May December is a slow movie, and that’s great. Apart from Natalie Portman’s popular monologue, in which she breaks the fourth wall and stares at us for a continuous three minutes and 45 seconds, the movie has several shots that are extremely long. The next-longest shot is two minutes and 45 seconds-long, a scene in which Portman is joined by Julianne Moore while Piper Curda tries out dresses for her character’s graduation ceremony. Most shots in the movie with any conversations are like this – slowly moving, if not absolutely still, and averaging above 40 seconds before cutting to another. In fact, of the movie’s runtime (one hour and 53 minutes) almost 30 minutes (a quarter) are shots like this.
Why does that matter? After all, it belies trends around the world. According to psychologist James Cutter, who published a study in 2010 on the timespan of film shots over the last century, the average length of a shot in English-language films has dropped from 12 seconds in 1930 to two and a half seconds today. Superhero movies, notorious for having “theme park” hyperactivity, tend to dominate the global box office, not least because of a camera that rarely stays still, constantly roving around the punches, explosions and flights. On a list of highest-grossing movies around the world, you’re likely to find action and fantasy movies, genres which have a reputation for being “fast” — movies in which “something happens”. The focus is less on individual characters and more on spectacle. Not so much on fixing a camera on Jr NTR’s face as zooming out for his explosive entry into a government compound. Not so much on SRK’s smudged wrinkles as the punches he throws atop a bullet-train.
There’s nothing wrong with this, of course. Fast movies are fun. But there’s a case to be made for slow movies — movies in which expressions are the centrepiece, not explosions. In which you’re forced to pay attention because all that’s really happening is people standing around and talking, i.e., life.
In May December’s trial room scene, we are looking in far from the action — the camera (our POV) is still, poised on the three actors. Portman and Moore are slumped on the bench; their conversation is relaxed. Curda (playing Moore’s daughter) walks, frowning, into the shot, wearing a sleeved-dress she doesn’t like, and returns to the trial room. While she changes, the conversation between Portman and Moore becomes tense. Curda returns at a brisk walk, loving the new sleeveless dress. Moore says, “I wanna commend you for being so brave and showing your arms like that… Just not care about unrealistic beauty standards.” Portman’s expression goes from surprise to sympathy to a smile in the span of five seconds. Curda’s eyes dart between her and her mother, embarrassed by this backhanded compliment in front of a stranger. She rushes to the trial room. The two return to their conversation, but the mood is palpably different. Note: In all this time (two minutes and 45 seconds) the camera hasn’t moved once, and there isn’t a single closeup or cutaway. The film expects you to pay attention every second of the way.
Such efficiency is rare in filmmaking. In interviews, director Todd Haynes and cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt have discussed the meticulous set design necessary for the scene. This is a far cry from how most popular films are edited today, with extra footage shot to be rearranged post-production, green-screens around actors that can conjure any background, scripts being rewritten after the actors have packed up and gone home. This results in bland, forgettable, expensive movies with uninspired performances. You need to be on the set to do what Portman, Moore and Curda did in the trial room. You need to prepare for and utilise every second of an audience’s attention, the time they have taken out of their busy days, and dedicated to you. Fast movies are good for kicks, but slow movies are good for you.
May December lost out on all the acting nominations for which it was a favourite in this year’s Academy Awards. It landed only in the (much-deserved) original screenplay category, proving how crucial efficient storytelling is to the process. Still, many slow movies have made the cut in multiple categories: Past Lives, Anatomy of a Fall, The Zone of Interest, Killers of the Flower Moon and Maestro. Give them a shot if you haven’t already. Some may surprise you with your attention’s abilities.
