Analogy between Film, Daydreams, and Dreams - Essay Example

Analogy, Film, Daydreams and Dreams Introduction The goal of this essay is to explore the usefulness of analogies between films, daydreams and dreams to facilitate the use of aesthetics as a film tool and technique that is inspired the subconscious mind. The process of exploration of the topic will involve discussion of spectacle, fantasy, and narrative in film. Each of these areas of film and filmmaking is integral to the discussion of the possible analogies between film, daydreams and dreams. In order to keep the discussion coherent and organized, the essay will focus not on the universe of creative works, but on the work of a single artist and filmmaker whose work will serve the purpose of each of the areas of discussion here. For that reason, this essay will focus on the work of Akira Kurosawa. Background Anyone who has been to the movies might have noticed that as you leave, there is a lot of animation in the people as they talk about the movie they saw. Often times, as people leave a movie, they seem quite happy. We can attribute this happiness to having been entertained, but it probably goes beyond just entertainment. Especially in the first few moments following the viewing of a movie, people seem to be still involved in the film in a very noticeable way. Then, perhaps a little after the feelings have somewhat subsided and they’re moving around again in their own lives. For 90 minutes or more prior they had suspended their disbelief and become a part of the film they were watching.1 For the period of the film and for perhaps a brief time following it, the viewer has had an experience of, “. . . self-development, identification, catharsis and insight.”2 The film experience allows the viewer to experience the challenge of action, to be a hero or heroine, to feel that first love again, to fulfill dreams and ambitions. If we are to consider the interaction of the viewer in the film, as the viewer relates to the characters, as the viewer fulfills fantasy, dreams and daydreams; the term “entertainment” then takes on an enlarged meaning. In considering the film watching experience, similarities between that experience and the experience of a dream can be found. For instance, the individual sense of seeing the picture on the screen from afar, and the sense of fulfillment that comes from having viewed action or heroism, for instance, is not so different than dreams that evolve to be worked out on the stage of the mind’s subconscious and as viewed by the mind’s eye. The ultimate personal benefit of film and dreaming are therefore very similar in nature. Of interest is the fact that material we watch on film actually originates in the thinking of others; the screen writer, director, cinematographer, and special effects person. Each of these individuals contributes to the film elements of their own creative processes. In other words, the viewer’s dreams, daydreams, and fantasies are being met through the conceptualization of at least one or more person’s own dreams, daydreams, and fantasies. Freud discusses the source of dreams, and gives four points from which dreams originate. Those points are: a.) a recent and physically significant experience which is represented in the dream directly, or b.) several recent and significant experiences which are combined into a single unity by the dream, or c.) one or more recent and significant experiences which are represented in the content of the dream by a mention of a contemporary but indifferent experience, or d.) an internal significant experience (e.g., a memory or a train of thought), which is in that case invariably represented in the dream by a mention of a recent but indifferent impression.3 An outstanding example of a single individual in filmmaking, who we can focus on as an example of their own dreams, daydreams, and fantasies serving as the catalyst for the fulfillment of the film viewer’s own emotions, is Akira Kurosawa.4 Freud’s four points of dream origination can be found in Kurosawa’s works that are discussed in this essay. Freud on Dreams According to Sigmund Freud, dreams an individual’s expressions of wish fulfillments that have undergone the person’s emotional sifting, so to speak.5 In other words, Freud suggests that the dreams manifest the strong and often times underlying emotions that are prevalent in the individual’s subconscious.6 By the end of the dream-wish alteration, the dream can take on a completely different level of significance than wish fulfillment, as Freud argues that the unconscious ‘work’ of the dream is to disguise the direct expression of an individuals’ wish as the nature of the wish is unacceptable to the conscious mind. The ‘dreamwork’ overcomes this censorship by disguising the nature of the wish, hence the rather confusing nature of most dreams.7 Dreamworks that are created by way of a creative and artistic writing, Freud suggests, “reproduce the writer’s thoughts under a disguises which is regarded as harmonizing with the recognized characteristics of dreams.”8 So when we are talking about analogy and film as products of an artistic daydream, dream, or fantasy, then, as Freud suggests, we are probably looking at the artist’s self-examination of his own dream or daydreaming processes, which have been subjected to his emotional alteration, and, by the time we see the manifestation of that on film, it is perhaps disguised from its original version and meaning to take on the characteristics that help provide balance and outlet for the artistic expression. The dream characteristics have been assigned a symbolic value. The dream characteristics have been assigned a symbolic value.9 Kurosawa’s Body of Work There are three phases to director Akira Kurosawa’s filmmaking; the pre-World War II era, during which time Japanese military censors prevented artistic freedom of expression. The only pre-war film that Kurosawa made was the 1942 Sugata Sanshiro.10 The second phase of the director’s work is the post World War II era, but, again, censorship, this time by an occupying U.S. military, prevented the director from enjoying full artistic expression.11 Nonetheless, the “occupation films” are extraordinary works of filmmaking. The occupation films are The Men Who Tread on the Tiger’s Tail (1945); No Regrets for our Youth (1946); Drunken Angel (1948); and Stray Dog, (1949).12 The third and final phase of the director’s filmography began post U.S. occupation, with Rashomon, filmed in 1950, which debuted in 1951 at the Venice International Film Festival and won the Golden Lion award.13 From 1951, until his death in 1998, Kurosawa contributed to filmmaking history an amazing repertoire of work that received international acclaim, and his works such as Rashomon, Seven Samurai (1951), Ikiru (1952), Throne of Blood/Cobweb Castle (1957), The Lower Depths (1957), The Hidden Fortress (1958), The Bad Sleep, Red Beard (1960) ,Yojimbo (1961), Sanjuro (1962), Dersu Uzala (1976), Kagemusha (1980), Ran (1985), .Dreams (1991), and Rhapsody in August (1991).14 Each of these works involved Kurosawa as director, producer, writer; and in some cases, all three roles. They present an ideal body of work and range of work within which to analyze dreams and daydreams as they impact film. Film Analysis In Rashomon, the director’s wish fulfillment comes to the screen in this fast paced, action packed film manifesting the director’s emotions and feelings about honor, integrity, and symbolism of feudal Japan. This is a story of honor, truth, and perception. At the centre of the story are a young woman and her husband who are traveling and come across a bandit. The bandit falls hopelessly in love with the man’s wife. It is an irrational, emotional love that would satisfy Freud because it is rooted in a wanton sexual desire. The bandit must have the woman, at all costs. The scene is significant of Kurosawa’s own feelings and emotional state. We know of Kurosawa’s intense love for his country. Another director experiencing the level of success as Kurosawa did with this film might have joined the Hollywood elite to exploit the opportunities of the industry. Kurosawa remained in Japan throughout his career, and his film work revolved around his intense love for Japan, the country’s role during World War II, and especially Japan’s nuclear holocaust. The scene where the bandit falls helplessly in love with the traveler’s wife, it could signify the director’s intense and even at times irrational love for Japan. It was common knowledge that Kurosawa believed that Japan had brought the destruction of nuclear holocaust upon itself; and to that end, because Rashomon focuses on the crime of rape and irresistible beauty of the traveler’s wife; it could signify that the wife – like Japan – had been too bold in her beauty by not disguising it well enough while traveling through a dangerous area of their world. In essence – and it is conveyed as such in the film – the traveler’s beautiful wife had brought this destruction upon herself. Just as Kurosawa was convinced that Japan had been too bold in its role in World War II and brought destruction upon itself. The bandit stalks the couple as they make their way, and at an opportune moment he attacks – and it is here that the film takes on a bizarre and interesting twist. At the point where the bandit has stalked the couple to have his way with the man’s wife, a fourth character is introduced who is strictly a character witness. Unbeknownst to the bandit or the woman who has become the object of his obsession, or her husband, the fourth character, the Woodsman, is a witness the events between the bandit, the man and his wife. The Woodsman is representative of Kurosawa’s world, watching Japan’s fall, standing helplessly by during Japan’s nuclear holocaust. As the events are told before a tribunal to determine the crime and fate of the parties, each person is called to testify; and the young woman’s husband, who is dead, testifies in spirit through a medium. The tribunal hears four different stories; that of the bandit, the woman, her husband, and the witness woodcutter. Each story is different and presents the individual perspectives, each a different reality. This scene where each party goes before the tribunal can represent Kurosawa’s artistic perception of the world as it judged Japan in the aftermath of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Each of the major players in the world, the top level military officials, had varying accounts of the world that, by the time Rashomon was made, were well documented and already a part of World War II history. In the end, world opinion determined Japan’s guilt. Certainly the bandit, obsessed with a woman he does not know, who is the wife of a man he does not know, is pursuing his fantasy in stalking the couple and taking advantage of the opportunity to assault them. The young woman, depending upon whose version you believe, has brought shame to herself and to her husband, whom she offers her dagger to kill her, but ends up accidentally killing the husband. Or, another version, the bandit kills the husband after he has ravaged the wife, which he forces the husband to witness. As we look to find “dream” meaning in the film, and because Kurosawa’s background involves a horrific World War II Japanese holocaust experience, we might consider this in terms of post traumatic stress.15 Dreaming is a form of psychotherapy, because “Dreaming can be thought of as a language in which we express ourselves at certain times, and which is considerably different from focused waking activity in that it is more perceptual, is less verbal, and has a less intentional quality.”16 Therefore, as we look at Rashomon, we find the elements of what might have been Kurosawa’s post war dreams. The burnt out city, which is directorially depicted from a long shot so that when the three strangers come together to talk about the strangest case they have ever seen; we are seeing them in full body view under the archway of the burnt out city. This is important, because according to Freud, “. . . every dream reveals itself as a physical structure, which has a meaning and can be inserted at an assignable point in the mental activities of waking life.”17 While Freud says that dreams originate from recent experiences and recent impressions, Kurosawa’s WWII experience is one that he repeats again and again in his daily work. The physical structure in this scene, the burnt out city set and especially the sign of Rashomon, is symbolic and meaningful to Kurosawa’s experiences and his daily focus on the social and political condition of Japan. In the opening scene, under the sign of Rashomon, the priest repeats over and over again of the disaster, it is a disaster, a sign of the times, horrible thing – and it really is not clear what he is referring to at that moment. Kurosawa does close up shots of the actor’s faces, to capture emotional expressions that help convey the character’s concern and bewilderment over what they have seen. Freud says that strangers in our dreams, people we have seen in the recent hours or during the day, are used in our dreams to bring together the scattered pieces of those things we need to work out.18 If, as we suggest here, Rashomon is informed by Kurosawa’s dreams, it is possible that the three people standing in the arch of the burnt out city represent people, strangers, he has seen during the time preceding his casting of the actors in their roles. Of course, we know that Mifune was a regular actor in nearly all of Kurosawa’s films, and thus we have the familiar inserted, which could actually represent Kurosawa himself. The question of honor, that of the woman, the husband, the bandit and the woodcutter are called into question as the tribunal must decide which version of the story to believe. The film forefronts Kurosawa’s firm belief in the traditional values and ways of a Japan that, since World War II, no longer exists; and one which will never exist again during the director’s lifetime. This is conveyed in the film, again, by the burnt out shell of the city called Rashomon, where the woodcutter, a Buddhist priest who was present during the testimonies; and a stranger take shelter from the rain, and as they wait, the story of the strange tribunal is discussed. The burnt out shell might represent Japan, in its post nuclear holocaust state, and the rain represents the nuclear rain of the cinders of Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Most of all, a life that can never be rebuilt, and this is symbolized by the fact that Rashomon has been abandoned, instead of rebuilt. The three, taking shelter from the rain in the remains of the city use its charred wood to build a fire by which to warm themselves. This is significant of Kurosawa’s own feelings about Japan; he cannot leave Japan even though in his mind the country has become morally bankrupt. One of the most forthright statements indicating where Akira Kurosawa was coming from as a filmmaker and reflecting his thoughts about Japan, war, and tradition is the film Dreams. The film is a compilation of eight vignettes, storylines in Japanese life and time and especially tradition. The tradition is a steady theme in each of the vignettes, and because this film was produced by Kurosawa late in his life, it is easy to believe that this is the culmination of his daydreams, his dreams – his nightmares – and his fantasies. For certainly the vignettes could not have come to the screen without first having been envisioned in the mind, the dreams, of the director. Freud says that one method of interpreting dreams is to consider the dream as a whole, and to replace it by another content that is intelligent to us, and analogous to the original one.19 “Most of the artificial dreams constructed by imaginative writers are designed for a symbolic interpretation of this sort: they reproduce the writer’s thoughts under a disguise which is regarded as harmonizing with the recognized characteristics of dreams.”20 The first vignette is Sunshine Through the Rain, and it opens with a young boy dressed in traditional Japanese style wear, and his mother is also dressed in traditional Japanese kimono. The mother has warned her young son not to go into the woods, because on days when the sun shines through the rain, it is the wedding of the foxes – and they do not like to be spied upon. The young boy disregards his mother’s warning, and he goes into the woods where he witnesses the most spectacular wedding march of the foxes – but they discover he is spying on them. He rushes home, only to find his mother waiting. She tells him the foxes have been there, and as atonement for his transgression, he must take the knife they left with her and kill himself. He cannot return to their house, unless he is forgiven by the foxes. Where, the boy asks his mother, does he find the mystical and mythical foxes; under the rainbow of course. This vignette is powerful in its content and cinematography. Colorful with the clarity that only modern technology can give to film, it is exhilarating in its beauty and content. The theme of tradition, transgression, and, as is the Japanese traditional way when one has fallen from the grace of dignity and; suicide. That this is a dream bought to cinematic life is believable, knowing that Kurosawa clung to tradition. At the end, the child is standing in a green field of flowers of every color imaginable, looking into the distance at the rainbow. The initial shot of the child here is a long one, and the child in his black and white traditional Japanese silk robes stands in contrast to the colorful flowers. Clutching the foxes’ dagger, he moves towards the rainbow and that is where the vignette, like a dream, ends. As in a dream, there is no clear or understandable ending – will the child be forgiven, or will the child do the honorable thing for his transgression and take his own life? The final view is a long shot from the child to the rainbow, which conveys the distance the child to go. This could be symbolic of the fact that this child, who has erred, has a long distance to travel to maturity and adulthood. It is a story about an important life lesson, and may be symbolic of Kurosawa’s own life lessons. Kurosawa made this film in the final years of his life, and in this vignette he could be the child, who, like himself, is faced with notion of death and redemption. Freud says that it is “impossible to give instructions upon the method of arriving at a symbolic interpretation.”21 However, in another vignette in Dreams, and given Kurosawa’s personal history, the Japanese holocaust, and the director’s deep sense of tradition – which, by the time the U.S. “occupation” of Japan was ending – though a military based remained in Japan – Kurosawa must have felt that the Japanese way of life had changed tragically for the worse, and that the best of Japanese cultural tradition would be forever lost to future generations. These interpretations of the director’s dreams are not too difficult to arrive at having seen Dreams. The third vignette is The Blizzard, and except for a few lines, it relies not on dialogue but on visual effects, which do not employ special effects; and the emotional sense of being lost, being in a nightmare, really, that will not end. The mountain climbers are in a blizzard, they cannot see ahead of them, and cannot see behind them. It becomes unclear whether their fatigue is from the cold, or from the lost hope for rescue, or despair as to whether or not the sun will ever shine again. In this vignette, Kurosawa keeps a tight scene with medium shots because the scene does not cut to another scene. It does cut instantaneously as the frame goes from one concept to the next, but the location remains close, tight and consistent. This creates the dreamlike sensation of not being able to escape, as might be experienced during a nightmare. The leader coaches the other three climbers to keep going, but they are without hope, and they fall into the snow and sleep. They must keep going, the leader tells them, but they have lost confidence in their leader too. They sleep, the leader tries to rouse them, but they do not waken and the blizzard intensifies. Soon, the leader cannot see his three fellow climbers. The weight of failure is heavy upon him, and he, like his fellow climbers, falls into the cold snow to sleep – perhaps forever. He is wakened by the comforting hand of a woman, an apparition, who covers him with layer after layer of tinsel like cloth, symbolic of all that which the traditional woman means to a Japanese man – home, mother, warmth, sustenance. Throughout the blizzard, she comforts him and he is never sure whether or not she is real, or a dream. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the blizzard ends, and there is hope because now the climbers can see the peak, and they know their leader has taken them in the right direction. They are – have been throughout the blizzard – within just yards of the safety of their base camp, and all is well The scene where the angel applies layer after layer of comfort over the freezing climber is significant dream action repetition. Freud says that repetition in dreams is significant in that it is a tabulation of the recent events in the recent days of an individual’s life surrounding the dream.22 “It will be seen that in interpreting dreams we find one condition always fulfilled; one component of the content of the dream is a repetition of a recent impression of the previous day.”23 The fourth vignette, The Tunnel, opens with a long shot then a medium shot of a wandering World War II veteran walking down a paved street towards a tunnel. The lighting is dark, as if an overcast day, to convey the dark nature of the vignette. As he reaches the mouth of a tunnel through which he must travel, the angle is back to a long shot, to emphasize the length of the tunnel; where he is met by a snarling dog. The dog, as was used in WWII, is carrying explosives. Clearly the animal is an apparition, the ghost, of an animal such as was sacrificed during the war. As the veteran enters the tunnel, his footsteps echo his steps. There is the light at the end of the tunnel, and the day seems much brighter at the end of the tunnel than it did at the beginning of the tunnel. As he emerges on the other end of the tunnel, he hears footsteps behind him, and turns to see the ghost of a solider. The solider is reporting to him, the veteran was his commanding officer. Unnerved, the veteran recognizes the soldier, and tells him, sadly, that he must return to the tunnel, because he is dead. The veteran tells the solider that he reported to the soldier’s parents his death, and that he must return to his side of existence. Sadly, emotionally distraught, the soldier does as he is instructed to do, and returns to the tunnel. First, though, he turns to salute his commanding officer, who returns his salute. The soldier disappears into the tunnel, and then there is a thundering noise of hundreds of footsteps and the ghosts of hundreds of lost lives appear before their commanding officer. They are the lives of the young men who the commander sent to their death in war. They stand ready to follow their commander’s orders. The commander reviews the hundreds of lives he sent to their deaths, and he asks forgiveness. The commander sends them back to the “other side,” and then the growling dog reappears, should the commander be tempted to join his troops. The Blizzard and The Tunnel are filmed in the dark noir cinematography that gives both vignettes the sense of despair, destruction, and hopelessness. They convey the mood of depression, the depths of dark thoughts from which it might be difficult to pull ones self out of. Such are the thoughts that weighed heavy on the director’s mind, so heavy that he created these dream vignettes that must have tormented him since World War II. According to a Freudian view, Kurosawa altered his dreams with the overlay of his strongest emotions – loyalty to his country, yet clearly in disagreement with the choices that were made on behalf of Japanese citizens by their ruling military leaders. The Tunnel might be Kurosawa’s apology to the young men who gave their lives to a senseless military cause. That those commanders, those military leaders never apologized to the Japanese people, and could not apologize to the young lives they sent to meet death, Kurosawa did it for them with The Tunnel. While it is both interesting, because Kurosawa’s Dreams is both a beautiful and brilliant piece of filmmaking; and fun to interpret Kurosawa in this film, Freud says that “It is of course impossible to give instructions upon the method of arriving at a symbolic interpretation. Success must be a question of hitting on a clever idea, of direct intuition, and for that reason was possible for a dream-interpretation by means of symbolism to be exalted into an artistic activity dependent on the possession of peculiar gifts.”24 While it is impossible to know director Kurosawa’s mind, looking at his Dreams in totality, and employing Freud and Hartman, it is possible to identify some of the symbolism in Kurosawa’s work – and his dreams. To this end, Hartman offers his conclusions on dreams, referring to them as his “contemporary theory of dreaming.”25 His theory is: 1. First, dreaming brings a lot of material together. Dreaming is a process of making connections; it makes connections in what I shall call the “nets of the mind.” (But so does waking!). 2. Dreaming allows us to make connections more broadly and more inclusively than when we’re awake, because dreaming avoids the “tightly woven” or “over learned” regions of the mind (such as those concerned with reading, writing and arithmetic). 3. The connecting process is not random. It is guided by the emotional concerns of the dreamer. As most of us have always known, we dream of what is important to us. Dreams are not at all “crazy” or arbitrary; this is especially evident when you know the dreamer’s emotional concerns. 4. The dream, especially the most striking, vivid part of the dream, pictures or provides a context for the dream. In other words, dreaming contextualizes emotions. 5. Because of its broader connection making, dreaming is especially good at noting similarities and creating metaphor. Dreaming makes use of our visual/spatial picturing abilities and provides an explanatory metaphor for the dreamer’s emotional state of mind. 6. Finally, this broad making of connections serves a purpose. The making of connections simultaneously smoothes out disturbances in the mind by integrating new material – “calming a storm” – and also produces more and broader connections by weaving in new material. It does not simply consolidate memory connections. These new connections or increased connections, are what make dreaming useful in problem solving, as well as in scientific and artistic creation.26 As we consider Kurosawa’s work in light of Hartman’s theory, we can make connections between Hartman’s explanations and what we see in Kurosawa’s Dreams. Also, because we know that the director addressed the bulk of his post World War II filmmaking to reflect his concerns and emotional response to nuclear war and holocaust, Hartman’s contemporary theory is expressed by this single body of work. References Cook, D. A. (1996). A History of Narrative Film. New York: W. W. Norton. Retrieved May 6, 2007, from Questia database: http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=105304214 Hartmann, E. (2001). The New Theory on the Origin and Meaning of Dreams The Origin and Meaning of Dreams. Cambridge, MA: Perseus Publishing. Retrieved May 6, 2007, from Questia database: http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=98822331 Kerr, P. (2002, January 7). Samurai Warrior: The Director Akira Kurosawa Influenced Many of the Wests Most Famous Film-Makers. Philip Kerr Sizes Up Japans Original Action Man. New Statesman, 131, 28+. Retrieved May 6, 2007, from Questia database: http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=5002022202 Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1943), Sugata Sanshiro [Motion Picture] Japan; Toho Company. Kurosawa, A ., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director), (1950) Rashomon [Motion Picture] Japan; Daiei Motion Picture Company, Ltd. Kurosawa, A ., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director), (1954), The Seven Samurai [Motion Picture] Japan; Toho Company. Kurosawa, A (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director), (1945) The Men Who Tread on the Tiger’s Tail [Motion Picture] Japan; Toho Company. Kurosawa, A (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1952) Ikiru [Motion Picture] Japan; Toho Company. Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1957)Throne of Blood/Cobweb Castle [Motion Picture] Japan; Toho Company. Kurosawa, A. ., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1946) No Regrets for our Youth [Motion Picture] Japan; Toho Company. ,[ Motion Picture] Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1957) The Lower Depths [Motion Picture] Japan; Toho Company. Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1958) Hidden Fortress ,[ Motion Picture] Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1958) The Bad Sleep,[ Motion Picture] Japan; Toho Company Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1960) Red Beard[ Motion Picture] (Country and Company Unknown). Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director), (1961),Yojimbo, ,[ Motion Picture] Japan: Kurosawa Production Co. Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1962) Sanjuro ,[ Motion Picture] Japan: Kurosawa Production Co. Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1976) Dersu Uzala ,[ Motion Picture] Russia: Atelier 41. Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director), (1980), Kagemusha , ,[ Motion Picture] Japan: 20th Century Fox. Kurosawa, A. (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director), (1985) Ran , ,[ Motion Picture] Japan: Greenwich Film Productions. Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director) (1991), Dreams , ,[ Motion Picture] Japan: Akira Kurosawa, USA. Kurosawa, A., (Producer), Kurosawa, A.,. (Director), (1991) Rhapsody in August. ,[Motion Picture] Japan: Feature Film Enterprise II. Sharp, C., Smith, J., & Cole, A. (2002). ‘Cinematherapy: Metaphorically Promoting Therapeutic Change.’ (Counseling Psychology Quarterly, 2002). Strachey, J. (Ed.). (1955). The Interpretation of Dreams (1st ed.). New York: Basic Books. Retrieved May 6, 2007, from Questia database: http://www.questia.com/PM.qst?a=o&d=99555924 Sturges, J, (Producer); Sturges, J. (Director), The Magnificent Seven, {Motion-Picture} United States: MGM Studios, 1960. Read More