Rehearsals for Extinct Anatomies

The above is something that one could say about pretty much every stop-motion film from the Brothers Quay, but it comes to life here even moreso than other works by them. "Rehearsals for Extinct Anatomies" has a unique atmosphere which is interestingly unique compared to the other Quay films: "The Comb" was quite dark, as was "Street of Crocodiles" and their "Stille Nacht" series. Here, the feel is entirely its own, which is built thanks to the Brothers' excellent attention to detail and their ability to craft an atmosphere because of this effort of intricacy. Some marvelous techniques are on display that come to life anew, and although containing no traces of narrative (some Quay films actually do have elements of a story within them) these things are enough to sustain the fourteen-minute film.

"Rehearsals for Extinct Anatomies" has a number of things occurring within it, including a grotesque puppet stroking over and over a wart on its forehead, a flickering ball bouncing up and down a set of stairs, and a puppet laying in a bed in a room while another puppet watches over it. While these things are of little substance on their own, two main techniques really serve to bring it to life in a unique and fresh way: the usage of manual focus in the camera lens, and the movement of the camera itself. When zooming in on particular details, the camera often uses the focus of the lens as an opportunity to reveal the different layers of the shot, so that indistinguisable objects that the viewer was hardly aware of before are given attention without changing the camera angle. Likewise, to keep the scene of the puppets in the room interesting, the camera creates a theme of panning up and down and side to side to reveal different aspects of the scene, which are partially blocked by objects in the foreground that obscure what is going on in the room. Both techniques give the viewer somewhat of an idea of the composition of the whole place, but leaves a lot up to the imagination, which is what makes it so interesting and unique. It is also very difficult to describe in writing, which is why to really understand what I'm saying, it is best to go watch the film itself before things really click into place.

This gem is based on an ingenious irony: it is a puppet film, but what is the star? The one thing you are never supposed to see in puppet animation - Strings! There is a bouncing ball of string; the walls are lined with strings; the camera moves as if pulled by strings; and guess what instruments are on the soundtrack?

I perceive this film to be a watershed in the brother's oeuvre. The early films, including "Street of Crocodiles (1986)", owe much to Svankmajer, and in some respects are still made in his shadow.

I have rarely been as visually stimulated as I was during this film and its 11 minutes. The amazing focus shifts and the movement of the camera have such a visual aura around them it's difficult to exactly decipher why they are so effective cinematically. The most astonishing sequence is the one with the two puppets in the dark room, the camera moving horizontally to the right revealing a brightly lit corridor with a great set of stairs, then back to the dark room again, then moving vertically, then moving in the depth, dimensionally, then back again, then to the right, revealing another beautiful brightly lit structure, a hallway of sorts. This film exhibits not only brilliant use of light, it's a groundbreaking use of space and as such stands as one of the greatest film moments I know of (I really have to make a list of these).

Zeitgeist and BFI have released it in Regions 1 and 2 respectively, and it's basically the same release. It has this film both in its original aspect ratio of 16:9 widescreen as well as in Scope (2.35:1).