Stepping Into the Glimmering Effect of Oz

Stepping Into the Glimmering Effect of Oz

With a film like The Wizard of Oz, of which nearly every sequence has become part of the iconography of American popular culture, it can be difficult to locate a singularly affective scene. This past week, I rewatched the film sitting next to my grandmother, who very well could have been sitting next to me the first time I watched it 20 years ago. Although we try our best to be quiet, respectful movie-watching companions, there was one scene that made me mutter aloud to her, “It is so beautiful. How did they film this?” and then promptly scour online bookstores for MGM production tell-alls. The scene that elicited such a response from me was none other than Dorothy’s entrance into Oz. As Dorothy literally steps into Technicolor, we are invited to journey with her into a world unknown.

        Although the magic of Technicolor flooding the screen in this scene can hardly be overstated, there is nothing necessarily spectacular about our first glance of Oz. If someone were to place in front of me a printed photo of the image of Dorothy’s door open to the Land of Oz, it would provoke little response in me. Surely, the image is still fantastical, but when isolated from the rest of the sequence, the image loses all the cinematic mechanisms that inform it and allow it to move me so deeply. When considering the rhetorical effect produced by elements like the film’s diegesis, audio-visual power, acting style, and framing, it is important to keep in mind that rhetoric is about persuading and affecting an audience. Therefore, part of the purpose of employing rhetoric in films is simply to convince the viewer to suspend their disbelief and enter the world into which they are being invited. In the case of The Wizard of Oz, it helps that we get stride in on the shoulders of Dorothy, an ordinary girl who, like us, is an outsider to the idiosyncrasies of Munchkinland. Judy Garland’s acting style helps usher us in, the realism of her character allowing us to also inhabit her sense of charmed wonder and trusting curiosity. We watch as Dorothy slowly walks into this world of color, but after following her for a few paces, the shot continues but without Dorothy in the frame – it is now our turn to look around and discover Oz for ourselves. The crane long shot permits us the same mobility that Dorothy has as she tiptoes farther, and it gives us the kinesthetic effect of slowly spinning around with eyes wide, taking it all in.

            Before Dorothy leaves her house, there is a brief beat of silence as she reaches for the doorknob, stark in contrast with the clamor of the spinning tornado. This transitional moment helps prepare us for the swell of ethereal music and chirping birds that commences as we peer outside. The shot is so captivating that it is hard to tell if the music is diegetic or not, but either way, its effect is felt as the angelic, otherworldly music sweeps us into Oz. Almost like an overture of Oz, the orchestral audio incorporates notes of Dorothy’s musical numbers and hints of the Munchkins’ diddies. As the crane shot roves over a view of the yellow brick road’s spiral, the audio similarly harkens to the tornado, but now its whistling “waoooohs” are distant and sound more like “oooohs” of wonder. This audio-visual effect helps convince us that we might be safe in this foreign place of magic and color. I noticed that both the high-angled long shot and the gentle swell of sound help ease us and Dorothy into Oz, providing space to breathe as Technicolor invigorates the film. Imagine how different Dorothy’s introduction (and, therefore, our introduction as well) would have been if in the very moment that Dorothy opened the door of her Kansan home, Glinda’s bubble immediately shot down from the sky and the Munchkins quickly greeted her with a choreographed musical number. The immediate effect of entering such a world as Oz is not found first in the playful joy that its mysterious splendor evokes in us; rather, its immediate effect is in the awe it produces, a slack-jawed and wide-eyed wonder. Before we can giggle along with the Munchkins and encounter Glinda’s effervescence, we must first feel the transcendent effect of being swept off to somewhere tantalizingly unfamiliar.

When Dorothy returns to the frame, she says what is perhaps the most iconic line in the film: “Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” This remark is one that you might expect to be delivered with apprehension or fear; however, Judy Garland says this obvious statement with pure curiosity and wonder. The campy humor of the dialogue (which is taking place with a dog, after all) and the silliness of the Munchkins peeping a glance at the newcomer add an element of tongue-in-cheek irony to the gently satirical tone which much of the film utilizes. Then, as if to confirm our suspicion that Dorothy might actually find her sudden change in location joyfully, she adds, “We must be over the rainbow!” Without delay, the viewer is sure to feel the same wonder that captivates Dorothy. The immediate effect of this sequence bottles up the glimmering hope of a world where the unfamiliar is not scary, but rather inviting.

12 July 2024