I would consider myself, as much as I would consider most people in my generation, to be a video essay connoisseur. In Evan Puschak’s How YouTube Changed the Video Essay, he mentions that over 65% of people are visual learners. While it can be said that reading the written word allows for our imaginations to roam, the video essay can convey a point or argument differently. The video essay immerses us into the ideas the author intends to illustrate, with more creative control from the author. A major factor differentiating the video essay from the written one is the ability to use vocal inflections to convey sarcasm, emphasize specific words–or even pictures alone to communicate the message.

The video essay I chose is one I watch and rewatch often: Yugopnik’s “Why Leftists Can’t Enjoy Anything.” Yugopnik’s video essay style is relatively unique, honing a high level of visual chaos — fast-paced cuts, maximalist memes, and very unserious images while discussing very serious topics. The absurdity of the visuals he uses helps to push that argument: that much of what we accept as normal in society is anything but that. Additionally, his use of language is far more similar to how we speak out loud with one another, as opposed to the language we use to write academic papers. While anyone could listen to the audio of this video and understand the gist of his message, the use of images and video clips further pushes the audience’s connection with the message. He uses clips from widely known shows and movies to haphazardly thrown-together images that look like they were edited in Picsart, along with text that does not match the words being spoken. He has a clear understanding of what the dopamine-hungry mind needs to keep its attention.

https://dtc-wsuv.org/nellis23/htmlcinema/htmlcinema.html

Kirsanoff’s Brumes d’Automne is a profound vignette of a woman’s sorrowful, pensive state. It begins with shots of bodies of water, towering trees, and overcast skies, setting a melancholy tone that persists throughout the film. The rain picks up as the young woman sits by her burning fireplace and opens a letter. Disappointed by its contents, she places it in the fire, letting it burn. As her eyes drift from the blaze, she slowly looks into the camera, and a methodical blurring effect signifies that the scene is part of her memory.

She stands in a doorway, watching as a man—presumably her former partner—walks away. The scene cuts between shots of her staring longingly, the gate outside the house, and the man’s legs as he leaves. This sequence effectively captures the source of her sorrow. Following this, the montage style continues, showing the letter burning and charring, the rain intensifying outside, and her eyes glossing over as she holds back tears. The interplay of these images evokes a deep sense of melancholy that swells as the memory overtakes her.

The woman leaves her home, wearing a shawl and heels as she walks through mud and puddles. Around 7:45, the editing becomes especially impressive for its time. As she gazes over a large body of water, the film manipulates perspective, twisting the view to encapsulate her mystified state. The landscape continues to warp, indicating that she “can’t see straight.” The film is remarkably effective in allowing the viewer to understand and connect with the woman’s frame of mind. The combination of montage editing and natural scenery evokes far more emotion than if the film had relied solely on continuous editing.

My movements were a bit slow, so it’s slightly longer than 10 seconds.

Run Lola Run has an amalgam of eccentric, varying stylistic choices that create a chaotic yet captivating atmosphere, manipulating time and space in ways that are both disorienting and intriguing. Despite the seeming chaos, the film’s structure makes the narrative is easy to follow. The storyline is divided into 20-minute segments, each retaining central elements that anchor the audience’s understanding while altering specific details to keep them engaged and anticipating changes to the story. This repetition is a crucial part of building the narrative momentum, as it makes it easy to follow, while utilizing subtle differences and potential outcomes of each scenario. Continuity also helps the viewers comprehend the overarching narrative, in spite of the frequent shifts and chaotic energy. The recurring scenes of Lola running act as a visual thread that ties the segments together, providing a consistent rhythm. The repetition allows the film to explore various styles without losing coherence, enhancing the storytelling experience. The editing contributes to the film’s dynamic energy. Rapid, frequent cuts push the feeling of urgency of Lola’s quest, aligning the pacing of the visuals with the frantic tone. The editing helps to heighten the tension and immerse the audience in Lola’s high-stakes race against time. 

I am not able to get screencaps of the film right now, but will once I get access of the film.