Prospectus Background

April 14, 2026

Please enjoy the following draft of the prospectus background that is still in progress:

The process of production design is not one of simplicity; Each new script unveils an unlimited, unique potential for designers to explore, requiring technical, creative, and practical skills (Barnwell, 2004, 14). One must first allow all limitations to escape their minds to truly unleash something worthwhile (after all, a solution can always be created… perhaps besides budget). Narrative is the driving force, of course, in the entire process, leading the architect to requirements within the realm of general architectural knowledge, such as historical precedents, and human perception, emotionally and physically. This is where traditional architectural pedagogy lacks, as it focuses on the “problem-solving” aspect of design, often failing to acknowledge that spaces are constantly experienced and lived as a sequence of events. Although the films examined do not precisely fall into specific categories, it is necessary for this prospectus to first grasp the goals of surreal and fantasy architecture. The chosen filmography stands independently of other various genres, avoiding realism as its end goal, allowing the films to fully immerse into the fictional worlds.

            Surrealism is a stylization we don’t see quite as often, making the architecture itself challenging to define in such a way that pertains to the other genres. In the past, more specifically when the movement was first introduced (1920s), there was a bit more correspondence of the notion of Surrealism. The French theorist and co-founder of surrealism himself claimed, “I believe in the future resolution of these two states, dream and reality, which are seemingly so contradictory, into a kind of absent reality, a surreality,” (Brenton, 1924, 14). The concept is entirely open-ended, rejecting the reign of logic, instead embracing the “psychic automatism in its pure state” (Brenton, 1924, 26). In other words, the subject is about expressing unconventional creativity, revealing the unconscious mind, ironically relating to the leading objective of this capstone.

            Fantasy, too, stretches the bounds of reality, having strong tendencies to seep into different styles and genres of film. The architecture within is meant to excite the audience, creating a spectacle that is seemingly familiar, yet unusual, “a reality captured and made strange,”(Walters, 2011). Sets are able to expand past the boundaries and possibilities of the world, which is why there is so much appeal around it, opening the doors to many other subcategories of the genre. “Most Western literature contained huge amounts of material 20th-century readers would think of as fantastical. It is, however, no simple matter to determine the degree to which various early writers distinguished, before the rise of science, between what we would call fantastical and what we would call realistic,” (Clute and Grant, 1997, 338). The entire basis of everything within fantasy is based on the story; perhaps this is the purpose of the lack of a specific definition of the genre itself.

Similarly, the two films that are on the current forefront of analysis, Poor Things (2023) and Wicked (2024), don’t necessarily adapt to a specific genre, but blend into several. To understand the architecture of the designs is first to comprehend the components of the genres within. It is most challenging but most rewarding when the scenographer does not aim to identify the category of the film, but a basis of knowledge is crucial in the later analysis. As Walter states, “We must resist the straightforward suggestion that placing a film in one genre excludes it from any other genre of cinema,” (Walters, 2011). Similarly, we must not do the same with architecture when discussing its place in film. Scenographers intentionally blend together styles, tones, and genres to create new, monumental environments that perfectly fit the narrative. “A focus on the worlds themselves, rather than on the individual narratives occurring within them or the various media windows through which those narratives are seen and hear, becomes more interesting the larger the world that one is considering, and can provide a more holistic approach to analysis, especially when the worlds in question are trans narrative and transmedia ones,” (Wolf, 2012, 12).

The relationship between architecture and narrative are not merely metaphorical. There is an extreme focus on the haptic qualities of cinematic spaces (such as the texture, lighting, and sequencing) to determine the translations of storytelling. “Cinema, through the art of montage, teaches us how to curate the user’s journey through a building through a series of reveals, transitions, and emotional peaks,” (Bruno, 2002). Designing moments of wonder and discovery are prioritized by the cinema, but often forgotten in the sanitized, repetitive designs of contemporary architecture. By deconstructing how these movies borrow multiple architectural languages and use symbolic ornament, one may begin to understand that these techniques are not merely theatrical but components rooted in haptic architecture. If architectural form can tell a story with the same intensity as surreal, fantasy films, it can alter the user’s experience of time and place, creating imaginative engagement within the built environment, rather than passive consumption. According to Gernot Böhme, the atmosphere is the “inter-medium” between the physical environment and the human subject. Surreal fantasy movies excel at creating atmospheres through hyper-saturated color palettes and exaggerated materiality, (Böhme, 2017).

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Bibliography

Barnwell, Jane. Production Design: Architects of the Screen. London: Wallflower Press, 2004.

Böhme, Gernot. Atmospheric Architectures: The Aesthetics of Felt Spaces. Edited and translated by Tina Engels-Schwarzpaul. London: Bloomsbury Visual Arts, 2017.

Breton, André. Manifestoes of Surrealism. Translated by Richard Seaver and Helen R. Lane. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1969.

Bruno, Giuliana. Atlas of Emotion: Journeys in Art, Architecture, and Film. New York: Verso, 2002.

Clute, John, and John Grant, eds. The Encyclopedia of Fantasy. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1997.

Furby, Jacqueline, and Claire Hines. Fantasy. Routledge Film Guidebooks. London: Routledge, 2012.

Walters, James. Fantasy Film: A Critical Introduction. Oxford: Berg, 2011.

Wolf, Mark J. P. Building Imaginary Worlds: The Theory and History of Subcreation. New York: Routledge, 2012.

If you have been following along, please let me know if you can think of any other background research topics I can touch on to better understand my topic! Other critiques are also welcome of course :)