Screen Savour: The Art of Cinema by Deepa Rajan

Ever since I was old enough to go to the movies, I have always faithfully performed a necessary ritual. Reaching a bit before the film, I walk up and down the theatre halls, soaking up all the posters of movies- yet to be released, currently playing and of course, the classics.

For a cynic, movie posters are merely yet another kind of advertisement- a commercialized art form, with the essential purpose being to “sell” the movie. This is all completely accurate, with posters prominently displayed on billboards, in the lobby of your local movie theatre, in magazines, on the Internet, and even on the sides of buses- all to make sure that the largest possible number of people are rendered extremely curious, and thus end up watching the film itself.  Sexy images of the movie's most attractive actors and inclusion in bold of the “big” movie star names, designs, colours, and fonts reflecting the mood and tone of the film, and intriguing one liners- this is the essence of movie marketing, the tactics employed to persuade your average movie-goer.

Often forgotten is the fact that movie posters in themselves are pieces of art. They are the products of loving labour, and a great deal of thought and creative genius. If you look at some iconic movie posters, the effort made by the artist to lure the viewer in, to make them question and make them wonder is almost palpable. If movies are like a waking dream-world, movie posters are your invitation to that dream-world. And don’t they always say you should chase your dreams?

La Dolce Vita (1960), Federico Fellini

The film follows a gossip columnist as he makes his way through a seedy underworld of sex, booze and superficiality. In this poster by Georgio Olivetti, Anita Ekberg’s iconic blonde, curvaceous figure represents vanity and vitality and her pose of abandon strikes a chord with the lives of the characters in the film- careening out of control. A smoking Marcello Mastroianni is highlighted in dark hues of blue bringing out the disillusionment of his character, his expression solemn and pondering, fitting for a man who can no longer be surprised by the people around him.

Gone With the Wind (1939), Victor Fleming

The artwork in this poster is a veritable anthology of all the events in the film- the pre-civil war grandeur of Scarlett O’Hara’s plantation home Tara, the Yankee-Confederate struggle and Scarlett’s daring escape during the siege of Atlanta. Central to the poster however is Clark Gable’s smoldering intensity paralleled by Vivian Leigh’s swooning abandon. It provides a showcase of the unfortunate crackling chemistry between Scarlett and Rhett Butler, emphasized by the fiery background painted in rough brush strokes.

Mother India (1957), Mehboob Khan

In this remarkable masterpiece, several key elements of Indian society are succinctly depicted.  Nargis, as Radha, is shown as the epitome of the Indian woman that holds largely true even today- illiterate yet worldly, determined and strong. The plough on her back signifies the immense responsibilities she shoulders as both parent and sole bread-winner. It is also symbolic of the travails of the impoverished farmer- her expression denoting extreme physical effort and pain, despite which battles on.

Metropolis (1921), Fritz Lang

Metropolis, the first full-length science fiction (silent) film, is set in a futuristic city where a ruling class live in opulence while a literal underclass toil in a vast subterranean workshop. Heinz Schulz-Neudamm’s extremely influential brainchild, this poster is famed for its cityscape dominated by monumental skyscrapers and futuristic structures. The architectural influences are a studied mixture of German Expressionism, Modernism and Art Deco- all significantly ahead for that time. The machine-human is a forerunner of the Streamline Moderne style, which when applied to science fiction, came to be called Raygun Gothic. 

Vertigo (1958), Alfred Hitchcock


Nothing could have screamed “psychological thriller” louder than acclaimed graphic arts designer Saul Bass’s artwork. The poster is of a man and a woman spiralling into the eye of a vortex. The spiral is white and the man is solid black. The woman however is outlined, invoking images involving chalk outlines of bodies made by the police at a homicide site. The font in itself is a nervous one; the asymmetry giving the impression of instability. Switching from bold, heavy strokes to lighter ones, the font is conflicted, just like the characters in the film. In essence, a study in mystery.

Grindhouse (2007), Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez

Grindhouse is a combination of two films, inspired completely by the B grade film genres like horror, gore and spaghetti westerns of the 1970s. Just like the movie, the poster too is all-out. Planet Terror depicts a strong, fearless femme-fatale with a machine gun as a prosthetic leg. Death Proof features a black 1971 Chevy Nova, marked with an eerie skull- a portent of doom. The style of the artwork borrows distinctly from early comic book art, with emphasis on black, white and red, and the use of attention grabbing fonts, banners and exclamatory punctuation.

The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), James Whale

High-level artistry is evident in this poster- the faces are right out of a German Expressionist handbook, with structural close-ups, and irregular use shadows and colour. Probably the most recognizable motif of the film is the titular characters' noteworthy hair design (lightning bolt highlights), which in this case morphs into a wild flame, wrapping itself around her intended ‘groom’. This influential masterpiece of Gothic horror was a black and white film, so the artwork was crucial in establishing to the audience that Boris Karloff’s hapless ‘Monster’ was in fact green, setting the precedent for all later depictions of Frankenstein.