Distant editing

The Armenian filmmaker Artavazd Pelechian, who has directed documentaries with a highly powerful and emotional form, such as « We », « The Seasons », or « Our Century », among others, explained his primary editing method, « distant editing », in a theoretical text. This method, in my opinion, can be applied as early as the scriptwriting stage, and I believe it is one of the keys to creating organic cinema that immerses viewers in Life, in the natural sense of the term.

Theories of Editing

The first theoretical texts on cinematic montage come from Russian filmmakers of the early 20^th century, notably Lev Kuleshov and Sergei Eisenstein, followed later by Dziga Vertov. The theory of « distant editing », developed by Artavazd Pelechian in the 1970s in Soviet Russia (he is Armenian), opposes in some ways—but I would say rather complements—the classical theory of montage.

The Kuleshov Effect

Let’s start with the classical theory of montage, the « Kuleshov Effect »: it is an editing exercise in which we see a relatively expressionless actor, filmed in a three-quarter profile, looking at something off-screen. Then, this shot is followed by another image, such as a steaming dish on a table. Afterward, we return to the actor’s face, still expressionless. We can read hunger or desire on their face. The same exercise is repeated by replacing the shot of the table with a coffin or a beautiful young woman. Then, on the actor’s impassive face, we read, we feel the emotion of sadness or desire, etc.

The Kuleshov Effect exists, works, and is very powerful. We can already use it at the scriptwriting stage, through the juxtaposition of elements that create meaning and emotion in the viewer’s mind. This proves that true emotion is not in the actor, nor in the character, nor even in the story. It lies in what is constructed in the viewer’s brain.

Distant Editing

In Artavazd Pelechian’s films, there is a stylistic effect that is purely about montage, which he uses repeatedly and has theorized under the term « Distant Editing ». For example, at the beginning of a film, we see a shot of a crowd running, filmed from above. Over this shot, we hear a repetitive musical motif. The shot itself may be repeated several times. Thus, on this image, we hear this musical motif, which might be a fast, rhythmic piano piece. We therefore associate, mentally and emotionally, this piece of music with the fleeing crowd. Then, much later in the film, perhaps at the end, we see another scene that has nothing to do with the first, such as industrial machines operating. And we hear the musical motif from the beginning, in a loop, which we hadn’t heard since then. In our minds, this musical motif has been associated with the running crowd. Thus, when we are faced with this new image but hear a piece of music we already know and which has been emotionally linked to the crowd, a *distance montage* occurs in our minds. We feel within ourselves a confrontation, an overlapping, a clash between the running people and these industrial machines, thanks to the evocation that this music brings of the images it was originally associated with.

This is very powerful and extremely organic, as the film plays on our sensory memories to associate elements at a distance, rather than one after the other as in the Kuleshov Effect. This is why, for me, these are two complementary approaches to montage.

Application to Screenwriting

In screenwriting, we can fully utilize this type of distant editing by introducing sound motifs linked to visual motifs, which will later be decoupled in the film, allowing us to revive in our minds the associated images or sounds, thus creating a distant editing in our thoughts.

For example, we might evoke, at the beginning of the script, a specific sound ambiance, such as small birds—let’s say birds waking a child in their countryside bedroom. Much later in the story, when this character is imprisoned, they are transferred to a countryside prison, against their will. And we, the viewers, see this prison and hear the small birds we had heard at the beginning of the film.

I emphasize the dimension of montage, even at the scriptwriting stage: it is not necessary for the character to hear the birds and feel an emotion. For me, this type of effect is a very basic level of psychologized storytelling, a narrative that does not take its audience into account. What is important, and why I speak of montage, is the emotional connection it creates for us, the viewers.

It becomes even more interesting if, for example, we hear the birds outside the prison, but then, when we enter the prison, we realize there is a lot of noise—slamming doors, screams, etc.—and the character does not hear the birds at all.

Moving Beyond Psychologization

This example allows me to reiterate a proposition of mine, which complements other dramaturgical approaches: the idea of moving beyond psychologization. Often, in narrative art, we talk about internal conflict, and how conflict is what structures a story. For example, a character facing a moral dilemma and not knowing what to choose. There are also external conflicts, of course. The idea is that it is through these conflicts that we become engaged in the situation. This is true, but in my opinion, it is very partial.

The screenplay is a transitional object for making cinema. It is not a novel, nor theater—it is cinema! Cinema is an extremely unique technical form, which has nothing to do with the novel, theater, or opera. Cinema produces a physical effect on the viewer akin to a waking dream. It has a connection to psychoanalysis, and in fact, the two were born together. This is why concepts from psychoanalysis, as well as notions of pure visual or auditory emotion, seem to me to be very important keys for making cinema—keys that should be considered as early as the scriptwriting stage.

I am not saying these are the only keys; they are complementary. But if they are thought through at the scriptwriting stage, they can, in my opinion, lead to denser, more powerful, and more captivating films. Perhaps even masterpieces.