So, I am WAY behind on my New York Film Festival blog coverage, and I do hope to get up to speed soon, and I do recommend in the meanwhile that you check out my Close Personal Friend The Self-Styled Siren’s ruminations on the fare she’s seen thus far, as her notes are as trenchant and acute and delightful and well-mannered as she herself is. I dowant to report that I did get a rather big kick out of Carnage, the film Roman Polanski has directed from an adaptation of Yasmina Reza’s international hit play thingie. It seemed to go over very well with much of the rest of the Festival press and industry audience too. The piece as filmed is a pretty good satire that, in and of itself and perhaps necessarily, underscores the limitations of pretty good satire as a form. Which is to say that its various reversals are a little, well, telegraphed. There’s a little bit of a paradox inherent in a piece that aspires to aggressively twist the nipples of its target audience’s collective sense of propriety and/or social grace while at the same time satisfying said audience’s expectations of entertainment. Which may in fact be precisely the point…only the film doesn’t take things that far. It’s modernist, not post!
But I did enjoy it, and after the film, I happened to run into a colleague who out-and-out hated it. And who said, and I quote, “There was nothing cinematic about it.” Which I kind of couldn’t believe, in the first place because more than anything else, Carnage is an absolutely virtuoso piece of cinema craft. As many of you likely know, the whole film, save for a brief prologue and epilogue, is set in a single Brooklyn apartment and its hallway. Polanski treats this space and its varied subspaces absolutely cinematically; the film is a potential masterclass in staging, blocking, camera angle, shot selection, shot length, pacing in terms of both rhythm of actual cutting and duration of shot, and so on. One could write a 1,200 word piece alone on how Kate Winslet’s physical stature mutates over the course of the film’s hour and twenty minutes. (We should note that Polanski’s actual frame—film, that is—is wider than the image posted above.) It’s all kind of amazing even if you’re not crazy about the content of the picture. So, yes, I would say, entirely cinematic.
And yet my friend, who hated it…and who, and this is really the beauty ironic part, I rebonded with a couple of weeks back on account of our shared conviction that David Cronenberg’s A Dangerous Method is both really great and, yes, entirely “cinematic,” found it to be not. And of course I wonder why, and I do look forward to having a longer conversation with her about that. And I post this now not to make fun of my pal or call her out or any such thing but because it struck me as kind of odd and funny, the language we adopt when we’re kind of affronted. My friend also found Carnage “misogynist,” (in case you’re wondering what road one of the drama’s predictable turnarounds goes up, there’s a clue for you) and it was pretty clear that the whole experience had touched her in a way that was a little more irritating than an average bad-movie experience. In a sense maybe the point was that calling it uncinematic was the deepest insult she could give it, and an insult she felt it deserved. But I strongly believe that the film is, well, frankly, not that thing. And, of course, conversation about movies is rather different than writing about movies, although what with this kind of comment-friendly format, and with Twitter, and with and so on, writing about movies and movie criticism and talking about movies is becoming a big ball of virtual wax and a different one from what it was. But I think that while conversation about movies can absolutely be about the vagaries of taste, criticism has to go beyond that. This conviction is really at the core of my whole quarrel with that ridiculous “cultural vegetables” conceit/debate.
I’m sorry this comment is not about this latest post of yours. I stumbled onto this blog looking for pictures of Dan Duryea. You have a great pic of him from Scarlet Street, one of my favorite films of the forties. And Some Came Running has got to be my favorite of the fifties. I’ll be checking in on this blog regularly.
Any of these days, we’ll start hearing people complaining that “12 angry men” isn’t cinematic. Because, you know, it’s all set in a room, and there’s nothing in it but people talking.
(I personally think that “12 angry men“ ‘s content is quite lame and anvilicious, but that’s a different subject).
Yeah, and the ROPE-bashing might start, too.
Haven’t seen CARNAGE, but I’m not worried that Polanski has suddenly forgotten how to be cinematic.
Your friend calling CARNAGE uncinematic may also be a way to strengthen her charge of misogyny. To assert that a film is misogynist (or homophobic or racist or …) is to run into the counter-claim that the movie only appears that way because of some extra baggage that particular viewer is bringing to the film (while ignoring the fact that not seeing misogyny/racism/homophobia may be the result of different baggage being brought along. The critical street in these cases often seems to run only one way).
So “uncinematic” is the worst insult, something more “objective” than the seemingly “subjective” charge of charge of misogyny.
I have yet to see Carnage (could not make the screening dammit!) but just this debate/conversation alone ratchets up my interest in the film (an interest that was already racheted pretty fucking high due to the talent involved).
Just judging from the little I have read and seen on the film (and knowing what Polanski is capable of) I would have to assume that Carnage, no matter what one thinks of the movie itself, is a rather cinematic movie in that so-called cinematic way.
Her complaint sounds like a cop-out to me, too–a film is still “cinematic” even if the director leaves the camera in one place for the entire movie–and the charge is especially specious-sounding in the case of Polanski, who probably can’t fart uncinematically. But the movie does look top-heavy with “meaning”, and sticking in the star of those earnest non-starters “The Reader” and “Little Children” just raises the red flag higher.
I guess I’m still sort of confused as to what barometer people are using to judge a film’s ‘cinematic’ credentials – is this as anachronistic a medium-specificity issue as it sounds? Would, say, Michael Snow’s Wavelength be the ultimate in un-cinematic filmmaking according to this rubric? After all, the camera hardly does anything…
I never saw God of Carnage, but I can’t imagine Reza being considered a misogynist (to the extent that women authors who are not named Highsmith can ever be considered misogynists). This is based on the two other plays I’ve seen, Art and The Unexpected Man, and her novel, but her main fascination seems to be male pride and how ludicrous that pride makes men act. I’ve heard great things about this play, and I can’t wait to see this version, whether or not it is sufficiently “cinematic.”
Having seen the play, I wouldn’t expect CARNAGE to be “top heavy with ‘meaning,’ ” since overall it’s more a farce than a drama. My only real concern with the film is not that it will be uncinematic but that Polanski’s weakest films tend to be his comedies, and the play at least is basically a comedy.
“Not cinematic”? Time to bring up Gertrud, Melo (all late period Resnais in fact) and everything ever made by Sacha Guitry.
Oh yes, and Rope is a masterpiece. In fact it’s fast becoming my favorite Hitchcock.
What is cinematic is, to an extent, a judgment call (just as what is musical is a judgment call. For some, atonality is not musical). To follow what Glenn said about criticism going beyond the vagaries of taste: I would propose that the cinematic is a field in which different works occupy different places. If a movie is within the boundaries of the field, then it is cinematic. Critical discourse is the continual attempt to fix these boundaries, which solidify/decompose/shift as the discourse does. I would also propose two corollaries.
The first is that is that not every viewer will find equal levels of comfort/appreciation in all regions of the cinematic field. For example, I think Joseph L. Mankiewicz is a cinematic director; others do not. I try to make a strong case grounded in both form and content for his work, but a viewer may still not experience his films as cinematic. Not getting JLM’s work can be a matter of taste; but it is can also be a matter of critical disjunction. A viewer can discern the same content/form that I do, and not respond positively to it as I do. This negative reaction can lead to a conclusion that a work is not cinematic (the underlying premise, of course, is that the cinematic is something that, when experienced, gives pleasure).
The second corollary is a question: if the content/ideology of a film is experienced as racist/sexist/etc. by a viewer, how does that experience affect the viewer’s apprehension of form? Some people are good at compartmentalizing, others are not. Can compartmentalizers shut off content from form so that each is appreciated separately? What about viewers who lack this capacity? Is it something that can be learned? The way a viewer negotiates her experience of the interplay of form/content is more than a matter of personal taste, but still a subjective process.
If it was shot on film or DV and shown in theaters, it is automatically cinematic. It is cinema. A 13 second film clip of a guy sitting on a log is unfortunately cinematic.
By Adam’s concept, the venue must also be taken into account. Does that mean Haynes’ MILDRED PIERCE or Fassbinder’s BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ not be considered cinematic if they had not been shown in a movie theatre?
ROPE’s not a masterpiece, but UNDER CAPRICORN, which puts some of that film’s techniques to better use, is.
Thanks so very much for the plug and kind words, Glenn.
“But I think that while conversation about movies can absolutely be about the vagaries of taste, criticism has to go beyond that.”
THIS.
Oh, look, I made an amateur copy editor’s head explode. Usually not funny, but in this case I’ll laugh anyway.
To ranks of “Physically Constrained but Cinematically Interesting” alongside 12 ANGRY MEN and ROPE, I would add BURIED from just last year. I think it’s a great film, terrifying and even absurdly funny, but not many folks seem to agree with that assessment. That’s fair, I suppose, and that’s where the “taste” factor comes in. But I don’t know how anyone can look at what director Rodrigo Cortés did with the film and say that it isn’t objectively cinematic. It’s one actor in a 6’x3’x2’ box for 95 minutes with only naturalistic lighting. Any filmmaker that can make that such a movie as a honest-to-god thriller (and not, say, as an experimental film à la Andy Warhol’s EMPIRE) is by definition a director who understands the craft of cinema.
Agreed—the constraints that these directors impose upon themselves almost constitute a kind of OULIPO of cinematic practice. It’d be interesting to discuss the extent to which the evident self-consciousness of the constraint hinders the effectiveness of the result. If I recall correctly Hitchcock was both frustrated at his inability to make “Rope” look entirely seamless and by his estimation that the final result was too “showy.” I haven’t seen “Buried” yet but now I’m eager to do so.
I try not to use “uncinematic” too much for the reasons outlined above–it’s inherently fuzzy and applied chiefly to films the user doesn’t like–but I would say the closest to a useful definition for me would be a flat, unimaginative use of blocking, composition, shot selection etc. that doesn’t exploit the qualities of cinema as a medium. You see this with some romantic comedies, indie dramas, and especially documentaries.
If you see a film and you’re reaction is “Why was heck was this released in theaters and not as a basic cable telefilm?,” I’d say you’re probably dealing with an “uncinematic” work.
Glenn: I’m pretty sure Andrew wasn’t correcting you. I think his use of “THIS” is internet-speak for “I agree with the quote above.”
Or maybe I’m misreading your post.
No, I was doing that W.C. Fields fooling and pretending thing, trying to make a joke out of a faked misunderstanding. Thinking better of it now, as I don’t wanna look like I’m deliberately seriously baiting or anything. But I think we’re operating on an it’s-all-good basis, so carry on!.…
Glenn: do you think that the “evident self-consciousness of constraint” is a hindrance? Doesn’t every art work contain traces of the “evident self-consciousness of the constraint” of its making? Even a work with “invisible style” is contrained by its attempts at invisibiity which are visible.
Some art works have strong traces and others possess less emphatic ones. A viewer can, as a matter of personal taste, prefer one degree of emphasis over another, but “evident self-consciousness” is only a hindrance if the viewer experiences it as such.
Under Capricorn seemed like Hitch’s first run at Vertigo from a different direction. It could have been better- I wonder about the longer version.
Ignore that comment. I was thinking about the Gregory Peck trial lawyer one. Oy..
“a film is still “cinematic” even if the director leaves the camera in one place for the entire movie”
“If it was shot on film or DV and shown in theaters, it is automatically cinematic.”
Okay, these are both true in the strict dictionary-definition sense, but not in the ‘that’s not writing, it’s typing’ sense that this discussion is primarily aimed at. I think we can probably generally agree that Nabokov’s Pale Fire is more ‘literary’ than Stephenie Meyer’s New Moon even though both are ‘literature’ and not as a matter of quality but because Nabokov does things in his prose/poetry that are virtually impossible in any other form, whereas Meyer’s book could be easily shaped into a book/stage play/box of animal crackers.
And while I agree that Gertrud/12 Angry Men/Rope are each, in their own ways, definitely cinematic, surely there are films that are relatively uncinematic, and that this is a category not necessarily related to quality (Michael Bay is a very cinematic director, for example).
“Does that mean Haynes’ MILDRED PIERCE or Fassbinder’s BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ not be considered cinematic if they had not been shown in a movie theatre?”
The Wire is pretty cinematic.
Ugh, I hate responding to these kinds of arguments, but I’ll do it if I’m misquoted, even anonymously. (Except if misquoted by Jeff Wells who is insane.)
Glenn, I appreciate your tone and your interest in my thoughts, but would have better appreciated if you hadn’t started a debate in writing about something I said as a thrown off comment (that was obviously easy to misinterpret since it was said in one minute, while pissed off and in a rush). I only know how to practice criticism through writing, for pay or for a film that I feel is worth exploring further. This is not a film that I ever intended to critique, for many, many reasons. So I’m a little annoyed at spending time and effort correcting something based on a false claim, or a misunderstanding. [Glenn, you also told me that you thought this was worth reporting because it was a good example of “the accelerated pace at which we can ‘publish’ our impressions, and how this does create a blur in the path from seeing to thinking to talking to writing.” I don’t get it. You mean your writing and publishing my comments not meant for print does? Or the reaction from the group of critics that you were part of, who reacted to my comment as if it was real life tweet, does?]
A few comments/corrections:
‑First of all I said it was hateful and misogynistic, not “misogynist.” It’s not just women who are hated on, but all the easy American targets. The director and the actors seem to hate all the characters (except for the Polanski stand-in played by Waltz, who is terrific), which, to me, is simple-minded filmmaking. I like Howard Hawks because he made really good movies. He also made films with a lot of interesting gender dynamics, but that’s not why I like him. He made films with interesting gender relationships, though, because he was interested in narrative and in presenting something that wasn’t boring. And it’s one of my vagaries of taste that I think Howard Hawks is a better filmmaker than Roman Polanski, usually. (Although I loved The Ghost Writer.)
‑I don’t like the implication, that Brian D. has kindly made explicit, that I said it was “uncinematic” because I was upset that it was misogynistic. Come on! “Uncinematic” was a separate claim, that I’ll adddress a little lower down here, but, as I made clear in person, I normally can deal with Polanski’s misogyny and smug superiority because his films are good. But when the film isn’t good, it’s harder to tolerate.
‑The source material is obviously uncinematic, but the stylistic flourishes and masterfully designed montage techniques don’t compensate for that, or do somthing different, but highlight and signal that, with each shot. It made me queasy. (Another Cronenberg, A History of Violence, is a good example of how to make a very good movie out weak material.)
‑As I mentioned to you, everything is signaled, which means there is no ambiguity. A Dangerous Method uses simple and traditional shots to convey emotional and intellectual ambiguity. This film doesn’t. To me, what differentiates film from other forms is that ambiguity that comes from the collaborative nature of filmmaking and the competing and overlapping sense impressions. No ambiguity means not cinematic, to me. If I can see the wheels turning of the writer’s intentions and then can see the puppet strings being pulled by the director then it is not a particularly good use of cinema, I think.
‑Wavelength is about cinema, isn’t it? I can’t think of many films quite as cinematic as that one. That is another good comparison, since it stays in one room. The camera doesn’t move much, and the camera does move a lot here. Rope is, of course, another good comparison, but not worth getting into here. It’s another one of my vagaries of taste that I think that Hitchcock is a better filmmaker than Polanski. (Though I like what Polanski does with bluescreen in The Ghost Writer, just as I love the painted cloud sky in Rope.)
‑To be clear (this is for you Joel), while I think the source material is dumb, I don’t think that’s where the misogyny comes from, exactly. It’s more in the way the actors (Jodie Foster in particular) perform and are presented/directed. (But of course women can hate other women and this can be reflected in their art, are you kidding? But Highsmith is too good to be a simple-minded misogynist, at least what I’ve read.)
‑Glenn, you said that the “drama’s predictable turnarounds” were to be expected in a satire. I disagree. I think a good satire would be better, that it would hate everyone equally (including, in some ways, the viewer or even the storyteller) or would at least not choose such easy targets.
‑You’re right, too, Glenn that “the whole experience touched me more than the average bad movie experience” because it’s a REALLY bad movie, like a mean American Beauty, and I don’t think I’ve disliked a film as much since that one. I certainly don’t think it’s worth this many words, mine or others.
-[This kind of bourgeois satire seems dated, and was done much better before 1971, in Cheever and other literature, and Weekend is a cinematic example.]
‑Maybe the lesson from this is to not blurt out any first reactions when surrounded by film critics! I hope this conversation, even though it was based on misunderstandings, was useful. But i think it’s not the statements I made (that are were not criticism) but the aftermath that illustrates what criticism needs to “go beyond.”
Thanks for your thoughts, Miriam, but please understand that I wasn’t writing the post with the intention of publishing a “blind item” or some kind of a clef account designed to expose some inside-baseball critic dirt. I am also sorry for misquoting you, or misremembering what you had said and quoting that. I admit it was naïve (after all this time on the internet, too!)for me not to expect that the substance of what I quoted would get raked over some coals, and I apologize for that, too. What I was hoping to do was reflect on some general ideas that were spurred by a conversation that I found kind of ironic but that demonstrated, among other things, that just because you’re on the exact same page as a colleague on one thing, it doesn’t follow that you’ll be on the same page about another. And the last thing I wanted was for my more generalized ruminations to be taken as any kind of swipe at your written work, Miriam, which is invariably thoughtful, engaging, and thoroughly worthwhile.
Hichcock is always “showy.” Had the cameras we ahve today been available to Hitch then, “Rope” would have indeed been “seamless.” But what makes it (and why I love it so) is the palpable tension between Arthur Laurents’ script, the two leads – both of whom were gay in real life – and Hitch’s (no other way to put it) “purient interest” in upper-crust gay New York life in the immediate postwar period. See also Little Jerry Salinger’s short story “Just Before the War with the Eskimos.”
Miriam: thanks for your clarification. You raise an interesting question when you say you can usually deal with Polanski’s misogyny (which I presume is detected through its manifestation in his work) because his films are good. Can a film be good and misogynistic (or racist/sexist/homophobic/etc.) at the same time? If CARNAGE had been cinematic, would this fact have made the misogyny bearable?
What I understand you to be saying is that the expert/expressive use of cinematic form (when it is present) allows you to tolerate Polanski’s misogyny. For me the question becomes: is this a personal aesthetic calibration on your part, or is it an inherent aspect/quality of the expert use of form to which any properly attuned viewer will respond?
I didn’t think you were taking a swipe at my written work, Glenn, or a swipe at me in general. (And I don’t think you were outing me at all! It’s just I’m so used to being accused of the being the boy who cried “misogyny” that someone read it and asked if it was me. The only thing I take offense to is the ever so slight implication that Polanski’s sexism upset me so that I didn’t notice his filmmaking chops.) My charge is only that I didn’t mean to engage more than one minute about this film, but was uncomfortable with comments about what I meant being so off base. I hate to be misinterpreted. Which is why I prefer to engage in criticism through my own writing. (Also, I come off like a bit of an airhead in person, as you may have noticed.)
Brian, I think I answered most of this in my too long post above. But, yes, it’s possible to make a good and misogynistic film. Rosemary’s Baby is a great example. But I think that Polanski would be a much better filmmaker if he wasn’t a misogynist, for the reasons stated above. He’d also be able to work in the US, so maybe his powers of observation, of skewering contemporary New York life, might have been a little sharper for this film.
It seems possible to me that Polanski’s legal status might not necessarily be different if he wasn’t a misogynist (which I’m not convinced about anyway).
Haven’t seen the film, but I agree that the play itself is pretty underwhelming and considerably dumber than I had hoped. It unfolds like a poor Edward Albee imitation, without the surprise or insights I look forward to from great playwrights. And perhaps most annoying of all, the characters lack credible reasons for staying together for the length of the story. Each time someone expresses a perfectly valid reason for getting up to leave, s/he is coaxed back into a chair with the flimsiest of pretenses: “Oh, wait, don’t go! Have a sip of Scotch!”
Saw/liked the play, but around the 90th time Gandolfini yelled the word CLAFOUTIS!, I was wondering why Reza didn’t just write “cake” or “brownies,” because the word is SO embarrassing.
I kinda wish Polanski had cast Chloe Moretz and Dakota Fanning instead of the female leads he went with. That would be DELIGHTFUL.
Lex: My understanding is that Moretz and Fanning tested, but Polanski thought they wouldn’t be convincing as the mothers of a couple of 11-year-olds.
I guess I still don’t understand Miriam’s comments. When she writes, “First of all I said it was hateful and misogynistic, not “misogynist.” It’s not just women who are hated on, but all the easy American targets. The director and the actors seem to hate all the characters”
If the film, or by extension of Polanski, is misanthropic then why highlight it as “misogynistic” since the latter implies an imbalance in how the film views gender? Writing that director hates all the characters suggests the film isn’t misogynistic since he isn’t singling out women. Seems like grasping at straws criticism to emphasize “misogynistic” in this case.
And if Rosemary Baby is a misogynistic film, then I hereby suggest we send the creators of most romantic comedies of recent years to the Hague for war crimes against women.
Miriam: I actually was kind of kidding, but you were right not to detect it from what I wrote. The author of Little Tales of Misogyny is one of my favorites, so I apologize to Highsmith fans all over the world for my lame joke.
Lex: The idea of Gandolfini yelling “Clafouti” over and over again is pretty hilarious to me. From what I know of Reza’s other plays, she is not shy about going for the broad dumb comedy when it works. Still looking forward to this.
Joel, oh missed that reference!
ZS- I never said misanthropic, you did. I said these characters. I’m not gonna write about the imbalance of gender in the film or in other Polanski films. Unless it’s an assignment.
Jeez, my whole point of responding was that this wasn’t “grasping at straws” criticism, but was never meant to be criticism at all. I was just venting to a Buddy. The whole point is I SAID that, didn’t write it, or I would have chosen better terms.
I don’t understand your comment on romantic comedies. They are certainly not helping the cause, if that’s what you mean. I haven’t seen a good one (or even one with an interesting woman) in recent years. (except How Do You Know.)
I don’t enjoy this kind of conversation through type. It doesn’t have the benefits of actually talking (when I’m usually joking, especially if I’m fuming) or of criticism. Or at least it doesn’t work for me. I’ll be more careful about saying something casually that could end up on a blog! But If you see me and want to have a conversation with me about this stuff, that would be fine. Or if you want to assign me something on Polanksi or romantic comedies or spotting the male POV, or reactions to the word “misogyny” or or hilarious sexism in internet comments (helLo Lex), I would be happy to write it.
Miriam, I won’t speak for anyone else, but the fact that you carry a gold cinephile card in my mind’s eye would lead me to be unable to complain about heat-of-the-moment comments about a film made while all parties speaking and hearing were basically rushing from A to B to C – at least, I’d be moved to air some fundamental disagreement with the thought process behind the complaint, without hurling too many sledgehammers at your credibility, to this day effectively unbreached.
I enjoyed CARNAGE for the script, and the actors, and Polanski’s thoroughly cinematic direction. What I am still working through is HOW the form of Polanski’s direction complicated, amplified, or mitigated the script. That’s where you find the connective tissue between CARNAGE and, say, REPULSION or KNIFE IN THE WATER, to name just two. That’s what I find fascinating.
Miriam,
I am not really picking a fight with you. I just don’t understand the logic behind your comment that the film or Polanski is misogynistic. (I could agree that Che? is guilty of that)When you say he hates all the characters, that’s as about as clear of a definition of misanthropic you can offer…in which case a charge of misogynistic seems narrow.
But hey, I have to do a lot of film writing too so I suppose I wouldn’t really wish to explain myself in greater detail either to random strangers on an internet forum. Nevertheless, it seems like a rather serious charge (at least to me it is) to make about a film or a director, even off the cuff in a forum, and especially when it ends up concealing more about a director’s vision than it reveals. So serious charges probably should be explained.
My point about romantic comedies: I haven’t seen a Polanski film that comes close to hating women as much as most romantic comedies in years.
I’d like to see Glenn’s friend actually tell Mr.Polanski his film was
“uncinematic”. I doubt she’d have the nerve.
Don’t be too sure Mr. C. Ms. Bale has the courage of her convictions, fears no man, and is quite a bit taller than Mr. Polanski. But I imagine if they were to ever meet he’d find her a helluva lot sharper and more engaging and knowledgable than the so-called journalists he bemusedly walked out on at the “Chacun son cinema” press conference at Cannes back in 2007.
I still don’t understand what “uncinematic” means. Perhaps I’m a simpleton.…but I’ve never seen a film that was “uncinematic” since they are all edited and composed with a camera. Why even speak in such terms?
Jesus.…
Is something art just because you hang it on a wall? Why is the concept of ‘varying degrees’ so hard to get?
Except if “uncinematic” is a value judgement it has virtually no descriptive power regarding shot composition or mise-en-scene. If it’s a stand-in for “non-artistic” then just say so. The idea that there is some privileged notion of “cinematic” is so narrow-minded to be pointless. Let’s just declare everyone other than Eisenstein uncinematic because, hey, only montage is cinematic.….
It’s no-longer 1915. Cinema isn’t a novelty anymore. I would think people would be tired of deciding on what can be cinematic by now.