Popular Culture Review Vol. 25, No. 1, Winter 2014 | Page 137

The Age of Innocence 133 films that “had some bearing on The Age o f Innocence: as an inspiration, as a source of stylistic or spiritual nourishment, even as a temporary tool .. . [M]ovies th a t. . . found their way, one way or another, into The Age o f Innocence" (Scorsese & Cocks 168). Explicit quotations of other films occur, for example, when Newland, while reading a devastating note from Ellen, is shown with a strip of light illuminating his eyes in imitation of similar lighting in Detour (1945) (Scorsese & Cocks) and in the three overlapping shots of May’s rising from her chair to tell Newland of her pregnancy (an announcement that puts an end to his love affair with Ellen), a borrowing from the plate-smashing scene in Eisenstein’s Potemkin (1925) (Christie).’ At these moments, viewers familiar with the earlier films recognize the allusions, while the rest of the audience sees, at a minimum, “unnatural” lighting unmotivated by the set design and “unnecessary” cuts in May’s movement. In either case, the maimer in which these instances were constructed is foregrounded, distracting the viewer fi"om the narrative thread that Hollywood continuity is designed to foreground. Moreover, among the self-conscious cinematic techniques Scorsese uses are ones that deliberately evoke not the time of the film’s diegesis or, as in the “cybernetic” long tracking shot of Newland walking through adjoining rooms, the time of the film’s production, but the time of the novel’s release: cinema’s silent era. Thus, on occasion Scorsese uses an iris or side wipe as the transition between scenes; in the scene in which all other diegetic sound fades down while Newland and Ellen converse in the theater box, the fade down is accompanied by an iris effect encircling the couple and thus separating them from their surroundings visually as well as aurally. In each of these instances, the audience is reminded of cinema as cinema, of the medium as a medium, and each such reminder is an instance of hypermediacy. Finally, on occasion, Scorsese’s remediation of painting highlights process and image in a self-conscious manner that calls attention to itself A scene in which Newland approaches Ellen in the Boston Common opens with a close-up of a painting-in-process of the Common which includes Ellen among the painted figures. The camera then pans from Ellen’s painted image to Ellen herself; she sits in a bucolic setting in which Scorsese’s staging of the extras pays obvious homage to George Seurat’s A Sunday Afternoon on la Grande Jatte (1884). This equation of Ellen and the film’s mise-en-scene to painting both remediates painting as cinematic image and “paints” the film’s