Tony Buba uses a number of innovative techniques in Lightning Over Braddock: A Rustbowl Fantasy that are quite remarkable for documentary film. He plays with the genre expectations of the audience by interweaving staged performances which could be considered fictional throughout the film. This is only one aspect of the many reflexive techniques he uses, which not only make the audience aware of their own position in watching the film, but contribute to a self-critique of both the film, and Buba’s own autobiographical presence in the film.
Buba brings a sense of authenticity to his film by his use of a personal and autobiographical presence. The opening shot of Lightning Over Braddock establishes this perspective by showing a postcard of Buba himself, in a setting very much identifiable as a part of Braddock, writing a personal note to his brother. The content of this note, which regards the creation of this very film we are watching, becomes the first of many self-referential happenings to follow.
In a recursively nested interview with Buba later on in the film, he states that he would much rather let the subjective voices of people involved in the subject he was documenting speak for their authentic selves, rather than drown out their voices with the “omniscient narrator” style of conveyance typical with much documentary film. This attitude is reflected in a larger sense with the function of his own identity within the film as an individual affected by the issues of economic downfall, rather than as an objective outsider theoretically capable of making logical and unaffected judgments. “This personal and public perspective … provides the filmmaker with a moral authority that enables him to critique his hometown’s conditions” (Lane 141). This autobiographical strategical approach to documentary seems to lend a unique authenticity not present in much other conventional documentary.
The constant barrage of pseudo-fictional acted scenes interwoven throughout the film could work on some level to counteract this authenticity by evoking insecurity and lack of trust in the sincerity of Tony Buba as the central narrator of this issue. However, since the fictive scenes primarily don’t poke fun at or otherwise detract from the moments of sincere subject matter, they could reasonably be seen as contributing to a form of ironical self-critique on the larger documentary form itself. Many of the fictional or acted scenes involving Sal seem to be at odds with the documentary that the Buba presence in the film is attempting to create. The inclusion of these scenes by the Buba who is the author of the film as a whole seems to signify a self-critique, which functions as a reflexive attribute in addition to the humorous results of this technique. “The film renders Sal’s portrayal ambiguous, functioning as a site at which fiction and documentary discourses conflate. This conflation subtends the film’s third voice, and systematically questions documentary’s ability to represent the world” (Lane 142).
Buba’s autobiographical presence in the film, much in contrast to some of the previous autobiographical work we’ve viewed this quarter, is primarily self-referential and ironic. An example is Buba’s repeated technique of featuring himself as subject by replaying his interviews with the local news station. He imitates his interview words with live voiceover, and then allows his words in the interview to play on while his voiceover continues. “This gesture is repeated frequently and is an additional way in which the film ironizes the autobiographical subject” (Lane 142). Rather than emphasize the negative aspects of self-preoccupation that could go with a serious portrayal of himself, this technique functions to ironically make light of his own role as documentarian, and serves to facilitate a questioning of the verity of the film as a whole on the part of the audience.
If there is one thing that I will definitely take away from being immersed in the cinema of Tony Buba, it is the positive attributes which can be had from having a tendency to laugh and poke fun at yourself. This is an especially refreshing attitude to take in the genre of autobiography, which is often somber and seemingly lacking in playfulness. I think some of the most successful and compelling points are made when you are able to step back and look at yourself or your own role in something with a humorous or ironic slant.
My papers are conceptually superficial, but this attribute is disguised under layer upon layer of smarmy prose. For this, I apologize.
Tony Buba: Fictive Humor as a Reflexive Self-Critique
Tony Buba uses a number of innovative techniques in Lightning Over Braddock: A Rustbowl Fantasy that are quite remarkable for documentary film. He plays with the genre expectations of the audience by interweaving staged performances which could be considered fictional throughout the film. This is only one aspect of the many reflexive techniques he uses, which not only make the audience aware of their own position in watching the film, but contribute to a self-critique of both the film, and Buba’s own autobiographical presence in the film.
Buba brings a sense of authenticity to his film by his use of a personal and autobiographical presence. The opening shot of Lightning Over Braddock establishes this perspective by showing a postcard of Buba himself, in a setting very much identifiable as a part of Braddock, writing a personal note to his brother. The content of this note, which regards the creation of this very film we are watching, becomes the first of many self-referential happenings to follow.
In a recursively nested interview with Buba later on in the film, he states that he would much rather let the subjective voices of people involved in the subject he was documenting speak for their authentic selves, rather than drown out their voices with the “omniscient narrator” style of conveyance typical with much documentary film. This attitude is reflected in a larger sense with the function of his own identity within the film as an individual affected by the issues of economic downfall, rather than as an objective outsider theoretically capable of making logical and unaffected judgments. “This personal and public perspective … provides the filmmaker with a moral authority that enables him to critique his hometown’s conditions” (Lane 141). This autobiographical strategical approach to documentary seems to lend a unique authenticity not present in much other conventional documentary.
The constant barrage of pseudo-fictional acted scenes interwoven throughout the film could work on some level to counteract this authenticity by evoking insecurity and lack of trust in the sincerity of Tony Buba as the central narrator of this issue. However, since the fictive scenes primarily don’t poke fun at or otherwise detract from the moments of sincere subject matter, they could reasonably be seen as contributing to a form of ironical self-critique on the larger documentary form itself. Many of the fictional or acted scenes involving Sal seem to be at odds with the documentary that the Buba presence in the film is attempting to create. The inclusion of these scenes by the Buba who is the author of the film as a whole seems to signify a self-critique, which functions as a reflexive attribute in addition to the humorous results of this technique. “The film renders Sal’s portrayal ambiguous, functioning as a site at which fiction and documentary discourses conflate. This conflation subtends the film’s third voice, and systematically questions documentary’s ability to represent the world” (Lane 142).
Buba’s autobiographical presence in the film, much in contrast to some of the previous autobiographical work we’ve viewed this quarter, is primarily self-referential and ironic. An example is Buba’s repeated technique of featuring himself as subject by replaying his interviews with the local news station. He imitates his interview words with live voiceover, and then allows his words in the interview to play on while his voiceover continues. “This gesture is repeated frequently and is an additional way in which the film ironizes the autobiographical subject” (Lane 142). Rather than emphasize the negative aspects of self-preoccupation that could go with a serious portrayal of himself, this technique functions to ironically make light of his own role as documentarian, and serves to facilitate a questioning of the verity of the film as a whole on the part of the audience.
If there is one thing that I will definitely take away from being immersed in the cinema of Tony Buba, it is the positive attributes which can be had from having a tendency to laugh and poke fun at yourself. This is an especially refreshing attitude to take in the genre of autobiography, which is often somber and seemingly lacking in playfulness. I think some of the most successful and compelling points are made when you are able to step back and look at yourself or your own role in something with a humorous or ironic slant.
My papers are conceptually superficial, but this attribute is disguised under layer upon layer of smarmy prose. For this, I apologize.