room to experiment with visuals—using framing, lighting, and movement to create a dreamlike quality without fully detaching from reality. I want to explore how the environment can act as both a setting and a reflection of the character’s emotional state.  

Now that I have a foundation, my next step is to map out the specifics: Who is my protagonist? What exactly are they searching for? And how does their journey—both external and internal—unfold? I’m excited to dive deeper into these questions and see where this story takes me.

Also inspired by my trip :)

Exploring Credit Sequences

While traveling In milan- Italy, I found myself thinking a lot about storytelling—how certain films immediately pull you in, setting up an atmosphere of intrigue from the very first frames. Mystery films, in particular, have some of the most compelling opening credit sequences, drawing the audience into their world before a single word of dialogue is spoken. I wanted to explore how filmmakers use these sequences to establish tone, foreshadow events, and immerse viewers in the story.  

I studied three famous opening credit sequences that stand out in the mystery genre: *Se7en* (1995), *Vertigo* (1958), and *Zodiac* (2007). Each of these openings takes a unique approach to setting the stage for the film’s unfolding mystery.  

Film Studies  

*Se7en* (1995) – The Psychotic Mind at Work  

David Fincher’s *Se7en* is known for its unsettling and meticulous credit sequence. Instead of traditional text on a blank background, the film immediately places us inside the mind of the killer. The credits play over a montage of handwritten notes, disturbing sketches, and photographs being developed in a darkroom. The jittery, distorted text (created using a technique called "scratched typography") adds to the eerie and obsessive atmosphere.  

**Takeaway:** The opening credits don’t just introduce the film’s aesthetic; they immerse us in the antagonist’s world before we even meet them. This technique is something I want to explore—how subtle visual cues in an opening sequence can create unease and foreshadow events without explicit exposition.  

### *Vertigo* (1958) – Hypnotic and Psychological  

Alfred Hitchcock’s *Vertigo* opens with one of the most visually iconic sequences in film history. Designed by Saul Bass, the credits begin with an extreme close-up of a woman’s eye before transitioning into swirling, spiraling graphics. The effect is hypnotic, perfectly capturing the themes of obsession, fear, and psychological instability that define the film. Bernard Herrmann’s haunting score heightens the sense of unease.  

**Takeaway:** A mystery doesn’t have to start with action—it can begin with a visual and auditory experience that puts the audience in the right psychological state. I love the idea of using abstract imagery to represent a character’s internal struggles or to hint at the film’s deeper themes.  

### *Zodiac* (2007) – The Slow Burn of Real-Life Horror  

Unlike *Se7en*, which throws viewers into the killer’s mind immediately, David Fincher’s *Zodiac* takes a more subtle approach. The opening credits unfold over an eerie, quiet Fourth of July night in 1969 as a couple drives through a suburban neighborhood. Everything seems normal, yet there’s a lingering sense of dread. The scene builds tension without a single jump scare or dramatic musical cue—it simply lets the audience sit in the unease of what’s coming.  

**Takeaway:** Sometimes, the most powerful way to start a mystery is with restraint. Rather than shocking the audience immediately, a slow, creeping tension can be just as effective. This makes me think about how small, seemingly ordinary moments in an opening sequence can carry an underlying weight, making the audience uneasy without them fully understanding why.  

## Next Steps  

Studying these films has given me a lot to think about in terms of how I want to approach my own project. I’m particularly drawn to the idea of using the opening credits not just as an introduction but as a way to establish mood, foreshadow key themes, and pull the audience into the world of the story.  

Moving forward, I plan to experiment with different visual styles and pacing techniques to see what works best for the tone I want to create. Whether it’s abstract imagery, a slow-building tension, or unsettling details hidden in plain sight, I want to craft an opening that immediately sets the stage for mystery.

Italy Pic :)

The Art Of Visual Storytelling

While traveling through Italy, I’ve found myself inspired not only by the breathtaking landscapes but also by the rich history of art and architecture. This trip has prompted me to think more deeply about visual storytelling—how filmmakers use composition, color, and movement to convey emotion and narrative without relying solely on dialogue. For this research post, I’ll explore the techniques of visual storytelling and how they can enhance the thematic depth and emotional impact of a film.  

 Composition & Framing: Guiding the Viewer’s Eye  

One of the first elements of visual storytelling is composition—how elements are arranged within the frame to guide the viewer’s focus and convey meaning. Directors like Wes Anderson and Stanley Kubrick are known for their meticulous framing. Anderson’s use of symmetry creates a sense of order and whimsy, while Kubrick’s centered compositions often create a feeling of unease or entrapment.  

Practical Application:  

In my project, I want to experiment with framing that reflects the characters' relationships and internal states. For example, placing characters on opposite sides of the frame can emphasize emotional distance, while tightly framing a character can convey isolation or anxiety.  

Color Theory: Setting Mood & Tone  

Color is another powerful tool in visual storytelling. Films like *Schindler’s List* and *In the Mood for Love* use color (or the absence of it) to highlight specific emotions or themes. In *Schindler’s List*, the girl in the red coat becomes a poignant symbol amidst the film’s stark black-and-white palette. Meanwhile, Wong Kar-wai’s *In the Mood for Love* uses deep reds and warm yellows to evoke longing and melancholy.  

Movement: Telling Stories Through Motion  

Camera movement can subtly influence how the audience perceives a scene. A slow zoom can create a sense of intimacy or foreboding, while a handheld, shaky camera can add realism or urgency. Alfonso Cuarón’s use of long, fluid takes in *Children of Men* immerses the viewer in the chaos and immediacy of the film’s dystopian world.  

Practical Application:  

I want to explore different types of camera movement to reflect the characters’ emotional states. A locked-down, static shot could emphasize a character’s feeling of being stuck, while a smooth dolly shot might convey a sense of hope or progression.  

Symbolism & Visual Metaphors  

Visual storytelling also includes the use of symbols and metaphors. In *The Shawshank Redemption*, Andy’s rock hammer and the poster of Raquel Welch serve as physical manifestations of his hope and determination. Similarly, Terrence Malick’s *The Tree of Life* uses recurring images of nature and the cosmos to explore themes of existence and grace.  

Practical Application:  

I’m interested in incorporating subtle visual metaphors that reveal more upon reflection. Perhaps a recurring image of a closed door could symbolize unspoken secrets, or a family heirloom could represent the weight of expectations and legacy.  

Next Steps  

As I continue to develop my project, I’ll experiment with these visual techniques to see how they can enhance the story’s emotional and thematic resonance. I plan to create a visual storyboard that incorporates different compositions, color schemes, and lighting setups to test their effectiveness in conveying the narrative.  

Exploring visual storytelling has reminded me that sometimes the most powerful moments in film are those that don’t need words—where a glance, a shadow, or a shift in color can speak volumes. As I move forward, I’m excited to see how these techniques can bring depth and nuance to my story.

ITALYYYY

Timeline Update: Adjusting for Italy

Creating a timeline early is key to finishing a long-term project successfully. Since I’m in Italy, I need to adjust my schedule to fit travel and potential delays. Here’s my updated plan:  

*Weeks 1-2 (2/13-2/26) – Research & Planning*

- Research film openings and story structures.  

- Finalize the movie plot and draft the script.  

- Location scouting for inspiration while traveling.  

*Week 3 (2/27-3/4) – Pre-Production*

- Storyboarding.  

- Secure filming locations and cast actors.  

- If possible, film establishing shots.  

*Week 4 (3/5-3/11) – Production*

- Film key scenes.  

- Record voiceovers and foley if needed.  

*Week 5 (3/12-3/18) – Editing* 

- Assemble the first cut.  

- Identify areas for improvement and re-record audio if needed.  

*Week 6 (3/19-3/25) – Revisions & Reflection*

- Re-edit and finalize the best version.  

- Draft and review the Critical Creative Reflection (CCR).  

*Week 7 (3/26-4/2) – Buffer Week*

- Final edits and finalizing the CCR.  

*Final Thoughts*

Since I’m traveling, I’m prioritizing research and scripting earlier while shifting production slightly later. The buffer week will help with any unexpected delays. Staying flexible while keeping on schedule is my main focus!

PS: Thank you to my amazing partner Maria to adjusting to my schedule :)

Film Studies

 

A lot has changed over the course of this trip—both in my personal life and in how I want to approach this project. While traveling through Italy, I found myself reflecting deeply on my family, my future, and what this story is really about. Originally, I planned for queerness to be the central theme, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that wasn’t quite right. My identity has shaped me, of course, and it influenced my home life, but it wasn’t always the biggest thing on my mind. The heart of this story lies in family—the tensions, the moments of connection, and the things left unsaid.  

During my travels, I also spent time studying different film openings, particularly those that establish character, tone, and relationships in an engaging way. Three films stood out to me: *50 First Dates*, *Mamma Mia!*, and *The Proposal*.  

Story Structure  

I originally considered structuring the story in a way that spanned different life stages but I’ve realized I don’t feel ready to write about a future version of myself that doesn’t exist yet. Instead, I want to focus on a smaller window of time, exploring the weight of the past while keeping the story grounded in the present.  

Film Openings & What I Learned  

Each of these films opens in a way that immediately establishes the protagonist’s personality and world.  

*50 First Dates*  

The film begins by showing multiple women recounting their experiences with Henry, played by Adam Sandler. Each woman describes an amazing romance, only for us to realize Henry never follows through—he’s only interested in short-term flings. This montage establishes Henry’s character in a lighthearted, engaging way before we even meet him directly.  

*Takeaway:* A strong opening doesn’t need to start with the protagonist in action—it can build their character through external perspectives. This made me consider whether I could open my story with the family discussing the protagonist before we actually meet them. It might be an interesting way to establish their place within the family dynamic.  

*Mamma Mia!*  

The movie opens with Sophie reading her mother’s old diary entries, setting up the central mystery of her father’s identity. The combination of voiceover, visuals of the Greek island, and Sophie’s excitement immediately establishes the film’s setting and conflict.  

*Takeaway:**Using letters, recordings, or indirect storytelling can quickly establish relationships and stakes. While I don’t want to use voiceover, I do like the idea of incorporating an object or piece of writing that hints at family history or tension—maybe something the protagonist brings home with them.  

*The Proposal*  

This film opens with a fast-paced sequence showing Margaret (Sandra Bullock) in her high-powered job. We quickly learn that she’s a demanding boss, and her assistant Andrew (Ryan Reynolds) is constantly scrambling to keep up. The dynamic is established in under two minutes, giving us immediate insight into their relationship.  

*Takeaway:*Movement and pacing are key to immersing the audience. While my story isn’t as fast-paced, I want to make sure the opening keeps the momentum going. I might consider using the protagonist’s train ride as a way to establish their mental state—showing their anxious energy through pacing, quick glances at their phone, or adjusting their backpack.  

Next Steps  

These films have helped me refine my approach—not just for the opening but for the overall tone of the story. Now that I’m focusing more on family, I want to explore more films that develop a strong supporting cast while keeping the protagonist at the center.  

I’m also interested in films about travel and transition—stories where movement plays a role in character development. Since the protagonist is coming home after time away, I want to explore how physical travel can mirror emotional shifts.  

By the end of the week, I’ll finalize a storyboard, plot breakdown. From there, I’ll refine my approach and prepare for production.