Unfortunately, according to Morris, humans are not naturally inclined to detect these “milkshakes” for a variety of reasons. In the April 10th entry, he and Dan Levin, professor of psychology at Vanderbilt University, discuss the idea of continuity errors in cinema, the science behind our inability to process them, and the related consequences they carry in the realm of reality. Levin cites the Kuleshov experiments involving a compilation of shots taken in different locations around Moscow ripe with discrepancies in lighting and background. Because the event was coherent, the audience believed the shots were continuous and unadulterated.

Ultimately, if an audience is not consciously searching for continuity errors, they will most likely remain unnoticed. Morris also addresses a film entitled That Obscure Object of Desire directed by Bunuel, because Bunuel succeeded in what seems at first glance to be an utterly absurd feat: He has two different actresses playing the lead role, Conchita, and switches them throughout the movie. The process begins slowly, gradually pulling them closer together, until by the end of the film, he’s alternating each actress in every other scene. Many who saw the film failed to notice the character was played by two women.

How is this possible? We generally place more emphasis on following the narrative of a movie, rather than hunting for errors. In fact, doing the opposite can be a sign of mental illnesses, such as ADHD. In order to retain the attention of mentally sound audiences, however, Levin notes that narratives must make an appeal to people’s “beliefs, desires, and goals.” [2] Morris adds, “Usually, the errors are in a faulty simulacrum of reality, a movie. But can’t a movie also point out that we have in our minds a faulty simulacrum of the world?”[3] In the realm of news media, therefore, we may be drawn to kinds of coverage that reassure us that with patriotic determination, our most pressing problems will be solved, even in the absence of critical analysis of the evidence at hand. In Wag the Dog, for example, the fake war may have been waged against Albania, but the real war fought by the cast involved the avoidance of incriminating continuity errors that would have had destroyed the entire operation.

When reading Morris and Levin’s discussion of That Obscure Object of Desire, the first parallel that came to my mind was the eloquently executed switcheroo made by the Bush Administration to convince Americans that Iraq had a major hand in the 9/11 attacks. Obviously, the term “continuity error” seems quite underwhelming in this particular phenomenon. Alternately, Morris also argues that “our mental narratives prevent us from seeing evidence,” resulting in “a discrepancy between how we see the world and the evidence we have at hand.” [4] Thus, as discussed in last week’s GML by Libby Anker, the very first few hours of coverage following the attacks on 9/11 were unique in that a narrative had not yet been formed. Accordingly, those critical early moments may be the best tease of a snapshot of truth we have, even seven years later.

Essentially, if something is not in our internal catalog of reasonable expectations (like doctored photos or two actresses playing the same character), we tend to relinquish our understanding of events to narratives that are familiar, oddities be unconsciously damned. Levin cites the example accidents called “tractor-trailer under-rides.” [5] In this kind of collision, a semitrailer jackknifes cross a highway and another vehicle or vehicles will drive directly into or under the trailer, often causing death by capitation. Not surprisingly, due to the gruesome nature of these accidents, litigation is a common result. Itsurprising, however, that the corresponding investigations often show no signs of evasive driving maneuvers. When driving late at night on a highway in North Dakota, deer are always a legitimate threat, and hence, the site of my accident was filled with swerve marks – the threat made sense and I processed it accordingly. The operators of the vehicles that collide with the trailer usually drive directly into it, however, without any signs of resistance. Levin explains that “Our awareness of visual information is heavily contingent on the kinds of things we know to look for. And if something isn’t in that category, and we’re not trying to find it, it’s possible that we won’t be aware of it, even if it takes up a huge percentage of our visual field.”[6] Also, in light of Jay Rosen’s analysis from GML #4, I believe it may be possible to apply Levin’s idea that concepts arising from “left field” have the possibility of leaving our fields of perception entirely, with dangerous consequences in the global arena:

As a polar opposite, we fail to notice any significance in some images, such as the Helvetica font, because they are so ubiquitous and therefore no longer carry definitive meaning.

Ultimately, Morris explains,

Re-enactment is not so much a visual activity, as it is a conscious activity. It is the process through which we imagine and re-imagine the world around us. The important thing to remember is that everything we consciously experience is a re-enactment. Consciousness, itself, is a re-enactment of reality inside our heads. [7]

Because the brain isn’t terribly competent in processing the unfamiliar, we must form realities on the context of what we think we already know. These realities are often established through the already existing narratives we have come to expect and the cycle of passive acceptance and even disinformation survives. Thus, Morris’ re-enactments aid the quest for truth by showing, visually, how alternative scenarios may in fact be logical. We acknowledge details judged to have importance and relevance, but how can we know what is actually important or relevant in advance of making the judgment? Morris addresses this seemingly inescapable circularity throughout the entry. ( In a similar vein, Deborah Scranton’s advocacy of multiple ground-level narratives may circumvent the problem, as multiple participants give weight to different details based on their own experiences, leading to a more complete picture.) Consequently, rather than asking viewers to follow Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s call for a “willing suspension of disbelief” when watching a film, Morris asks us to fight our natural tendency to accept automatically the contents of the screen and enter a deeper dialogue within ourselves about what we believe [8].

Morris has been criticized by critics who believe documentary images ought to originate in the present without interference from the director. For an event in the past, however, he maintains that re-enactments a valuable, legitimate method of relating a story, though one must always remain vigilant for re-enactments produced with dishonest intent. Additionally, Morris’ interpretation of the importance of objects as details leads me to conclude that if a re-enactment is used in a documentary, it ought to be stated as such. Even with the best intensions, a re-enactment will never be cinema vèritè. A police report stating “suspect was last seen wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans” could be interpreted in several ways by a costuming department, for example. As trivial as it may sound, the effect of using Rock & Republic or Old Navy denim might have significance for people who notice such details, and therefore impact their own interpretation of the narrative.

In the April 3rd entry, he concludes by reminding us, “The brain is not a Reality-Recorder. There is no perfect replica of reality inside of our brains. The brain elides, confabulates, conflates, denies, suppresses, evades, confuses, and distorts. It has its own agenda and can even work at cross-purposes with our conscious selves.” [9] With our spotty memories, commonly misfiring synapses, and an innate desire for self-preservation, it would appear that those interested in seeking truth ought to use any ethically acceptable methods and resources available. Errol Morris’ use of re-enactment is a solid example of this. He does offer a warning however: “If seeing is believing, then we better be damn careful about what we show people, including ourselves – because regardless of what it is – we are likely to uncritically believe it.” [10] I uncritically believed what I saw the day at the therapist’s office, because at the very least, this possible component of “truth” didn’t involve broken glass or a flash of white light. It was a convenient detachment. When the stakes are higher, however, Morris’ insight into the matter is both timely and necessary.

Notes
[1] Errol Morris, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part One),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-one/
[2] Dan Levin, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part Two),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-two/
[3] Errol Morris, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part Two),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-two/
[4] Errol Morris, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part Two),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-two/
[5] Dan Levin, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part Two),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-two/
[6] Dan Levin, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part Two),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-two/
[7] Errol Morris, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part Two),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-two/
[8] Errol Morris, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part One),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-one/
[9] Errol Morris, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part One),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-one/
[10] Errol Morris, “Play It Again, Sam (Re-enactments, Part One),” New York Times 10 Apr. 2008.http://morris.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/10/play-it-again-sam-re-enactments-part-one/