INTRODUCTION Looking at various newspapers, magazines and websites over the period 2004 to the present, it becomes apparent that our understanding of the reintroduction of stereoscopy (D3D) is anything but clear. There are disagreements among accounts of D3D regarding its artistic value, and its impact on the entertainment industry and audience. Over the 2004 to the present period, the digital screen period, I have seen D3D cast as an evolutionary step for the industry: ‘Why wouldn’t we want this Darwinian edge in our workplaces, in our sports and entertainment, in all our peak visual experiences?’ (Cameron in Cohen, 2008). I have seen it described as ‘the next great revolution’ of cinema (Giles & Katzenberg, 2010, p. 10) and as a facilitator of art, one that could aid the audience to enter the realm of the on-screen performer (Wenders in James, 2011, p. 22). I have also seen it described as artistically limited, with claims, such as, director, Werner Herzog’s ‘[that] you can shoot a porno film in 3D, but you cannot film a romantic comedy in 3D’ (Herzog in Wigley, 2011, p. 29). Newspaper headlines have described it as a health concern: ‘3D film strikes two movie-goers with bout of motion sickness’ (Helliwell, 2010, p. 2).2 As well, I have seen arguments expounding the idea that stereoscopy’s reintroduction is simply evidence that the popular film industry lacks ideas. For example, popular film critic, Roger Ebert, has argued that D3D was just ‘[a]nother Hollywood infatuation with a technology that was already pointless when their grandfathers played with stereoscopes’ (Ebert, 2010a). Elsewhere, I have seen D3D cast as a business innovation rather than an artistic innovation. Neil Shoebridge, in the Australian Financial Review, considers that it has the potential to stabilise the popular film industry, in particular the exhibition sector (Shoebridge, 2010, p. 41). In contrast, Mark Kermode, film critic for The Guardian newspaper, claims that the innovation is illustrative of the fact that stereoscopy’s return is ‘a con designed entirely to protect the bloated bank balances of buck-hungry Hollywood producers’ (Kermode, 2010). So, what to 2 In the days after this headline I scoured the news for a follow-up article on the condition of the ‘movie-goers’ as well as any anecdotal evidence of clarifying the connection between their ‘motion sickness’ and the use of D3D. I found no updates. 1 think? Since 2004, I have witnessed each of these views, convinced of one argument before being convinced of another. There is a need for further inquiry into D3D, its relationship to the entertainment industry, specifically film, and its significance in the digital screen period. This thesis is an attempt to better understand D3D, correct false assumptions, and clarify ideas concerning D3D adoption and integration. Its particular focus is trained on the screen technology’s development; its integration into diverse approaches to film aesthetics, visual techniques and visual styles; and in relation to the major contextual factors at play during the digital screen period, 2004 to the present. The question that it explores and answers is, ‘How are we to understand the significance of cinematic stereoscopy in the digital screen period?’ D3D Technology and its Relationship to Visual Technique and Visual Style To begin answering this question one must start with a basic and agreed upon definition of what stereoscopy is: stereoscopy is fundamentally a technology. It is a technology that is used to construct two different images for the right and left eyes. When these images are fused together by the brain they make an image with more vivid spatial depth, that is, a stereoscopic image. In some cases, the stereoscopic image is produced via an analogue process, which includes two lenses positioned at slightly different angles that focus light onto a celluloid strip. This strip runs through a camera and records an optical image. In the case of a digital process, the celluloid strip is replaced with an image sensor. The sensor records the stereoscopic image in the same way as the celluloid strip but differs by converting the optical image into a digital image made up of ones and zeros. Both analogue and digital stereoscopy (that is, D3D) processes are referred to as ‘natural’ stereoscopy. ‘Natural’ exists in contrast to ‘rendered’ and ‘converted’ forms of stereoscopic image production. The latter types of stereoscopy are designed and produced by visual-effects artists, via computers and computer programs, essentially changing the two-dimensional image into a stereoscopic image. Whatever type of stereoscopy it may be, whether it is natural, rendered or converted, stereoscopy is a technology-based process which has a relationship to the production of visual techniques and styles. In other 2 words, stereoscopy is a way for image-makers to create forms of representation and expression. In this way, D3D’s general aesthetic sometimes differs, albeit slightly, from non-stereoscopic, conventional aesthetic production and techniques and visual styles. Conversely, it is sometimes the same. These differences are not always obvious. Many of the visual techniques and visual styles that function in conventional production function similarly in D3D production. Most close-up shots in D3D are similar to close-up shots in conventional production; most crane shots and tilts in D3D production are the same as the crane shots and tilts in conventional production; and so on. The distinction between D3D and conventional production is not always easy to make. The integration of D3D into a production, with D3D’s ability to produce extra depth, has often been cited as a reason why fast cutting in stereoscopic films is problematic. Philip Sandifer, has argued this point and so too has popular film critic, Roger Ebert (Ebert, 2010a; Sandifer, 2011, p. 73). For Sandifer and Ebert, the problem is to do with the audience’s position in relation to the screen space. They argue that a fast cut scene means the audience must decipher waves of spatial information and reconfigure their relation to the screen space in short periods of time. This process is a much more acute issue in stereoscopy. For Sandifer, the consequence of this process is that ‘basic conventions of continuity editing … become untenable’ (p. 73). In this instance conventional techniques are said to have been altered, if unrecognisably to a cinema-going audience, by the uptake of stereoscopy. A similar conclusion can be made in regard to other techniques that similarly ask the audience to reconfigure their position in relation to the screen space. A whip pan, for instance, might easily convey a sense of urgency; however, in stereoscopy, the fast movement can cause a disruption to the viewing experience via the change in spatial context that is similar to a fast cut. As Sandifer notes, there is a discernible difference between D3D and conventional production based upon the various principles and characteristics of the screen technology. Tracking the ways that stereoscopic technology relates to the industry’s conventional techniques and visual styles, and its grammar and rules, is a key element in answering the question, ‘how are we to understand stereoscopy’s significance in the digital period?’ 3 Analysing D3D’s relationship to conventional aesthetic characteristics provokes a series of important sub-questions. For example, ‘How does stereoscopy in the digital screen period change the way that screen productions are made?’ ‘Is perspective, shot size or cutting rate different in D3D than in conventional productions?’ Answering these sub-questions contributes to answering the broader questions about D3D’s aesthetic, such as ‘In what ways is it similar and different to conventional production?’, and, significantly, ‘How does stereoscopic screen technology relate to the production of visual technique and visual style?’ As one might expect, the answers to each of these sub- questions extend beyond basic measurements of shots or cuts; the answers also depend on the array of contextual factors that exist in the digital screen period. Factors Shaping the Relationship of D3D Technology and Visual Style There are a number of significant contextual factors that shape the relationship between stereoscopic screen technology, and visual techniques and visual styles. They include D3D’s commercial affordances across production, distribution and exhibition, particularly as a means of product differentiation; its adoption by auteur filmmakers who have their own history, oeuvre, and visual style; D3D’s growth in various genres, such as documentary; stereoscopy’s own history in the popular film industry; audience reception of D3D films; and so on. In the thesis argument, these factors shape how the screen technology is ultimately integrated into a production in a particular shot, in editing, and in a scene. As well, they illustrate some of the broader trends in film. One of the major contextual factors is entertainment franchises – ‘a perennially extensible network of content in the service of several wide-reaching culture industries’ (Johnson in Staiger & Hake, 2009, p. 14). Franchise productions have come to dominate popular entertainment output, most clearly in regard to film. D3D is a notable element of this output, a logical inclusion in production when considering that the connection between franchises and D3D offers a range of technological, commercial, and aesthetic results. It reinforces the ability of franchise productions, via a clear marketable point of difference, to maximise intellectual property (IP) revenues; it helps productions to spread 4 stories and characters across several markets and several platforms; and it illustrates the shape, size and space of cinematic worlds. What is particularly significant about the function of D3D in franchises is the different applications that D3D has in creating marketable points of difference. This use particularly relates to the competition between one firm’s production and another firm’s, so that the franchise with D3D creates a significant product differentiation from its rivals.