American Realism in Cinema: A Homage to Art’s Influence on Film and the Masters Who Bring It to Life.

A still from the final scene from 'The Equalizer' (2014), Sony Pictures.

Earlier this week I recently found myself re-watching ‘The Equalizer’ (2014) and noticed in the final scene of Antoine Fuqua’s film, Robert McCall, portrayed by Denzel Washington, sits alone in a diner. As the camera slowly zooms out, the setting becomes unmistakably reminiscent of Edward Hopper’s 1942, iconic oil canvas painting ‘Nighthawks.’ It’s my belief that this choice by Farqua is more than a simple homage; it is a deliberate blending of American realism in both cinema and art, a powerful visual statement that speaks to the themes of isolation, moral clarity, and the vigilant spirit that permeates both the film and the broader landscape of American cinema.

Hopper’s Nighthawks has long been regarded as a quintessential representation of American urban isolation. Its depiction of four individuals in a stark, fluorescent-lit diner—each absorbed in their solitude despite their physical proximity—captures the existential loneliness that has become a hallmark of modern life. Fuqua’s use of this imagery at the conclusion of The Equalizer serves as a visual metaphor for McCall’s own journey: a solitary figure in a vast, indifferent world, quietly enforcing justice where society has failed.

This fusion of visual art and film is not unique to The Equalizer. Throughout the history of cinema, directors and cinematographers have drawn upon the rich tradition of American realism to infuse their narratives with a deeper sense of place, mood, and thematic resonance. The influence of visual art on film, particularly in the world of American realism, is a testament to the enduring power of these two mediums to reflect and shape our understanding of the world.

John Ford and the Mythic American West

Anyone who knows me or reads my blog regularly knows I cannot discuss American realism in cinema (or cinema in general) without acknowledging the monumental influence of John Ford. Ford’s The Searchers (1956) stands as a cornerstone of American film, capturing the mythic essence of the American West while simultaneously deconstructing it. The film’s sweeping vistas, captured by cinematographer Winton C. Hoch, evoke the rugged beauty of the American frontier, but it is the film’s exploration of moral ambiguity and cultural identity that cements its place in the canon of American realism.

The Searchers tells the story of Ethan Edwards (John Wayne), a Confederate veteran on a relentless quest to rescue his niece from Comanche captors. Ford, known for his mastery of visual storytelling, uses the vast, desolate landscapes of Monument Valley to mirror Ethan’s internal struggle—a man caught between the past and an uncertain future. The film’s final shot, where Ethan stands framed in a doorway, silhouetted against the open plains, is a haunting reminder of the solitary path chosen by those who, like Robert McCall, seek justice or at the very least their own form of justice, in a world that often resists it.

Frederic S. Remington's 'A Dash for the Timber' (1889)

The original painting can be found at Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas

Ford’s work was heavily influenced by the paintings of Frederic Remington, whose depictions of the American West were both romanticised and brutally realistic. Remington’s art, much like Ford’s films, captures the tension between civilization and the untamed wilderness—a tension that lies at the heart of the American experience. As stated in my previous blog entitled ‘A Love Letter to My Favourite Genre’: “... But a great Western doesn't just showcase this myth; it delves into our fascination with it through the actions of its characters. A Western is not a historical drama; it's a reflection of the era in which it's born.”

A still from John Ford's 'The Searchers' (1956). The influence of Frederick Remington is undeniable.

The cinematography in ‘The Searchers’, like Remington’s art, encapsulates this duality by juxtaposing the vast, untamed landscapes with the smallness of the human figures within them. Cinematographer Winton C. Hoch’s use of wide, sweeping shots of Monument Valley captures the awe-inspiring beauty and harshness of the frontier, echoing Remington’s ability to depict the grandeur and danger of the West. The towering rock formations and endless horizons are not just backdrops; they are characters in themselves, representing the unforgiving and often lawless nature of the world in which the film’s characters exist.

In ‘The Searchers’, the interplay of light and shadow, particularly in the film’s interior scenes, reflects the moral complexities of the characters, much like Remington’s use of light to highlight the tension between the civilised and the wild. Ethan Edwards (John Wayne), the film’s protagonist, is often framed against the stark landscape, emphasising his isolation and the internal conflict that drives his relentless pursuit. The contrast between the bright, open skies and the dark, confined spaces of the characters’ homes serves as a visual metaphor for the struggle between the ideals of civilization and the reality of a brutal, often lawless existence.

Through Hoch’s lens, Ford creates a visual narrative that mirrors Remington’s artistic exploration of the West—a place where myth and reality collide, where the beauty of the landscape is matched only by its inherent danger, and where the characters are as much a part of the land as the mountains and deserts that surround them. This cinematographic approach not only reinforces the themes of the film but also pays homage to the enduring influence of Remington’s art on the Western genre, capturing the essence of an America that is both idealised and unforgiving.

Akira Kurosawa: The Japanese Master’s Influence on American Cinema

Takashi Shimura in *Ikiru (1952) by* Akira Kurosawa

This approach to cinematography, with its emphasis on visual storytelling and the exploration of complex themes, can also be seen in Akira Kurosawa’s ‘Ikiru’ (1952). While ‘The Searchers’ delves into the mythos of the American West, ‘Ikiru’ tackles the existential crisis of modern life. Kurosawa’s film, through its meticulous composition and evocative use of light and shadow, confronts the viewer with the harsh realities of life, death, and the search for meaning. Cinematographer Asakazu Nakai employs a sombre, almost claustrophobic framing, especially in scenes depicting the protagonist, Kanji Watanabe, in his office or home—spaces that symbolise the monotony and despair of his existence.

Just as ‘The Searchers’ uses the vastness of the landscape to reflect Ethan Edwards’ isolation and internal struggle, ‘Ikiru’ uses confined spaces and muted tones to evoke a deep sense of sadness and introspection. The film’s exploration of existentialism is visually articulated through long, unbroken takes that force the audience to sit with Watanabe’s despair, compelling them to face the stark truths of life’s fleeting nature and the inevitability of death.

Both ‘The Searchers’ and ‘Ikiru’ use their cinematography not merely as a tool for visual spectacle, but as a means to deepen the narrative’s emotional impact. While Hoch’s work in ‘The Searchers’ amplifies the tension between civilization and wilderness, Nakai’s cinematography in ‘Ikiru’ brings the viewer face-to-face with the universal struggle for meaning in an indifferent world. These films, though culturally and thematically different, share a common thread in their ability to use the power of visual storytelling to explore profound human truths, making the audience not just observers, but participants in the characters' existential journeys.

Leonardo Di Caprio and Brad Pitt in 'Once Upon A Time In Hollywood' (2019)

Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai (1954) and Yojimbo (1961) are seminal works that blend Japanese cultural elements with the narrative structure and thematic concerns of American Westerns. These films, with their emphasis on honour, duty, and the solitary warrior, resonate deeply with the themes explored in American realism. Kurosawa’s meticulous attention to detail and his use of natural landscapes as extensions of his characters’ emotional states would go on to influence filmmakers like George Lucas, Sergio Leone, and, notably, Quentin Tarantino.

Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019) is a love letter to the golden age of American cinema, yet it also bears the unmistakable mark of Kurosawa’s influence. The film’s varied visual styles, from the gritty realism of 1960s Los Angeles to the stylized violence of spaghetti Westerns, reflect a deep appreciation for the global exchange of cinematic ideas. Cinematographer Robert Richardson, who collaborated with Tarantino on the film, uses classical composition and camera movement to pay homage to the traditions of both American and Japanese cinema, creating a visual spectacle that is as much a celebration of film history as it is a narrative about the fading stars of Hollywood’s past.

Cinematography as Art: The Legacy of Barry Lyndon, Blade Runner, and The Thin Red Line

In exploring the intersection of American realism and visual art in cinema, I argue that it is essential to recognise the contributions of cinematographers who have elevated the medium to new heights. Stanley Kubrick’s Barry Lyndon (1975) is often cited as a masterclass in the use of natural light and period-specific visual aesthetics. Cinematographer John Alcott, working closely with Kubrick, employed groundbreaking techniques to capture the look of 18th-century paintings, using candlelight and wide-angle lenses to create a sense of authenticity that immerses the viewer in the world of the film.

Similarly, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982), with cinematography by Jordan Cronenweth, pushed the boundaries of visual storytelling. The film’s dystopian vision of the future is brought to life through a carefully crafted blend of shadows, neon lights, and rain-soaked cityscapes. Drawing inspiration from film noir and the art of Edward Hopper, Blade Runner creates a world that is both futuristic and hauntingly familiar, a reflection of the anxieties and aspirations of the late 20th century.

Terrence Malick’s The Thin Red Line (1998) is another landmark in the fusion of cinematography and art. Emmanuel Lubezki’s work on the film captures the raw, untamed beauty of the Pacific islands during World War II, juxtaposing the horrors of war with the serene, almost ethereal landscapes. Lubezki’s use of natural light and his ability to find beauty in the most unexpected places echo the work of photographers like Dorothea Lange and Walker Evans, whose images of Depression-era America have become iconic representations of the country’s resilience and struggle.

Wally Pfister and the Dark Knight: Redefining the Superhero Genre

In more recent years, the collaboration between Christopher Nolan and cinematographer Wally Pfister has redefined the visual language of the superhero genre. The Dark Knight (2008), the second instalment in Nolan’s Batman trilogy, is a film that blends the gritty realism of a crime drama with the larger-than-life spectacle of a comic book adaptation.

The Dark Knight (2008)

The DC Universe is arguably the greatest example of American Realism in the comic book genre. The Dark Knight Trilogy and Matt Reeves ‘The Batman’ (2022) are great examples of this.

Pfister’s decision to shoot significant portions of the film in IMAX, combined with his use of a colour palette that emphasises the Joker’s chaotic presence, creates a visual experience that is both intimate and epic. The choice to fill the screen with an aspect ratio of 4:3 during key moments, such as the bank heist prologue, immerses the viewer in the vastness of Gotham City while maintaining a sense of claustrophobic tension.

The influence of American realism is evident in the way The Dark Knight portrays its characters and settings. Gotham, like the urban landscapes in Hopper’s paintings, is a city teetering on the edge of chaos, its streets filled with shadows and uncertainty. Yet, amid this darkness, Pfister’s cinematography finds moments of unexpected brightness, as seen in the brutal interrogation scene where Batman confronts the Joker. This contrast between light and dark, order and chaos, is central to the film’s exploration of moral ambiguity—a theme that resonates deeply with the tradition of American realism.

Rachel Morrison and Mudbound: Capturing the Essence of an Era

Rachel Morrison’s work on Mudbound (2017) is a testament to the power of cinematography to evoke the spirit of a time and place. Set in Mississippi in the 1940s, the film tells the story of two families—one Black, one white—struggling to survive in a society defined by racial segregation and economic hardship. Morrison’s cinematography, inspired by the work of WPA photographers like Dorothea Lange and Walker Evans, captures the harsh realities of sharecropper life with a stark, unflinching gaze.

Shooting digitally, Morrison avoided the golden nostalgia often associated with period films, instead opting for a more naturalistic approach that emphasises the raw, unforgiving landscape. The use of natural light and the film’s subdued colour palette create a sense of authenticity that draws the viewer into the world of the characters, making their struggles and triumphs all the more poignant.

As The Equalizer concludes with its haunting evocation of Nighthawks, it reminded me of the profound connection between visual art and cinema. Directors and cinematographers like John Ford, Akira Kurosawa, Robert Richardson, Wally Pfister, and Rachel Morrison have drawn upon the rich traditions of American realism to create films that resonate with audiences on both an emotional and intellectual level.

These artists understand that the power of cinema lies not only in its ability to tell stories but also in its capacity to evoke the beauty, complexity, and contradictions of the human experience. Through their work, they have ensured that the legacy of American realism lives on, continuing to inspire new generations of filmmakers and audiences alike.