Living in a time and place that moves faster than ever; ultimately, we end up with less. Lutz Koepnick suggests that subsequently we experience less substance, depth, meaning, freedom, and spontaneity.1 Koepnick’s claim can be related to the dominant Hollywood model of filmmaking, which, for David Bordwell, is “always fast, seldom cheap and usually out of control.”2

Filmmakers such as Chantal Akerman, Lisandro Alonso, Abbas Kiarostami, Béla Tarr and Gus Van Sant (to name but a few) counter dominant Hollywood films with ‘Slow Cinema’. A relatively new term that, as Tiago de Luca and Nuno Barradas Jorge point out, evolved from Michel Ciment in 2003 who coined the expression ‘Cinema of Slowness’.3 Characteristics of slow cinema as outlined by Matthew Flanagan are: “an emphasis upon extended duration (in both formal and thematic aspects); an audio-visual depiction of stillness and everydayness; […] long [takes]; [and] a slow or undramatic form of narration.”4 For Flanagan, the works of the above directors, “constitutes a cinema which compels us to retreat from a culture of speed, modify our expectations of filmic narration and physically attune to a more deliberate rhythm.”5

Adhering to the tropes of slow cinema is the American independent filmmaker Kelly Reichardt, who explains that she works to her own clock and rhythms.6 She argues that “our sense of time has changed […] dramatically” and there are “expectations about time in cinema in the U.S.”7 Reichardt’s oeuvre moves at a slow pace, where her narratives, as Elena Gorfinkel notes, “perambulate and get lost with the wanderers […] drifters and the socially displaced.”8 Reichardt’s forth feature film, Meek’s Cutoff (2010), is of no exception, and can therefore be placed alongside the works of Akerman et al.

Based on true events, Meek’s Cutoff charts three families and their raconteur guide, Stephen Meek (Bruce Greenwood), in 1845 as they cross the Oregon desert in search of a place to settle. The film is frequently related to the ‘Road Movie’ genre, as per Reichardt’s previous films, Wendy and Lucy (2008) and Old Joy (2006). Moreover, Meek’s Cutoff is repeatedly placed within the ‘Western’ genre and has been awarded monikers such as “anti-Western”9 and “indie-Western”10 to name just two. However, speaking to Anne Thompson of IndieWire, Reichardt asserts that she tried to keep away from Westerns, and states that Meek’s Cutoff is “a desert poem, more like Nanook of the North [Robert J. Flaherty,1922], than a Western.”11 Of course, Nanook of the North was greatly admired by André Bazin, who likened Flaherty’s long-takes to “waiting periods.”12 Geoff King argues that Meek’s Cutoff’s style is “relatively slow”. 13 Granted, Meek’s Cutoff’s long-takes do not have an average shot length (ASL) of the films of Béla Tarr for example, where the ASL in Sátántangó (Satantango, Béla Tarr, 1994) is approximately 2.5 minutes and A Torinói Ló (The Turin Horse, Béla Tarr, 2011) has an ASL of over five minutes. However, Reichardt succeeds in slowing her images down twofold with the use of diegetic and non-diegetic sounds and specific film form. This in turn counters, and often negates, the forward trajectory of the narrative thus evoking elongated periods of cinematic temporality.

Slow Cinema: Reception

Ira Jaffe observes, citing the All Movie Talk podcast, “many times the word ‘slow’ is used as a synonym for dull or boring.”14 Perhaps this was the case for Dan Kois of the New York Times, who states, viewing Meek’s Cutoff was like “eating cultural vegetables”,15 by which he means the film was not to his taste, particularly the long slow dissolves, but he knows that slow cinema is (like vegetables) good for him.16 As Matilda Mroz observes, “[w]hat for one viewer might seem too long for another might offer a moment of elongated rapture.”17 Indeed, in contrast to Kios, Peter Bradshaw suggests that Meek’s Cutoff’s “long silent takes [compel] you to examine the details.”18 As de Luca and Jorge note, “slow cinema […] makes time noticeable in the image and consequently felt by the viewer.”19 Furthermore, Sukhdev Sanduh eloquently notes that slow cinema is “an act of cultural resistance, but also a gateway to beauty and delight.”20 In terms of academic discourse on slow cinema, de Luca and Jorge disclose that it has “gained momentum” in recent years.21 Their edited book, Slow Cinema, demonstrates this with a wide range of global films from male and female directors. Ira Jaffe’s, Slow Movies: Countering the Cinema of Action, also includes a wide range of global films which as a model is useful. However, his catalogue of 11 films are all by male directors, highlighting the need to broaden academic discourse on slow cinema to include works by female directors.

Temporal Dynamics

From the outset, Meek’s Cutoff’s tone, as Gorfinkel posits, “emblematises Reichardt’s slow style.”22 The opening sequence joins the settlers with their oxen led wagons, horses, and mules (who, as Reichardt affirms, have already been travelling for six months23) as they cross a rapid river. Filmed from a distance, the camera is placed low on the riverbank; thus, the viewer is positioned at the same height as the settlers and are therefore privileged with the verisimilitude of the precarious and drawn-out crossing. For Flanagan, “[a]n aesthetic of slow uncompresses time, distends it, renewing the ability of the shot to represent a sense of the phenemological real.”24 Another exemplary sequence of slow cinema occurs after the settlers have crossed the river. At approximately five minutes into the film, a low angled static shot captures the group as they walk towards the camera, and then exit the left of the frame. After ten seconds of the same shot that is devoid of any action, a slow dissolve reveals the party crossing another part of the landscape as they enter the top right of the frame (see figure 1). As the river seemingly dries up, the poetic spatio-temporal shift not only thematises the slow aesthetics, it also highlights the ambiguity of the film, as the viewer is not made aware of the temporal duration of the dissolve, or if the settlers are in fact walking around in circles.

Four stages of the slow dissolve, Meek’s Cutoff (2010)

Staying with the same sequence, as the settlers move along the horizon, we are made aware of the metronomic high-pitched sound of a squeaky wagon wheel which emphasises the forward trajectory of their journey, and in turn, the narrative. However, it is at this point that Reichardt employs a non-diegetic soundtrack which is contrapuntal to the forward trajectory. Composed by Jeff Grace, the ambient music is described as hypnotic and minimal, which blends classical compositions with drone and experimental sounds.25 Additionally, James Ponsold states that the score is “unnerving” and “anxious”.26 Indeed, the combination of different instruments lend an eerie tone that Ponsold suggests sounds like a “rusty gate slowly opening.”27 Some of the instrumental sounds are noticeably played out in reverse; thus, they counter the forward trajectory of the settlers’ journey. Michel Chion argues that sound in film can have its “own temporal dynamic.”28 Therefore, in the case of Meek’s Cutoff, although the sound of the squeaking wheel offers a forward temporal dynamic, when played in conjunction with the backward temporal dynamic of the instrumental music, they negate each other, which in turn achieves long periods of stasis. As Gorfinkel notes, Reichardt’s films “trace the trajectory of precarious travellers circuitous or arrested journeys”.29

Sue Thornham examines how the landscape in Meek’s Cutoff has “movement”,30 such as the energy of the river and the “clouds that roll or surge across the screen.”31 However, Thornham also suggests that the landscapes do “not invite us into forward movement,” the camera penetrates the space and lingers, “so that time becomes circular, or perhaps irrelevant, and is supplanted by the fullness, and movement, of space.”32 In a similar stance, Gorfinkel suggests that Reichardt’s films proffer “slackness of their suspended agency” and thus evoke “stuckness”.33 A static 15 second take exemplifies Thornham’s and Gorfinkel’s claims: penetrating the land, the camera captures the silhouettes of the wagons and a makeshift washing line in the mid- ground. The washing barely moves, and the sound of cicadas emphasise the stasis of the moment, whilst the clouds slowly move in real time across the sky (see figure 2).

The camera penetrates the space and lingers, Meek’s Cutoff (2010)

Long-takes and Static Shots

Numerous films employ long-takes; however, the long-take alone does not constitute a film as belonging to slow cinema. As de Luca and Jorge suggest, a film “needs to be analysed qualitatively in relation to other elements of film style.”34 Indeed, to take the film, Victoria (Sebastian Schipper, 2015), which boasts one single take for the film’s 140-minute entirety as an example, it cannot be placed within the realm of slow cinema. Opposing other slow cinema tropes, Victoria has a fast-paced narrative trajectory which is emphasised by employing a handheld camera that moves closely with the film’s protagonists, and Schipper deploys up-tempo, pumping trance music. Vis-à-vis the long take in films such as Touch of Evil (Orson Welles, 1958), de Luca and Jorge argue, “[Touch of Evil] is hard to be classified as slow owing to [it’s] wildly eventful mise en scène and/or kinetic camerawork.”35 In contrast, Meek’s Cutoff’s mise en scène is minimalist and austere, and the camera is predominantly static, where the protagonists slowly move in and out of the frame. Speaking at a Q&A at The University of Oxford, Reichardt notes that “it is really beautiful to have things move through a frame.”36 In her opinion, the subjectivity of the handheld camera, which moves alongside and gets close to the protagonist, is often overused and therefore “becomes a gimmick” and “loses its value”.37 With meticulous shot selection, Reichardt thus avoids gimmickry and devaluing her signature slow cinema tropes.

A good example of a long-take static shot, whereby the actor moves through the frame, occurs at 0:31:13. In a state of initial panic, after encountering a Native American man (Rod Rondeaux), Emily Tetherow (Michelle Williams) wants to send out warning shots to her fellow settlers. Emily runs into the static frame from the right and disappears out of the frame-left into the wagon to retrieve a rifle. She then re-enters the frame and starts the tense, slow and arduous process of loading, firing, and reloading a mid-19th century rifle. This demonstrates, as Mantziari notes, Reichardt’s “intention to achieve historical accuracy and […] verisimilitude.” 38 If this sequence had been edited, the audience would have been denied the feeling of the reality of the slow procedure. Furthermore, Reichardt’s static camera which patiently penetrates the land, works to fix the audience to their cinema seats, who are compelled to examine the details.

Slow Cinemas’ Characters

For Ira Jaffe, the main characters in slow cinema usually “lack emotional, or at least expressive range and mobility.”39 True, although Reichardt generally has one character in her narratives to counterbalance the often-unreadable protagonists. For example, in Old Joy, Kurt (Will Oldham) likes to, as Roger Ebert puts it, “spin [a story]”,40 whilst Mark (Daniel London) listens intently, yet lacks emotion. Likewise, Stephen Meek in Meek’s Cutoff is “prone to tall tales, braggadocio and irascibility”.41 Akin to Old Joy’s Kurt, Meek offers an aspect of comedy and thus counterbalances the reserved often taciturn characters that dominate the narrative. For example, in a sequence that starts at 0:9:28, Emily is filmed in a medium shot as she is walking towards the tracking camera. The off-screen animated voice of Meek can be heard as he is enthusiastically ‘spinning one of his yarns’ to the eager young Jimmy (Tommy Nelson). Emily’s facial expression is unanimated as she endures Meek’s tall tale of grizzly bears. The yarn may help time move faster for Jimmy, but for Emily, who does not believe a word Meek utters, it draws-out time, thus it counters the forward trajectory of her journey. Nonetheless, as Emily’s eyes glance towards Meek, there is a subtle note of humour in the narrative. The viewer can almost hear Emily’s thoughts of wishing Meek would ‘shut up’. Similarly, in The Turin Horse the two main protagonists, who lack any emotion, are overwhelmed with the monologue of their visiting dynamic neighbour (Mihály Kormos). As Jaffe suggests, the neighbour’s six-minute rant is comical in itself.42 Perhaps Reichardt is referencing The Turin Horse, (there are other similarities, formally and thematically); nevertheless, Meek and the neighbour offer nuances to their respective films. In turn, they emphasise the lack of expressive range of the other characters and perhaps momentarily and implicitly speed up the film for the viewer without resorting to Hollywood’s explicit model of filmmaking, such as rapid editing.

Countering Rapid Editing

David Bordwell maintains that the popular American movie “plays out like its own coming attractions trailer.”43 He argues that rapid editing contributes to what he has termed “intensified continuity”, and states that intensified continuity is “traditional continuity amped up, raised to a higher pitch of emphasis.”44 This is a subject that Reichardt feels strongly about, and states, “there is nothing that makes me feel more alienated from mainstream filmmaking.”45 Further, Reichardt remarks to Sam Adams of AV Film, that when she sits through trailers she feels “bombarded by the instant everything,” and is concerned how far “time in cinema in the U.S. will go.”46 Sukhdev Sanduh reports that The Bourne Ultimatum’s (Paul Greengrass, U.S. & Germany, 2007) ASL is 2 seconds.47 For Flanagan, “speed perpetually risks gratuitous haste, fragmentation and distraction, reduction intensifies the spectator’s gaze, awareness and response.”48 Indeed, Bazin who cherishes long-takes over fast editing, states, “[w]ill anyone deny that it is […] much more moving than a montage by attraction?”49 Bordwell suggests rapid cutting stems from “producers’ insistence that there be many alternative takes for postproduction adjustments.”50 As an independent filmmaker Reichardt carries out her own editing and therefore is not influenced by outside producers’ ‘alternative takes’.

Aspect Ratio and Bringing Everything Together

A key aspect of Meek’s Cutoff’s aesthetics is the 1:33:1 aspect ratio framing. Geoff King somewhat subjectively states that “the narrowness is the most eye-catching feature of the visuals”, and then argues that it is “rarely used for contemporary features.”51 True, although it is often used within films to highlight different time periods, such as depicting 1932 in The Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson, 2014). Additionally, it is used in films to portray mock documentary sections within a film, which is deployed in I, Tonya (Craig Gillespie, 2017). However, British ‘art cinema’ filmmaker, Andrea Arnold, is renowned for her use of the aspect ratio framing throughout her narratives. She states that she prefers the square frame because “you don’t get enough sky in widescreen.”52

There are several reasons why Reichardt chose the aspect ratio framing: one reason is that she wanted to give the restricted point of view of the female characters, whose bonnets deny them a peripheral view. Another motive was that she did not want to romanticise the West. The film joins the settlers as they are at the latter part of their journey and, as Reichardt points out, the diaries of the real settlers at this point were simply lists of chores juxtaposed to the poetic “heaven on earth” and “flowery hopes” in their earlier journal entries.53 However, another motive for the employment of the square frame was down to Jon Raymond’s script. As Reichardt recalls to Karina Longworth, 6 April, of The Village Voice:

Jon would put in the script, ‘And then they’re surprised by…’ And I’m like, ‘Jon, what surprise? Standing in the desert, I can see for 40 miles. I can be shocked by nothing.’ So how do you come upon something [unexpected]? The square helped me with that – you wouldn’t see tomorrow or yesterday in the shot.54

In this respect then, the square framing suspends time and a temporal flow; it not only keeps the characters in the temporal present, it keeps the viewer in the same time frame, rather than looking forward.

The last scene of Meek’s Cutoff embodies all of Reichardt’s ‘slow’ techniques that succeed in slowing down temporal rhythms. With a shot length of approximately 46 seconds, the Native American character (in his attempt to lead the settlers to water) walks away from the square frame. This contrasts the majority of shots, whereby the settlers walk from the right of the frame and exit left (signalling their westward journey). The static camera in the latter shot represents the settlers’ point of view, whom, at this point are, ‘stuck’ in the landscape, as they ponder on whether to follow the Native American. The solitary image of the Native American is not accompanied by the metronomic sound of the wagon wheel, which throughout the narrative is a signifier of time moving forward. Instead, the lone character is joined solely by the ‘backward’ non-diegetic score, negating the forward trajectory of his movements (see figure 3). This is then heightened with the fade to black, which works to fix him to the landscape. The sudden ending and ambiguity of the diegesis also works to slow down the temporal flow, to the extent that the viewer is not rewarded with a clear view of the characters’ outcomes – narratively or visually. As Reichardt points out above, we are not privileged with a view of their ‘tomorrow’.

The final long take which slowly fades to black, Meek’s Cutoff (2010)

Conclusion

Reichardt embraces slowness and thus rejects today’s Hollywood model of filmmaking of accelerated narratives, short shot lengths, rapid editing and close-up hand-held camerawork. However, that is not to say Reichardt rejects ‘the now’, for her political narratives expose contemporary issues. Meek’s Cutoff comes from a feminist perspective, and as Gorfinkel, who writes about the austerity in Meek’s Cutoff, states “[austerity] resonates with the twenty-first economic order […] and policies of George W. Bush […] that insist that citizens do less with less”55 Furthermore, Reichardt’s subsequent films, Night Moves (2013), Certain Women (2017) and First Cow (2020) focus on environmental issues, gender politics and capitalism, respectively. Yet, Reichardt still exposes contemporary issues with slow cinema (formally and thematically). In this respect, as Koepenik argues,

…far from fleeing the now, slowness asks viewers to take time and explore what our contemporary culture of speed rarely allows us to ask, namely what it means to live in a present that no longer knows one integrated dynamic, grand narrative or stable point of observation.56

Discussing Reichardt’s seventh film, Certain Women, Nigel M. Smith of The Guardian, argues that Reichardt “has proved herself the modern master of ‘slow cinema’”57 countering King’s argument that Reichardt’s style is relatively slow. As pointed out in the introduction, compared to the slower films of Tarr’s, on first viewing Meek’s Cutoff may seem relatively slow. However, with close scene analysis, this essay has argued that Reichardt’s innovative film form, such as her contrapuntal score; the planting of the camera into the land; all captured in a ratio aspect frame, slows time down, whereby certain sequences feel longer. Therefore, by resisting the culture of speed, Reichardt has created her own unique temporal rhythms.

Endnotes

  1. Lutz Koepnick, On Slowness: Toward an Aesthetic of the Contemporary (New York: Columbia University Press, 2014) p. 1.
  2. David Bordwell, (2002) “Intensified Continuity: Visual Style in Contemporary American Film”, Film Quarterly 55 (No. 3 2002): p.16.
  3. Tiago de Luca & Nuno Barradas Jorge, Slow Cinema, eds, (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016) p. 1.
  4. Matthew Flanagan, “‘Slow Cinema’: Temporality and Style in Contemporary Art and Experimental Film”, PhD diss., University of Exeter, 2012, p.4.
  5. Matthew Flanagan, “Towards an Aesthetic of Slow in Contemporary Cinema”, 16:9 Danmarks Klogeste Filmtidsskrift, (November 2008).
  6. Kelly Reichardt, “Kelly Reichardt: In Conversation” Interview and Q&A hosted by Andrew Klevan, University of Oxford, Humanitas Visiting Professorship in Film and Television, (July 2014).
  7. Sam Adams, “Interview: Kelly Reichardt and Jon Raymond”, AV Club, (March 2011).
  8. Elena Gorfinkel, “Exhausted Drift: Austerity, Dispossession and the Politics of Slow in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff”, in Slow Cinema, Tiago De Luca, & Nuno Barradas Jorge, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p. 123.
  9. Elena Gorfinkel, “Exhausted Drift: Austerity, Dispossession and the Politics of Slow in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff”, in Slow Cinema, Tiago De Luca, & Nuno Barradas Jorge, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p. 124.
  10. Despoina Mantziari, “Women Directors in ‘Global’ Art Cinema: Negotiation Feminism and Representation”, PhD diss., University of East Anglia, 2014, p. 223.
  11. Anne Thompson, Anne, “Meek’s Cutoff: Professor Kelly Reichardt’s Filmmaking 101 Primer”, 21 April 2011, IndieWire.
  12. André Bazin, “The Evolution of the Language of Cinema” in Film Theory and Criticism, 6th edition., Leo Braudy, & Marshall Cohen, eds. (New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), p. 44.
  13. Geoff King, “Indies Continuities: The Persistence of American Independent Tradition in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff”, Revue française d’études américaines, 136, 2013.
  14. cited in Ira Jaffe, Slow Movies: Countering the Cinema of Action (New York & Chichester: Columbia University Press, 2014), p.1.
  15. Dan Kois, “Eating Your Cultural Vegetables”. New York Times, 29 April 2011.
  16. ibid.
  17. Matilda Mroz, Temporality and Film Analysis (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2013), p.41.
  18. Peter Bradshaw, (2011) “Meek’s Cutoff – review”, The Guardian, 14 April 2011.
  19. Tiago de Luca & Nuno Barradas Jorge, (2016) Slow Cinema, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p. 5.
  20. Sukhdev Sandhu, “Slow cinema fights back against Bourne’s supremacy”, The Guardian, 9 March, 2012.
  21. Tiago de Luca & Nuno Barradas Jorge, (2016) Slow Cinema, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p. 2.
  22. Elena Gorfinkel, (2016) “Exhausted Drift: Austerity, Dispossession and the Politics of Slow in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff”, in Slow Cinema, Tiago De Luca, & Nuno Barradas Jorge, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p. 127.
  23. Kelly Reichardt, “Kelly Reichardt: In Conversation” Interview and Q&A hosted by Andrew Klevan, University of Oxford, Humanitas Visiting Professorship in Film and Television.
  24. Matthew Flanagan, “Towards an Aesthetic of Slow in Contemporary Cinema”, 16:9 Danmarks Klogeste Filmtidsskrift, (November 2008).
  25. Jeff Gburek, “Meek’s Cutoff: Music from the Motion Picture”, Soundhom.
  26. James Ponsoldt, “Lost in America: Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff“, Filmmaker Magazine, 23 November 2011.
  27. ibid.
  28. Michel Chion, Audio-Vision: Sound of Screen, translated by Claudia Gorbman, (New York & Chichester: Columbia University Press, 1994), p. 10.
  29. Ellena Gorfinkel, “Exhausted Drift: Austerity, Dispossession and the Politics of Slow in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff”, in Slow Cinema, Tiago De Luca, & Nuno Barradas Jorge, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p.123.
  30. Sue Thornham, Spaces of Women’s Cinema: Space, Place and Genre in Contemporary Women’s Filmmaking, (London: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, BFI, 2019), p. 29.
  31. ibid.
  32. ibid.
  33. Ellena Gorfinkel, “Exhausted Drift: Austerity, Dispossession and the Politics of Slow in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff”, in Slow Cinema, Tiago De Luca, & Nuno Barradas Jorge, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p.123.
  34. Tiago de Luca & Nuno Barradas Jorge, Slow Cinema, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p. 6.
  35. ibid.
  36. Kelly Reichardt, “Kelly Reichardt: In Conversation” Interview and Q&A hosted by Andrew Klevan, University of Oxford, Humanitas Visiting Professorship in Film and Television.
  37. Ibid.
  38. Despoina Mantziari, “Women Directors in ‘Global’ Art Cinema: Negotiation Feminism and Representation”, PhD diss., University of East Anglia, 2014, p. 239.
  39. Ira Jaffe, Slow Movies: Countering the Cinema of Action (New York & Chichester: Columbia University Press, 2014) p. 3.
  40. Roger Ebert, “Reviews: Old Joy”, Rogerebert.com, 2 November 2006.
  41. Elena Gorfinkel, “Exhausted Drift: Austerity, Dispossession and the Politics of Slow in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff”, in Slow Cinema, Tiago De Luca, & Nuno Barradas Jorge, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p. 126.
  42. Ira Jaffe, Slow Movies: Countering the Cinema of Action (New York & Chichester: Columbia University Press, 2014), p. 153.
  43. David Bordwell, “Intensified Continuity: Visual Style in Contemporary American Film”, Film Quarterly, Vol. 55, (No. 3, 2002): p. 16.
  44. Ibid.
  45. Leonard Quart, “The Way West: A Feminist Perspective: An interview with Kelly Reichardt”, Cineaste, 2 (Spring, xxxvi, 2011): p. 42.
  46. Sam Adams, “Interview: Kelly Reichardt and Jon RaymondAV Club, 26 April 2011.
  47. Sukhdev Sandhu, “Slow cinema fights back against Bourne’s supremacy”, The Guardian, 9 March, 2012.
  48. Matthew Flanagan, “Towards an Aesthetic of Slow in Contemporary Cinema”, 16:9 Danmarks Klogeste Filmtidsskrift, (November 2008).
  49. André Bazin, “The Evolution of the Language of Cinema” in Film Theory and Criticism, 6th edition., Leo Braudy, & Marshall Cohen, eds. (New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004), p. 44.
  50. David Bordwell, “Intensified Continuity: Visual Style in Contemporary American Film”, Film Quarterly, Vol. 55, No. 3 (2002) p. 23.
  51. Geoff King, “Indies Continuities: The Persistence of American Independent Tradition in Kelly Reichardt’s Meek’s Cutoff”, Revue française d’études américaines, 136, p. 2, 2013.
  52. Patricia Thompson, Patricia (2012) “Wild passion”, American Cinematographer, 93, (5, 2012): p. 44.
  53. Graham Fuller, “The Oregon Trail”, Sight & Sound, 21. (5, 2011): p. 42.
  54. Karina Longworth, “Going the Distance With Meek’s Cutoff Director Kelly Reichardt”, The Village Voice, 6 April 2011.
  55. Elena Gorfinkel, “Exhausted Drift: Austerity, Dispossession and the Politics of Slow in Kelly Reichardt’s Meeks Cutoff”, in Slow Cinema, Tiago De Luca, & Nuno Barradas Jorge, eds. (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2016), p. 124.
  56. Lutz Koepnick, On Slowness: Toward an Aesthetic of the Contemporary (New York: Columbia University Press, 2014) p. 4.
  57. Nigel M. Smith, “Kelly Reichardt: ‘Faster, faster, faster – we all want things faster’”, The Guardian, 1 March 2017.

About The Author

Based in Brighton, UK, Catherine Putman has an MA and a BA in Film Studies from the University of Sussex. She writes on the films of feminist filmmakers, such as Carol Morley, Clio Barnard, Andrea Arnold, Kelly Reichardt and Lucrecia Martel.

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