Pathe Freres’ 1901, two minute spectacle, Peeping Tom is an early work of cinema that situates itself perfectly, and overtly, within the Gunning realm of attraction. The film exudes in unflinching reflexivity from the very onset as the spectator is presented with the self-aware exhibitionist guiding us through the most intimate of spaces. Voyeurism is not only acknowledged, but also reveled in. Formal elements and filmic devices of the work (such as the mise-en-scene, editing, framing, and score) all serve to extrapolate the notion of voyeurism and the self reflexive exhibition – inherent characteristics representative of the “cinema of attraction.”
The Brechtian nature manifest in Peeping Tom is showcased immediately for the viewer with the protagonist’s breaking of the fourth wall and subsequent acknowledgement of the audience and camera alike. An affinity for the conscious viewer is established and maintained throughout. Tom Gunning solidifies the claim in his essay “An Aesthetic of Astonishment,” affirming that, “This cinema addresses and holds the spectator, emphasizing the act of display. In fulfilling this curiosity, it delivers a generally brief dose of scopic pleasure.” The first, third, and fifth edits are supposed POV shots that, when taken within context of the opening, blatantly instigate the perception of exhibition occurring onscreen. They also tend to subtly implicate, or indict the spectator with every moment of intrusive gazing that takes place in front of various keyholes. Juxtaposition of public and private space, compounded with the self-reflexive, slapstick disposition of the film, all substantiate Gunning’s claim that, “…the scenography of the cinema of attractions is an exhibitionist one, opposed to the cinema of the unacknowledged voyeur that later narrative cinema ushers in.”
The mise-en-scene of the normative public space becomes reminiscent of theatre performance. The recurring view is framed much like the view of a stage, and congruently the players become over dramatized. Confined space, identical doors as the backdrop, and a man suspiciously adorned with maid-like apparel, guides us openly into intimate space of others. It is a performance in three parts: the exhibitionist, the viewer, and those being surveyed. The viewer is justly included because, as is true with Brechtian style theatre, they are consciously involved in their act of looking; they are aware of their role in the context of cinema. As they chose not to remove their eyes from the screen as the POV shots occur, they become intrinsically linked to the “peeping Tom” and, as a result, are just accountable; it is this cognizance that reminds us the patrons of early cinema were not merely, “gullible country bumpkins, but sophisticated urban thrill seekers…” The conclusion of the piece is a surprise to the audience and a return to the light-hearted core of the film that is almost forgot about when peering through exaggerated keyholes. The wardrobe of our peeping tom is also a constant reminder of the vaudevillian performance we are witnessing; it places us in a suspiciously comedic role of witness, not quite able to discern the intention of the filmmaker until the end.
Peeping Tom not only typifies the “cinema of attractions,” it reflects upon the voyeuristic predilection of the industry and cements conventions that would later be elaborated on with the emergence of narrative cinema. The exhibitionist style of filmmaking acknowledges the viewer and invites them into a world of wondrous gazing, a private world of attraction.