Making poetry

April is National Poetry Month in America - I'm envious, I want one of those here too. The event is kicked off on April 1 by the Poetry and The Creative Mind event, presented by the Academy of American Poets at Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Center. Amongst the creative minds attending the gala and taking part in readings is Maggie Gyllenhaal. But the image a month of poetry brings to my mind is that of Holden in The Good Girl reading his poetic efforts to Justine, or a young Jake mixing takes with reading 'dead white males' on the set of October Sky.


I remember Douglas quoting The Merchant of Venice in a North African country, showing how little times have changed, and I remember Hal finding poetry in a mathematical proof. Then there's Swoff resting on a pipeline, reading Julius Caesar, and there's Jack singing his drunken heart out about Water Walking Jesus. And I hear 'Cellar door', repeated over and over so it loses its prosaic meaning and is now the title of an ode.



I read an article about Walter Murch, the film editor of Jarhead, a man who also composed music and translated Italian poetry. And yet, to edit a scene, he would do it mute. But sound - and silence - is crucial in directing an audience's response to a scene or a situation in a film: 'To demonstrate, Murch flips on his computer, clicks the mouse a few times and instantly pulls up a scene from Jarhead. Swofford's character, played by Jake Gyllenhaal, is in combat for the first time and there's an artillery barrage. Everyone else ducks for cover, but he stands up. And the camera moves closer to him. Then, in the distance, there's a muffled explosion followed by dead silence.'


'This fleeting silence is a golden moment for an editor - a chance to put the audience right there on the battlefield. Jarhead's director, Sam Mendes, originally wanted that silence to stretch for several seconds. But Murch came up with a better idea. Pieces of dust and sand from the explosion hit the actor's face in slow motion. Then you hear the sound of the particles hitting his face. "My combat action has commenced," the character says. Murch says the tiniest of sounds can help create the sense of silence in a film. "By manipulating what you hear and how you hear it -- and what other things you don't hear -- you can not only help tell the story, you can help the audience get into the mind of the character," Murch says.'


So then you think of the forced and frustrated silence of cowboys on a mountain or in isolated towns, who, when they do speak, use the least words to convey the most feeling and the ignorant, misuse of language makes its own poetry.


Includes pictures from IHJ.