![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rinueIt annoys me how often, in a movie or TV show, someone gets hit in the mouth and then spits out blackish blood. The thinking here is that desaturated colors are serious/gritty/stylish. It's black or dark purplish red blood to show this punch was no laughing matter. This the darkness of super-dark violence, blackedy pow.
The problem with this is that although I have led a risk-avoidant life with very little exposure to physical injury, I have had major dental work. I have flossed too vigorously on occasion. I know what blood coming out of my mouth looks like, and it's bright red. Bright red and a little foamy because of my spit. Bright red blood isn't clowny or childish. It's blood. It's what fresh, oxygenated blood looks like. Watch a boxing match sometime. That stuff coming out of their mouths, noses, and facial abrasions is scarlet.
All you're telegraphing with that solemn black spume is that your actor is spitting out a dye pellet and is actually fine.
On a vaguely related note, I hate it when a character winds up and then just holds his fist there, not making the punch, and it's supposed to be this moment that terrifies and upsets another character, because the non-punching character is apparently overcome with emotion and is just barely stopping himself from punching.
Come on. We know he's never going to throw that punch. Character two knows he's never going to throw that punch. It feels like some guy saying to his friends "hold me back, hold me back." That is not a guy who is planning to fight. That is a display of pure ridiculousness. It's theatre, not threat. Nobody in an argument with somebody who says "hold me back" suddenly thinks "my god, his friends have to hold him back. I better run away and cringe in a corner and cry."
It's dumb. Not even a good actor can sell it. Not even Russell Crowe in the otherwise magnificent L.A. Confidential can sell it. It is not a thing, as far as I can tell, that happens in real life. If you are overcome enough with emotion that you're going to hit someone you love even though you despise violence, you are overcome. You're going to throw a punch or not; you're not going to be in the thrall of your amygdala for exactly long enough to get halfway through a punch and then suddenly have your higher cognitive function kick back in like Superman struggling manfully at the top of a cliff with a boulder. (The alternative fist-raising scenario is one in which you're not overcome with emotion, and you're raising your fist to say "I'm going to hit you if you come any closer." In which case, you're not holding yourself back, you're holding yourself ready.)
I think it's a case of writers wanting to have it both ways. They want the drama of "you hit me" without actually having to show a character hitting another character, because if you show a man hitting a woman or child you have to assume some of the audience is never going to forgive. It's a cheat. It's the equivalent of having everyone die but oh actually they were just in comas and actually they're fully recovered with no lingering medical effects.
The problem with this is that although I have led a risk-avoidant life with very little exposure to physical injury, I have had major dental work. I have flossed too vigorously on occasion. I know what blood coming out of my mouth looks like, and it's bright red. Bright red and a little foamy because of my spit. Bright red blood isn't clowny or childish. It's blood. It's what fresh, oxygenated blood looks like. Watch a boxing match sometime. That stuff coming out of their mouths, noses, and facial abrasions is scarlet.
All you're telegraphing with that solemn black spume is that your actor is spitting out a dye pellet and is actually fine.
On a vaguely related note, I hate it when a character winds up and then just holds his fist there, not making the punch, and it's supposed to be this moment that terrifies and upsets another character, because the non-punching character is apparently overcome with emotion and is just barely stopping himself from punching.
Come on. We know he's never going to throw that punch. Character two knows he's never going to throw that punch. It feels like some guy saying to his friends "hold me back, hold me back." That is not a guy who is planning to fight. That is a display of pure ridiculousness. It's theatre, not threat. Nobody in an argument with somebody who says "hold me back" suddenly thinks "my god, his friends have to hold him back. I better run away and cringe in a corner and cry."
It's dumb. Not even a good actor can sell it. Not even Russell Crowe in the otherwise magnificent L.A. Confidential can sell it. It is not a thing, as far as I can tell, that happens in real life. If you are overcome enough with emotion that you're going to hit someone you love even though you despise violence, you are overcome. You're going to throw a punch or not; you're not going to be in the thrall of your amygdala for exactly long enough to get halfway through a punch and then suddenly have your higher cognitive function kick back in like Superman struggling manfully at the top of a cliff with a boulder. (The alternative fist-raising scenario is one in which you're not overcome with emotion, and you're raising your fist to say "I'm going to hit you if you come any closer." In which case, you're not holding yourself back, you're holding yourself ready.)
I think it's a case of writers wanting to have it both ways. They want the drama of "you hit me" without actually having to show a character hitting another character, because if you show a man hitting a woman or child you have to assume some of the audience is never going to forgive. It's a cheat. It's the equivalent of having everyone die but oh actually they were just in comas and actually they're fully recovered with no lingering medical effects.
