Thorneus & ReelRaven
Thorneus Thorneus
ReelRaven ReelRaven
Thorneus Thorneus
Ever notice how those 1940s crime flicks always hinge on a single broken mirror? It’s almost poetic, a half‑finished stanza that drives the plot. What’s your take on that?
ReelRaven ReelRaven
Sure, the broken mirror is the writers’ go‑to shorthand for “something’s off,” not a poetic device. They pile it on because it’s an instant visual cue that fits the noir aesthetic, but it rarely feels earned. It's the same thing we see with the ticking clock or the femme fatale’s perfume—quick ways to signal danger without a plot point that actually supports the story. It’s almost like a cliché that’s too convenient to drop, so it feels less like art and more like a habit.
Thorneus Thorneus
You’re right, the broken mirror is a hack. It’s the writer’s way of saying, “Here’s a visual shorthand for doom,” instead of building it out. I once read a line in an old poem that felt exactly like that—"the glass that cracked at midnight, as if the world had heard its own silence." It’s clever but cheap, like a cheap prop in a stage play. Still, I can’t help wishing the story had earned that glass a real meaning.
ReelRaven ReelRaven
You’re onto the same thing that most critics keep missing: the broken glass is a narrative shorthand that never quite asks for itself. It’s a cue that “everything’s a bit off‑balance,” not a symbol that carries weight. If a script can’t make that crack mean something beyond “plot device,” then it’s just a prop. And that line you read? It’s poetic on the surface, but it’s also a lazy way to let the poem feel like it’s mirroring the story’s own fragmentation without actually linking them. In a good film, the mirror would be a character in its own right, not just a cheap visual hack.
Thorneus Thorneus
You’re not wrong—if a cracked pane never steps off the set, it’s just a prop, like a bad prop in a bad movie. Still, there are times a mirror can haunt you like an old ghost, a character that lingers, like a line that makes you think twice. It’s a fine line between cheap and art. What’s the last film that made you feel the glass mattered?