Orson Welles’s film, Citizen Kane, also uses deep focus shots, a groundbreaking technique in 20th-century cinema. Kane, a nine-year-old child, is shown outside through a window near the start of the movie as his parents consult a banker about taking him. The frame is wide with each character occupying a piece of it: Kane’s father on the left, the banker in the center and Kane’s mother on the right. Though Kane takes up space in this shot, he is farther away, playing as an innocent child unaware as to how his life is going to change—and completely powerless. This dynamic, however, does not last for very long. As Kane grows into adulthood, we see him becoming head of a newspaper, and eventually he runs for governor of New York. In a shot of Kane's campaign, the setting is on a large stage, and the light is shining bright on him. We start in the audience, and the camera dollies forward, and Kane becomes a larger portion of the frame, ultimately looming over us as the camera records him from a low- angle shot. Low-angle shots become a common occurrence throughout the film until the end of his life. 

The final moments of Kane are shown to us in the opening scene of Citizen Kane. Kane is lying on the floor, unable to speak more than the word "rosebud," in the gloomy darkness. This scene highly contrasts the rest of the movie, as the mise-en-scène is dark and empty. Other shots in the movie showed Kane's whole body and face, but we can barely see any of him due to zoomed shots. We don’t see Kane as a tall and powerful figure but as this sad and old man, with a shot of only his hand on the ground. Welles wants us to feel the sad and powerless man Kane ended up becoming. Kane's power dynamics are ultimately shown to have culminated throughout the movie, going from nothing to something to nothing once more. The constant need for control ultimately left him helpless, a theme that Welles plays with throughout the movie.

The setting is placed in Djibouti, the sun is high, and the desert is dry and open. There’s not much else to see but Sentain and Galoup in the horizon, and the legionnaires in the background. As the scene starts Galoup and Sentain aren’t too close to each other. But as they start to initiate contact, they circle each other, and their proximity begins to come closer to one another. This proximity is further illustrated by the cinematography. At first the shot is a wide frame, but once they are physically close, the camera does a close up of both Sentain and Galoup's face. The isolation of Sentain and Galoup from the rest of the legionnaires shows both intimacy and confrontation.  Not only does the setting play apart in the climax of tension, but the lighting and costumes accentuate uniformity and vulnerability. While the military uniform shows authority, the sweat on their skin shows their sensuality. 

Denis’s use of diegetic sound in this scene also further illustrates the intimacy in this scene, as the shot starts the audience can only hear the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. But once they acknowledge each other and start circling, non-diegetic starts to play.  Drums play in the background as if battle were about to ensue, followed by a man singing in a fierceful and dramatic way. The overall mise-en-scene communicates what the characters are not in this scene; Galoup’s fierce obsession with Sentain. 

In this scene, we’re inside Natalie's house, it’s clean, and the lighting is subdued. Natalie walks in through the door, and immediately, we see her wounds. As Jimmy asks her what’s wrong, she becomes more distressed. The sound is diegetic, which emphasizes the intimacy between the two; there is nothing else for the audience to focus on but them. Jimmy decides to tend to Natalie and brings her ice wrapped in a paper towel. The camera focuses on Jimmy's hand as he carefully wraps the ice, his movements rather soft and intentional. Throughout the scene, the cinematography is relatively intimate, reinforcing the complexity of their relationship. The emphasis of close-ups draws the viewer into the characters. For example, as the camera focuses on Natalie, we see her vulnerability: her eyes are watery, and her face is red from her wounds. Natalie's vulnerability makes the audience feel empathy for her, unaware that she has purposely set herself up. After their conversation about Jimmy finding Dodd, the camera closes up on him flexing his hand. The hand flex is very important; the emphasized close-up and quick shot to his face shows the fragmentation of his memory. This acknowledgement that his hand hurts and brief recognition of what may have happened leads the audience to one thing: he knows something happened, but Jimmy continues to lie to himself. Ultimately, the scene’s quiet tension and intimate framing not only reveal the emotional weight between Natalie and Jimmy but also the subtle unraveling of Jimmy’s reality. 

This scene shows the psychological play that is Memento. The interplay between intimacy and violence, vulnerability and control, shows the film's main theme—that memory can be deceptive— is portrayed as the audience sympathizes with Natalie. While the audience may sympathize with Natalie, it is known later what her intent was. This reversal leaves the audience with the question of whether or not their relationship is real or if we’re being deceived through Jimmy’s unreliable memory. Through the use of diegetic sound and cinematography, we get to further explore the themes of vulnerability, deceit, and the unreliability of personal truth. 

One of the most striking examples is towards the end of the film. Lynch’s manipulation of mise-en-scene is shown when Betty and Rita are sitting in the opera house. The setting is uncanny: a conspicuous woman with glamorous makeup and blue hair sits alone in a terrace box, and the camera makes sure to note her. While on stage, there seems to be an entertainer who appears devilish in an all-black suit. This man tells the audience directly that the show is a tape and that “everything is an illusion”. This moment breaks the fourth wall, implicating not just the characters but the viewers themselves in the illusion. The mise-en-scene here– through staging and costume– creates a theatrical reality that destabilizes the narrative

As the scene progresses, the entertainer commands, “Listen”, and a blue, thunder-like light flashes. The camera cuts to Betty, who begins to convulse in her seat as the sound intensifies. The sensory overload serves to fracture the audience's suspension of disbelief, making the illusion feel overwhelming. The mise-en-scene amplifies this tension: the lighting becomes harsh, the sound loud, and Betty’s reaction highlights the abnormalities, which are clarified once the audience learns that this reality is Betty’s dream.

  After Betty calms, the speaker brings out a woman wearing a red dress. Her makeup is extravagant yet smudged, suggesting she has been crying. The camera repeatedly cuts to Betty and Rita, whose emotional responses mirror the performance. The woman sings a Spanish song, her bare voice is lone without music, yet it fills the room with longing. The mise-en-scene is stripped down, bare, without any movement and orchestration. The lyrics, which speak of yearning, resonate with Betty and Rita, who become overwhelmed by the performance. By the end, they have forgotten that it is just a pre-recorded tape, and the woman faints dramatically as the tape continues rolling.

This scene emphasizes Lynch’s mastery of mise-en-scene, and the minimalistic visual and diegetic sound evokes emotion from the audience. Through costuming, sound, and editing, Lynch blurs the line between reality and illusion. Lynch creates a space that is dream-like and captivating, which lures the audience in while manipulating our very beliefs through performativity.

Bong Joon-Ho’s film is primarily filmed in the Kim home and the Park family's mansion. However, some scenes are filmed outside— like later in the film, we see Kim Ki Woo walking up the steep mountain in winter. The mise-en-scene here is cold: the sun is covered by thick clouds, the palette overtaken by greys and icy whites. The environment is so bleak that the viewer can feel the cold. Ki-woo stands exposed in this landscape for hours, and as Kim lingers on the snowy mountain, we see the family inside the home. In contrast, the Park home—visible only at a distance—glows with warm light. Inside, the new family snuggles on a couch, insulated from the snowy cold outdoors. Bong uses these opposing colour temperatures to construct a visual metaphor: warmth and comfort are for the wealthy; coldness and discomfort are for the poor.

More importantly, the mise-en-scene emphasizes spatial relationships that symbolize class immobility. Ki-woo is physically elevated on a mountain, yet the height brings him no closer to wealth or comfort. Instead, he is farther than ever from the life he imagines. His climb becomes a bitter reversal of the idea of “rising in society”. The wealthy house sits below him, but not within reach; it is clear yet not socially attainable. Bong uses this idea to show that social mobility isn’t a vertical climb but a fantasy that the poor are encouraged to imagine but not achieve. The shift in Ki-woo’s positioning during the film further reinforces this idea. Early on, when he first approaches the Park home, the camera is placed low, framing him against bright sunlight. This early mise-en-scene shows a sense of hope and possibility. The path to the home is open, but in contrast to later in the film, the same house is a distant object. The mise-en-scene shows that wealth is out of reach, both physically and metaphorically. The visual barriers represent the systemic barriers that erase the progress he thought he had made. 

Ultimately, Bong Joon-ho uses these visual contrasts to comment on the false promise that social mobility has under capitalism. Ki-woo may climb a mountain, but the climb leads to observation, not access. Poverty in Parasite is not something one escapes through hard work or aspiration; it’s a blockade full of numerous barriers. The Parks' home becomes a symbol of fantasy that can only be looked at from afar. Bong’s conclusion can be viewed as that for people like Ki-woo, the dream of rising out of poverty is just a dream, seen from a distance and unreachable in reality.