Too many filmmakers treat architecture as mere geography—a pretty background to stand in front of while reciting dialogue. Kogonada, in his debut feature Columbus, understands that a building is a structural mandate. Modernist architecture does not simply house human beings; it dictates their movements and dwarfs their emotions.
The Geometry of Isolation
Kogonada and cinematographer Elisha Christian approached the modernist mecca of Columbus, Indiana, not with a handheld camera looking for gritty realism, but with a tripod and an obsession with geometry. During pre-production, they took exhaustive photographs of every location, mapping the specific lines, negative spaces, and symmetries of the buildings.
The resulting camera work is overwhelmingly static and perpendicular. C’est rigoureux. Rather than moving the camera to follow the actors—which implies the human is the center of the universe—Kogonada locks the camera off and forces the audience to “wait” for characters to enter the frame. The permanence of the architecture is established first; the transience of the humans is secondary.
The Physicality of Emotional Distance
The film frequently utilizes deep, flat focus to foreground the setting. But more importantly, Kogonada uses the physical elements of the architecture—fences, cantilevered walls, structural pillars—to literally cut the frame in half. He places his actors on opposite sides of these barriers, using the physical space to visually communicate their emotional detachment without needing a single line of dialogue. The building is the script.
Insights regarding Kogonada’s static shot composition and the use of architecture to dictate character blocking were synthesized from architectural analyses in The Avery Review and Dezeen.