Man On Fire: Vengence Recycled

Con
5 min readJan 31, 2023
A bullet is suspended in the air; as a hitman reloads his gun.

In Man On Fire, editing is more than a tool. It serves as part of the main character, reflecting the mental state of John Creasey (Denzel Washington). The editing in Man On Fire starts with establishing shots before overlaying shots with images using an unstable frame rate. There are many frantic hints of unease throughout the opening. Deciding to showcase the ordinary as horrific before heading into a compilation of kidnappings and a dialogue revealing their frequency.

The visuals are seen through an alcohol-induced haze; there is little clarity, and it effectively represents John Creasey’s insecurity. Was it the job that made him paranoid or the alcohol? Perhaps both. A constant element of this film is the use of dissolves throughout, serving as a reflection on the beauty and horrific nature of the world he is living in. Most of the film has a handheld nature — always shaking — always on edge. Especially towards the beginning, where he is trying to drink himself to death and finally gets the courage to pull the trigger, the gun jams instead. A lot of the clarity is stripped away; instead, it just jumps from one point of his frustration to another. Key aspects are highlighted with close-ups before jumping into a long shot. There is also a play with exposure in these sequences constantly going up and down as if it’s been tampered with in post.

Sounds are used to great effect and are often distorted to give the film more of a raw feeling. These sounds remain in the calmer parts of the film, constantly reminding the viewer that it’s not going to get better throughout the film. Only worse. An example of this is through the film, you’ll hear the laughter of a child, and although it does have a joyful appearance, the context it is used is unsettling and unnerves the viewer on what’s to come. Sound showcases a change in tone. The film will range from classical music to music that sounds like it belongs in a Nine Inch Nails album. These are used to help create breaks between the more erratic cuts. Although the style remains, the choice of music depicts what the audience sees on the screen. A great guitar rift starts calm during the film and becomes more chaotic after Lupita (Dakota Fanning) is kidnapped.

Subtitles are also used as more than to provide the audience with information; they are used to help enhance the story. The subtitles throughout the film will change the font to reflect the tone and the outcome regarding the character. The text will even strike and match up with any impact around the character. Sometimes the text is even hidden behind objects before it is revealed. The subtitles are even used the trigger freeze frames. This feels similar to how a comic strip operates; the director wants the words only to enhance the visuals. Instead of being just wasted space, he finds a dynamic way to create movement within them by having them pan throughout and dissolve into the background.

It is not long before the tone is fully established when a title card reads, “ There is one Kidnapping every 60 minutes in Latin America. 70% don’t survive.” With this, the film tells the viewer directly that this will not be a happy story. That something is going to and will go wrong. Freezing it on the screen and even changing the film’s colour to black and white showcases the significance of this quote.

The main takeaway from this film is the theme is reflected in the editing, reinforcing a sense of loss. Being very visceral in the way it shows emotions and the characters dealing with the impact of this decision. Denzel’s character John Creasey is the main perspective in this film. He drinks a lot and struggles with alcoholism, using alcohol to numb the pain. This is reflected through crossfades and even to the point of slowing down the frame rate to hold on to a moment a little long; this isn’t before moving the pace soon after. Key elements are highlighted through close-ups, and crossfades tend not to go over them too much.

The editing is there to represent the state of mind of John Creasey. He’s frazzled and on edge; the stylistic choices are used to reflect this. He drinks a lot and suffers from post-traumatic stress. With even the little things unnerving him towards the beginning of the film, every move and every sound anyone makes causes him to analyze the situation, trying to be as careful as he can be. Sequences are thrown out of order as John Creasey remembers them; even the pleasant memories earlier in the film are recycled to haunt him throughout the film. The audio is tweaked to symbolize reflections of the memories forever lost. The dissolves and overlays depict the haunting nature of the past and how John can never truly recover from it. Time moves as fast as life itself — minutes and days are blurred into seconds.

The colours contribute to the editing as the shift in colour suggests a different mood. A different mood is suggested depending on the colour or lack of colour. Especially with the film’s subtitles, even flashing the frame before freezing it and revealing the words before they are said. They are often mixed with jump cuts to progress through the events quickly. They serve to demonstrate a calm in the storm. Lowering the aesthetic when the character has calmed down. A grimy green hue is overlaid throughout the film, preventing clarity and often put over dutch angles. They reflect anxiety, depression and fear, allowing the viewer to sense his lack of focus and the adrenaline running through him.

Man On Fire’s editing reflects the alcoholism and anxiety the main character faces. Visuals haunt him, and joyful memories from his past become the very thing he fears. It is a chaotic, scattered, and disjointed view of PTSD, but perhaps it’s a view that is needed. Subtitles highlight final moments that are frozen and used for clarity — using the Spanish language as a character for the American audience rather than static displays of text. Man on Fire is what a film should be, a messy experiment with the audience’s perceptions of what a film can be. Nothing is wasted; instead, it’s recycled with a vengeance.

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Con

Everything I’m not. Made me everything that I am.