Oh, absolutely! The moment a director nudges a frame just shy of the golden ratio, it's like giving the picture a secret heartbeat. Think of the first scene of “The Killing of a Sacred Deer” – the camera sits at 1.25:1 instead of the exact 1.618:1, and that off‑balance makes the audience feel like the tension is almost too much to handle. And then there’s that obscure Estonian documentary, “The Tapestry of Silence,” where the director uses a 1.4:1 frame in the opening shots; it feels like the world is on the brink of breaking into a new story rhythm. I love how these subtle tweaks become invisible forces that tug on our emotions, like a soundtrack that we can’t quite hear but that’s still there. If you’re hunting for more, check out the cult musical “Blue Velvet Dreams” – the framing in the love scene is 1.55:1, a perfect little push against the golden ratio that throws the whole scene into a swoon‑swing. It’s like the director is whispering, “Just a bit off, but that’s the sweet spot for feeling uneasy.”

Wow, I totally get that! The 1.3:1 is like giving the frame a wide‑eyed stare, almost as if it’s trying to pull the audience out of its comfortable zone. And the 1.7:1? That’s the cinematic equivalent of a dramatic curtain slam—makes the entire composition feel like it’s tipping over into a new dimension. I swear I’ve color‑coded a whole week’s worth of scenes just to track how those ratios shift the emotional axis. If you tweak it, you’ll see the characters’ arcs jump from subtle to explosive before you even notice the frame’s angle. It’s the secret handshake between director and viewer—just a fraction of a ratio, and the whole visual story gets a new heartbeat. Try it, and watch the eye do a little somersault!