The best watch of the year is neither a stunning mechanical watch nor a bejeweled ultra-thin one. It is not made of gold, stainless steel or any advanced alloy. The best clock of the year is not a physical object, does not have any weight, and cannot be worn on the wrist or fitted with a strap. But it does show the viewer the exact time.
The best watch of the year did not win the Geneva horological prize (it may have qualified), but it did win the golden lion at the Venice film festival. In fact, The best watch of The year isn't a watch, but a 24-hour movie called The Clock.
Christian Marclay, the author of the film clock, is a visual artist, filmmaker and musician. Born in California in 1955, he attended the school of visual arts in Geneva (where he may have learned about clocks and developed an interest and confidence) and then traveled between New York and London.
Moments in real life
"" the clock" "is an outstanding art film. It's a clock that runs 24 hours and never stops, in sync with our real life. In other words, the screen time is the same as the screen time. The film is cut from fragments taken from thousands of films, and time-related material is drawn from around the world. The clock inside is a thousand pictures: wrist watch, stopwatch, pocket watch, clock (including Big Ben), wall clock in train stations, office buildings and factories, desktop clock, alarm clock, black forest cuckoo clock, clock on spacecraft dashboard, bomb timer, atomic clock, even hourglass and sundial.
These clocks were interpreted in a variety of ways. People break it up, explode it or turn it into a weapon (this scene is often seen in 007 movies). The gangster will time his watch before robbing the bank. They appear on the victim's wrist in broken form and are given as tokens of love, passed from father to son, disassembled, pawned, shaken, and checked to see if they are working properly.
Everything about life
Time, what time is, the passing of time - these things seem to be troubling people all the time. Under the tyranny of these clocks, people live, kiss, love, talk, fight, run, work, and indulge in the constant drip of time. As Marclay himself puts it: "the film clock is a monumental blockbuster." The multi-faced clock creates a tense atmosphere. We watch everyone race in real time on the road to death - and life - and it's all the more dizzying because the time on screen is the same for actors and viewers. In the inexorable march of time, in a section of interwoven voices, music and voices, there is a combination of weeping, joy, pain, fear and ecstasy.
Let me give you an example
Your watch and screen time are both 12:04. In a black and white scene, a ticket collector in the 1950s faces a large industrial instrument. He looked at his watch and waited to pull down the lever. The camera zooms in, zooms in on the dial (Hamilton) and shows 12:04. Then I saw two suspicious men in a place similar to a bank. The wall clock of the bank also showed 12:04. The other clock under a red light just past 12:04. In front of it, a man was speaking into a microphone, announcing the decline of the financial times stock index. Then we saw its close-up, red second hand pointing to 12:05, and then we heard "BBC radio news". The reporter took off the microphone and said with relief, "that was a moment ago!" Next, we see a specially written shot of the hands of Big Ben, showing the time as 12:05. A 1970s clock broadcast, playing light rock, shows digital time at 12:05 p.m. Next to the clock, a man's finger brushed the cocaine trail in the mirror, and we saw Richard deckell walking to his wardrobe, shirtless, singing along to the radio. The next shot was a pendulum swinging back and forth in a dark wooden box. Max von Sydow was leaning toward us, and when he heard the bell, he turned and looked at the Hebrew number on the clock just after 12:05. Just then, John Steed of the avengers walked out of a British villa, leaned coldly against his jaguar, pulled a watch from his vest pocket and pumped his eyes. The camera zooms in on the watch (like Mido) at almost 12:06. He heard the barking of a dog next to the trash can and turned his head. He went to the body lying on the ground and turned it over. Suddenly something caught his attention, and he looked up at us Next shot: the station's color clock shows 12:06. Meanwhile, Stephane Audran walked toward the window, opened it, leaned out and looked out into the distance with wide eyes. Change the lens. As we were in the English countryside in the 19th century, a man asked a frail duchess about the time. She turned to her sister and asked, "where is your beautiful diamond watch?" She replied, "I don't even wear a watch." The second hand of an industrial watch is ticking past noon: it's 12:0603 seconds now. Going back to the scene in the country, the sister said, "I can't stand the incessant clicking of it in my chest, can you?" The man looked embarrassed. The scene flashes again, this time in a bleak, dusty western town during the day. You can see the tension in Henry Fonda's anxious blue eyes as he slowly walks to a wooden porch. We can see a clock whose hands have dropped. What time is it now? The scene changes to a subway station. A young woman puts her suitcase on the ground and waits. Then a man walks over to her and says to her in a British accent, "hello, honey." This is 12 :07.
The film is 24 hours long. As one clockmaker put it, it was the film's "power store," and the editing was successful. It switches between hundreds and thousands of pieces, and manages to meld it into a coherent whole, complete with vision and hearing, and USES hypnosis. The obsession of time tempts us and pulls us into the rapids of life, with the same actresses repeating themselves in different scenes, but what we see is that they get older with time. There's always something going on - your stress level peaks at noon and flares up in the middle of the night, sending everything into a tailspin. Sometimes life is full of all kinds of dangers imaginable, and more days of peace and security are sure to follow. No matter when, no matter where, there is always a sense of urgency for time, urging us, constantly reminding us of its passing, and never relaxing.
The Clock: a watch or a philosophy class? Its scenes reflect The hours and seconds in The film The Clock, but behind it there is a sense of diffuse anxiety. Where are our paths? What are we doing? What's the time now? How much time do we have left? Time on screen and our time are common and consistent. We're in the movie. We are prisoners of time.
The Clock is a great movie, like a watch, always telling us The exact time.
The clockmaker's true masterpiece
The Clock is a wonderful, highly skilled work of art. Over the course of several years of production, Christian Marclay and his assistants watched thousands of films, compressed to 3,000 segments that made up the flesh and blood of the 24-hour film. Marclay organizes and classifies the clips and edits them all by himself. We can say The Clock is a very complex machine. Its editors on both the visual and auditory (sound is a perennial theme in Marclay's work) are well in place, with diverse content and higher prices. This movie is more than just a clock.
'The Clock,' which won The Venice film festival's best artist award, has won The young golden lion and many major international museums have paid for its rights. Christian Marclay synchronizes the actual time in cinema with the time in the film. This concept is the essence and highlight of his work, and only in this way can we truly appreciate the film.