But if our current filmmakers of movie musicals are going to look toward traditions for their cinematic, genre-beholden influences, why not borrow some of the best “traditions” we’ve got? The 1971 film adaptation ofFiddler on the Roof, a classic musical that made its Broadway debut in 1964, was directed by thelateNorman Jewison, previously known for such acclaimed works asIn the Heat of the NightandThe Thomas Crown Affair. Jewison’s work on this film is beautiful, visually impressive, and constructed out of inventive intention. But unlike our modern musical films, Jewison’s work does not need to call attention to itself at every turn. As much as I love directorial spectacle, Jewison’sFiddler on the Roofreminds its audience that the most important aspect of a film is its inherent humanity, and a director exists to serve and foster that, not necessarily their bravado-fueled compositions.
Fiddler on the Roof
In pre-revolutionary Russia, a Jewish peasant with traditional values contends with marrying off three of his daughters with modern romantic ideals while growing anti-Semitic sentiment threatens his village.
Why Do Norman Jewison’s Visuals Work So Well in ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?
The opening moments ofFiddler on the Roofaren’t made of ostentatious oners or loud, quick-cut montages of neck-grabbing attention. Instead, in the beautiful reds and oranges of a sunrise, the camera slowly surveys a village waking up, until settling quietly on its main character, the poor milkman Tevye (ChaimTopol). In this subtle film overture, Jewison conveys to us that he is not our star; the world and its protagonist are the stars, the nucleus from which everything else branches. The scenes, whether traditionally performed or sung, tend to be covered in edits that last longer than you might expect, with focal lengths that are more than happy to live in an atypically wide or surprisingly close space.Fiddler on the Roof’s sense of coverage, of visual construction, doesn’t hyperbolically permeate or shift depending on the whim of the people covering and constructing its scenes. The look of the film is patiently human, inviting us to lean forward and meet the film actively, rather than blowing us back with loud, ever-disrupting gimmickry and trickery.
This is not to say Jewison is not an impressive, noticeable visual director; this is to say he’s such an impressive visual director that he doesn’tneedto show us he is. Moreover, his more stylistic choices are always rooted in an intentional highlighting of character or theme. In theopening number"Tradition," the film cuts rapidly between the craftspeople in the middle of performing their tasks, fusing their actions with the music, underlining how important such senses of communal duty are to this village of Anatevka. When a character needs space to be heard — like a Russian singer congratulating Tevye on an upcoming wedding, or Tevye himself communicating wordlessly to God at the end of Act One — Jewison’s camera movement cleanly moves to actively gives them that space, showing himself to be such a generous director indeed. A happy wedding is disrupted cruelly by the oppressive Russian occupiers; Jewison cuts this with unprecedented, fierce, and fearsome quick cuts that delineate the fears of the village because such cutting rhythms (and such forces suddenly present) are so foreign to us.
Why Do Audiences Have To Be Tricked Into Seeing Musicals?
If Hollywood can help it, it avoids marketing movies as musicals whenever possible.
Even its most objectively stylized sequence — a dream sequence in which Tevye tells his wife Golde (Norma Crane) of the beyond-the-grave omens portended by a vengeful spirit (Ruth Madoc) — is tracked to the subjective point of view of Tevye himself, not to the need to flex by Jewison. Thissequence has a bizarrecolor palette, an unreal production design, a series of exaggerated camera angles, and goddamn ghosts popping out of graves screaming “PEARLS!” But none of this is an extraneous, empty spectacle. It needs to be filmed and presented this way because Tevye needs it to be presented this way. In his keen, wise patience, control, and intentionality of filmmaking techniques, of only using a “performative style” when his material and characters demand it, Jewison more than proves himself one of our great understanders of how to film musicals with taste and organically-discovered panache.
What Is ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ Really About?
Ultimately,Fiddler on the Roofis about a group of people stuck on theprecipice between tradition and change. Some of these changes are happily if difficultly discovered, social progressions and expansions of restrictive mores about wealth, love, and the patriarchy. Some of these changes are brutally foisted upon them, as the film ends with the Jewish people of Anatevka being forcibly displaced by the Russian government. But in the characters' new movements, journeys, and re-found destinies, they keep the traditions that serve them. The fiddler on the roof climbs down and follows them. By examining the traditional filmmaking ofFiddler on the Roofand carrying the most useful techniques with them, perhaps our future musical movies can sing even brighter.
Fiddler on the Roofis available to rent on Apple TV+ in the U.S.
