Julien Donkey-Boy: Korine's Radical Film Techniques Analyzed

Introduction: Challenging Traditional Filmmaking

Harmony Korine's Julien Donkey-Boy is a notable example of a recent film that attempts to challenge the hegemony of traditional filmmaking by subverting its rules through technical means. This paper analyzes Julien Donkey-Boy from the perspective of camerawork, editing, sound, and lighting, in order to show how Korine's highly innovative use of these filmic elements both exposes the limitations of traditional filmmaking and reveals hitherto unexplored possibilities of the medium.

The film opens with a televised clip of a figure skater. The footage is shot directly from a television screen and has been slowed down, allowing us to study the skater's movements in slow motion as she glides across the frame. The image is obscured by the fact that we are watching it on a screen through another screen, adding a layer of static that would not be present were we viewing the footage directly. Over this footage, a recording of "Ave Maria" plays. At first, this juxtaposition seems crude and absurd — a pop culture image paired with a musical-religious epiphany. As the scene continues, however, Korine's intention becomes apparent. He is sending the viewer a message about the quasi-religious symbolism of the filmic medium itself — a message he will attempt to sustain throughout the entire film.

Camerawork and the Dogme 95 Aesthetic

Indeed, it could be argued that the camera in Julien Donkey-Boy is the film's main character. More than Julien himself, with his wild gesticulations, and more than the scenes of remarkable energy and pathos, the viewer's attention is continuously drawn to the not-so-subtle nuances of the camerawork. In keeping with the technical considerations of the Dogme 95 movement, Korine shot the entire film on digital video. This gives the film an unpolished, documentary feel. Nearly all of the camerawork is handheld, so the image on screen is constantly shaking — at times more so than others.

Although Korine would later argue that he was drawn to video for practical reasons more than aesthetic ones — it gave him the ability to shoot continuously, whereas film requires constant concern about the material limitations of the medium — it is easy to see how the aesthetic limitations of digital video in fact open up new possibilities for expression. Julien Donkey-Boy is a most unusual film, and it probably would not be the film it is had it been shot any other way.

Editing and Narrative Disjunction

The film was pieced together in the editing room like a jigsaw puzzle — except that instead of forming a coherent picture, the finished work emphasizes disjunction. This was clearly a conscious editing decision on Korine's part, as he wished the fabric of the film to represent the psychic fabric of Julien's reality. Because Julien is a schizophrenic man, it makes sense that the film, in reflecting his perception of the world, does not resemble a polished, narrative-driven work of art. Instead, it is more in line with the Modernist efforts of experimental filmmakers such as Maya Deren and Kenneth Anger — filmmakers who sought to challenge narrative convention and emphasize the materiality of the filmic medium through their work.

Julien Donkey-Boy is composed mainly of long takes punctuated by quick cuts. In this manner, the film moves from scene to scene, none of which are logically connected, as one would expect in the "typical" filmmaking exemplified by Hollywood-style productions. What is more, Korine also employs still photography throughout the film, making the final version of Julien Donkey-Boy more reminiscent of video art than a mainstream movie.

In an early example of this innovative montage technique, the screen effectively splits in half. On one side we see a photograph of Julien's father's face; on the right-hand side, we see the moving image of Julien and his father walking down a sidewalk toward the camera. The camera is still — only the actors are moving. As they draw closer and closer, we hear the father's voice delivering a voice-over monologue that provides a further layer of disjunction, as the monologue has apparently nothing to do with either of the images on screen. Rather, it concerns the Spanish conquest of Peru. The audio recording is low quality — it almost sounds as though it was recorded on a cassette tape recorder, and it probably was. This lo-fi aesthetic gives the overall montage a decidedly homemade feel, one that resonates with the suburban reality the characters inhabit — and effectively pervert through their actions — throughout the course of the film.