Sometimes I wonder how filmmakers (or reviewers, even) can sit back and just enjoy a film if they are so aware of how films are made. One might think that a deep knowledge of craft could pull one’s attention from the film as an entity unto itself and draw it towards the minutiae of the process.

This evening I did a little experiment. Not intentionally; it just sort of happened. I was given a free movie pass at work today (always a good thing), and, in a flurry of spontaneity, I decided I would also use it today. Before leaving work, I checked the Empire Theatres website to see what was playing downtown. There wasn’t much I wanted to see, but I was mildy interested in Contagion, as I had seen the previews and thought that a big-budget, big-cast, high-stakes thrill ride was just what I needed after a day at the office. So off I went, stopping at Starbucks for a chai latté along the way, low expectations in hand.

The film begins with a black screen and the sound of someone coughing. The someone turns out to be Gwyneth Paltrow, whose face nearly fills the screen as the frame fades in from black. She is looking most unglamourous, our Ms. Paltrow, and some small part of my brain nudged me, saying that any film that starts out with a full screen shot of Gwyneth Paltrow’s face looking like it has no makeup on is a film that might just have something a wee bit different to offer the viewing audience.

About twenty minutes in, I started to notice something else: I wasn’t seeing a whole lot of camera movement. My brain perked up, and I started to pay attention to the shots themselves. Sure enough, not many pans or tilts, and no zooms to speak of at all.

Yes, I know. I shouldn’t notice stuff like this. It’s like going to a play and saying afterwards, “Gee that lighting was amazing.” If the tech guys are doing their jobs, you don’t notice the tech stuff. Unless you’re a theatre geek. Or in my case, a film geek (I’m a theatre geek too, but that’s a story for another time).

As I continued to watch, I started to notice other things: The shots were framed interestingly, composed interestingly, focussed interestingly, and even color-balanced interestingly. Color balanced? Seriously? Yes, I’m talking about non-standard, non-Hollywood color balancing of many, many shots in this film.

Once I realized how fantastic the cinematography was, I came up with my experiment: Could I maintain some part of my attention on the construction of the shots whilst still following the story? The answer, dear reader, is a resounding “yes.” It was a filmgoing experience unlike any other I have ever had.

Contagion is an unexpected delight. It is a feast for the senses and fodder for the mind. It is constructed so lovingly, and with such attention to detail, that it builds a believable alternate world, so like our own but so very different in so many ways. It draws the viewer in, gradually, methodically, deliberately, inexorably.

This is not your typical Hollywood blockbuster. It’s a quiet, pensive film. It carries a solemnity that borders on creepiness. The premise is all too plausible, and that plausibility is brought home by the realistic unreality of the shots. The actors are hyper-real in their apparent lack of makeup. The plethora of close-up shots ensures that we see every flaw in every complexion. The sudden shifts from dark shots to bright shots, from warm shots filled with browns and yellows to cold shots fairly crackling with shades of blue ensure that we don’t get too comfortable with a look or a feel.

And then there’s the composition. We see Kate Winslet, or part of her, in a bathroom mirror, and the bathroom mirror is shot through the bathroom door, with plenty of wall visible on either side. We see Lawrence Fishburne talking to a colleague in a lab, with the camera outside the room, shooting through a glass wall, with much of the surrounding area in frame. We see characters shot from low angles, high angles, odd angles. We see Lawrence Fishburne and Jennifer Ehle (any Pride and Prejudice fans out there?) walking down a corridor, with the camera tracking them in a relative close-up, Ehle in the center of frame and Fishburne only half in frame.

And in one of the most striking cinematic shots I’ve ever seen, we see Marion Cotillard sitting with a colleague in an airport waiting area. As she suddenly realizes something, she stands up and starts moving toward the right of frame, and what we thought was going to be another static shot becomes something else entirely. The camera tracks with her as she walks faster and faster and finally breaks into a run. As her gait speeds up, the camera slowly zooms in closer and closer until only her face is in frame. She is still running, and the camera is still tracking right along with her.

That must have been one long dolly track. Amazing shot.

This film made me excited about cinema again. It opened up a whole vista for me in terms of what can be done with camera angles and framing. There are no special effects in this film. There are computer generated images on the computer screens that the characters are looking at within the film, and there are a few freeze-frames, but that’s it. Everything else is right there, in the frame, waiting for us to look at it.

This is an exceptional piece of filmmaking. Director Steven Soderberg (who was also the cinematographer) has done himself and his cast and crew proud. I can’t recommend it highly enough.