Watched and Read - December 28, 2025

 

Here’s what I watched and read last week… 

 

MOVIES

Wake Up Dead Man (2025), directed by Rian Johnson, is a fun and engaging whodunit. I liked it much more than Glass Onion. Glenn Close is terrific and deserves an Oscar nomination, and Johnson should also be recognized for his writing.

Bugonia (2025), directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, was one I enjoyed—much more than Poor Things. Having written a book on confinement cinema, it was especially cool to see Bugonia embody many of the characteristics I discuss.

The Piano Teacher (2001), directed by Michael Haneke, is a tough film to watch, but it is very good. Some moments reminded me of Caché, particularly in the way Haneke casually depicts violence. This is a film that will stay with me for a long time.

Metropolitan (1990) is a very good comedy directed by Whit Stillman. The film was released just as independent filmmaking was beginning to take off in the United States. Its clever dialogue is one of its strongest components, so it’s no surprise that the film was nominated for Best Original Screenplay. What I especially love, though, is the upper-class setting Stillman creates on such a low budget. This is what separates Metropolitan from other indie films of the period, such as Richard Linklater’s Slacker (1991) or Kevin Smith’s Clerks (1994).

The Grandmaster (2013), directed by Wong Kar-wai, is a beautiful martial arts film about Ip Man (Tony Leung). The fight sequences are awesome, and both Tony Leung and Zhang Ziyi are excellent. At times, I found myself lost or confused by the film’s plotting, even on this second viewing. My reaction is similar to how I once felt about the Coen brothers’ Miller’s Crossing, which I now consider one of their masterpieces, though I didn’t at first. I’m beginning to feel the same way about The Grandmaster, which makes me want to watch it again.

The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim (2024) is a very cool animated film set 200 years before the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I had to look up some of the names and places of Middle-earth to re-familiarize myself with Tolkien’s fantasy world.

Christmas Vacation (1989). I watch it every Christmas and still love it. Chevy Chase buying lingerie is one of my favorite scenes, and of course I love the moment when he loses it after he doesn’t get his bonus.

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TV

I very much enjoyed Netflix’s The Beast in Me. It has some great Hitchcockian moments and plenty of cool twists. The series reminded me of 1990s thrillers such as Primal Fear, The Game, and The Talented Mr. Ripley. Arguably, the best thing about the miniseries is Claire Danes and Matthew Rhys—both performances are excellent.

Plubribus is definitely one of the best TV shows of the year. Vince Gilligan has created an intriguing and highly engaging story, and I can’t wait for the next season.

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BOOKS

We Live Here Now (2025) by Sarah Pinborough is an excellent Gothic supernatural novel and a new take on the haunted house narrative. I won’t say too much about the plot, but I love the way the book shifts points of view between Emily and Freddie—very effective. The title feels like an homage to Shirley Jackson. Definitely one of the best books I’ve read this year, and I’m so glad Stephen King recommended it.

Surplus Enjoyment (2022) by Slavoj Žižek is one of his best books since Sex and the Failed Absolute. Surplus enjoyment is a Lacanian notion: enjoyment always involves suffering—enjoying too much—or what Lacan calls jouissance. For example, Žižek views conspiracy theorists as a form of surplus enjoyment. They doubt all existing theories and then construct one grand explanation, which, for Žižek, gives them an overwhelming sense of enjoyment. But it is also detrimental to the big Other—the symbolic structures that hold society together. This is why jouissance is linked to the death drive: suffering for one’s enjoyment. Žižek offers many other examples, but the highlight of the book is his reading of Todd Phillips’ Joker.

The Uncool by Cameron Crowe might be one of my favorite reads this year. It chronicles Crowe’s experiences writing for Rolling Stone magazine in the 1970s. If you love classic rock, this is a must-read. I also recommend Crowe’s book on filmmaker Billy Wilder.

Watched and Read - December 14, 2025

 

Here’s what I watched and read last week…

 

 

MOVIES

Jay Kelly (2025), directed by Noah Baumbach, is an excellent film, featuring strong performances by Adam Sandler and Laura Dern. It is definitely one of George Clooney’s best acting roles since The Descendants. The film reminded me somewhat of The Player, as well as 8½ and perhaps even Death in Venice. It is definitely one of the top films of 2025.

The Pervert’s Guide to Cinema (2006), directed by Sophie Fiennes, is a three-part documentary featuring philosopher Slavoj Žižek, who analyzes a range of films through the lens of psychoanalytic theory. I have always found the sections on the gaze, fantasy, and ontology the most fascinating. I am particularly drawn to his argument that reality is ontologically incomplete and that we are always haunted by an ultimate version of ourselves. As I am finishing my book on Hitchcock, I wanted to revisit the documentary, since many of the concepts Žižek discusses are central to my work.

The Million Dollar Hotel (2000), directed by Wim Wenders, is another film featured on the Criterion Channel as part of a collection centered on hotels. The film follows an ensemble cast of eclectic characters who live in a hotel. Filmed at the Rosslyn Hotel in Los Angeles, the plot involves the murder of one of the residents, though the film is less a traditional whodunit than an atmospheric character study centered on Tom Tom (Jeremy Davies) and Eloise (Milla Jovovich). Bono shares a story credit, and U2 contributes several songs to the soundtrack. It takes some time to adjust to Davies’s unusual performance, and the film is slow-paced—as most of Wenders’s films are. While it is nowhere near as great as Paris, Texas or Wings of Desire, or even Perfect Days, which I loved, it is still worth checking out.

My Blueberry Nights (2007) is not as strong as Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood for Love or Chungking Express, but it is still worth seeing, especially for Darius Khondji’s awesome cinematography.

Mahjong (1996) is the last Edward Yang film I watched on the Criterion Channel, and I enjoyed it. Of all the Yang films I’ve seen so far, this one has the most humor.

 

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TV

I finished the fourth season of Slow Horses and found it the toughest to watch. As always, there are big surprises and strong performances, but this is by far the most violent season.

 

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BOOKS

I’m almost finished reading Slavoj Žižek’s Quantum History: A New Materialist Philosophy (2025). Žižek offers some intriguing interpretations of ontology through the lens of quantum mechanics. He has been writing on this topic for some time, and I’ve never fully understood his arguments before, but I think I finally grasp what he’s getting at this time. I’ll try to write a review of the book once I’m finished.

 

Watched and Read - September 14, 2025

 

Here’s what I watched and read…

MOVIES

Come Back to the Five and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean (1982). I saw this a long time ago on cable in the late 1990s, so I was excited to see it available to stream on the Criterion Channel—along with a bunch of other Robert Altman films. It’s a very good film with great performances. I especially loved the set design. Anyone interested in fandom studies should definitely check this out.

Fool For Love (1985). I read that Altman was adapting a lot of plays in the 1980s. This one I’d never seen, and am not sure if I understood it. But I enjoyed the motel set and the performances.

That Cold Day in the Park (1969). Excellent film. I had no idea what was going to happen when I was watching it. Sandy Dennis’ performance is amazing. This was Altman’s third film and you can see he’s developing his style.

Friendship (2024). Couldn’t connect with the film’s dark humor.

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TV

Task. First episode was very good. Gritty and dark. I love Mark Ruffalo - one of my favorite actors. And it was very cool to see Martha Plimpton!

I finished the seventh season of Little House on the Prairie and enjoyed it. I watched the show when I was very young and don’t remember much from it. I’ve heard the last few seasons aren’t that great, so I watched episode one of the eighth season. They introduced Nancy to replace Nellie. Not sure if I’m going to continue.

I really enjoyed the Strange New Worlds episode “Terrarium.” It might be one of the best they’ve done. It reminded me of “Darmok” from The Next Generation, where Picard is stuck on a planet with a Tamarian. They have to use metaphors to communicate with each other.

“Wink of an Eye,” Star Trek, season three of the original series. I always loved this one. Kirk accelerates and everyone around him slows down. I watched it for research for a new novel I’m writing, which I’m almost done with!

The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, “Hangover.” Tony Randall plays an alcoholic who blacks out frequently. Good twist at the end.

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BOOKS

Still conducting research on Psycho.

This week I read a chapter from Slavoj Zizek’s The Fright of Real Tears and “In His Bold Gaze” in Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Lacan. . . . But Were Afraid to Ask Hitchcock.” Zizek offer some fascination insights into Hitchcock’s films, using Hegelian and Lacanian concepts. I am particularly interested in Lacan’s concept of drive and how it operates in Psycho.

I’m also reading Tales from The Crypt. They are so much fun! I highly recommend it, especially as we get closer to October!

Favorite Books on Cinema - Part 2

Looking Awry is one I always go to when I'm working with Lacanian concepts. 

 

Looking Awry was significant for me when I wrote Cinema of Confinement. I recommend it if you want to learn more about the intersection of psychoanalytic theory and cinema.

There are lots of great examples from movies and books to help understand these complex concepts. Žižek is not suggesting that using examples from popular culture avoids the complexity of theory. Rather, it is a way of exploring theoretical concepts, but looking at them from a different perspective--thus looking awry.

One example that stuck with me is Patricia Highsmith's "The Black House," a story about a group of men who get together at a bar and reminisce about an old house in the town that is associated with nostalgia and memories. A young engineer, who just moved into town, hears about the myth of the old house and decides to visit it. Finding nothing mysterious about it, he tells the men that it is just an old, filthy ruined house. The men freak out and attack the young engineer and windup killing him.

 

As Žižek explains, the young intruder reduced their fantasy space to an everyday, common reality. "He annulled the difference between reality and fantasy space, depriving the men of the place in which they were able to articulate their desires” (9). 

The old house is an empty screen for the men to project their nostalgic desires and memories upon, which was then reduced to nothing by the engineer. Here, Žižek draws our attention to the fantasy screen, the protective screen from the Lacanian Real, the "thing" that haunts and disrupts the symbolic order. A point Žižek makes over and over is that if you remove the fantasy screen, you don't get "reality." Instead, you get a nightmarish form of reality. The fantasy screen provides a sense of reality, keeping the Real at a distance. In the case of the engineer, he unplugs the men's fantasy screen.

In Cinema of Confinement, I discuss the ending of Rope (1948), how the penthouse becomes a strange and distorted space after Rupert (James Stewart) discovers the corpse Brandon (John Dall) and Phillip (Farley Granger) had hidden throughout the dinner party. 

The big window acts as a sort of fantasy screen for Brandon and Phillip, which keeps danger at a distance. But when their secret is exposed, Rupert opens the window and fires a gun, calling attention to the authorities. The space then becomes flooded with lights from a nearby neon sign, the sounds of the city amplify. The characters movements are suddenly protracted and creaturely. The orderliness of space becomes distorted as an the fantasy screen collapses.

 

There are lots of great examples in Looking Awry from cinema and worth checking out. Also see Enjoy Your Symptom and Žižek's book on Krzysztof Kieslowski. Of course, there is his collection of essays on Alfred Hitchcock. I also recommend Matthew Flisfeder's excellent book on Žižek's work on film. 

 

 

The Record Store Can Read My Desire

Damon Krukowksi's great book (and podcast) Ways of Hearing explores how digital media have transformed the way we hear. 

In the chapter on "power," he considers the difference between Spotify's "Discovery Weekly" and visiting a record store. Spotify's algorithm considers what you listen to, adapting to your tastes and likes. He notes, "At Spotify, the dream is to provide you with music without your participation-the algorithm will know what you want" (111).

 

 

But when we visit a record store, one has to navigate its space. As Krukowski states, "You adapt to it" (11). If you ever been to Amoeba in Los Angeles--clearly the case!

 

(Me at Amoeba Music)

By adapting to the store's layout, you might come across a surprise, maybe a record you hadn't thought about purchasing. This process involves your unconscious desire. As I explained in an earlier posting, the logic of desire operates on absence. The object cause of desire (what Jacques Lacan terms objet a) can never be satisfied.

 

 

At the same time, the object cause of desire sustains the psychical force of desire because it is unattainable. It is sometimes described as the real of one's desire. Real - meaning the impossible, or in this case, the stumbling block of desire. 

In a previous post on the gaze, I noted how cinematic forms can elicit our desire. Like the narrative and formal construction of a movie, the design and layout of a record store considers your desire. A record store is already designed for you to engage with it.

Not all stores will elicit your desire. But in my recent journey to Amoeba, the store reads my desire in how it displays its merchandise. It is not adapting to me (as Spotify does with Discovery Weekly), but is trying to elicit my unconscious desire in anticipating a surprise purchase.

 

 

But this raises a question: can algorithms such as Discover Weekly read your desire? In a podcast on the Lacanian Real with Todd McGowan, he argues they can't because they repeatedly tell you what you want.

I think McGowan's claim lines up with Slavoj Zizek's critique of technological singularity. For Zizek, singularity can't account for the unconscious. Likewise, algorithms don't know how to read our unconscious desire. 

Instead of a "surprise," (something unexpected which emerges from your encounter at a record store), you discover something new with Discover Weekly, which is based on your tastes. As Krukowski writes, "You find the answers you want to the questions you already know to ask. . . . This makes an ideal experience if all you want is what you want. But what if you're looking for something else?" (112). That "something else" is what Lacan call objet a which algorithms can not provide. 

Another way to think about algorithms is they operate on mastery. By contrast, a record store operates on both absence ("something else") and mastery ("all"). As you navigate the story, you try to master it. At the same time, what draws you into the store is absence (unconscious desire).

Immanuel Kant - The Schema

I found some papers I wrote in grad school and thought I would share. This one was from a class I took on Kant's Critique of Pure Reason. It explains the concept of the schema. I remember this was a strange concept when I first learned it. I would later learn Slavoj Zizek would sometimes use the schema to explain how fantasy works. I hope you find this helpful. I am using the Cambridge edition, citing A/B version of the Critique.

The purpose of this paper is to investigate Immanuel Kant’s critique of abstract concepts. For Kant, to unravel an abstract concept is to know the determinate rules for human cognition; that is, to uncover the forms of judgment that allows one to conceptualize an object of experience. Empiricist philosophers such as Hume and Locke have tried to solve the problem of abstract concepts but without the employment of a priori conditions. The starting point for both Hume’s theory of impressions and Locke’s theory of ideas is the realm of experience. However, for Kant, experience as a starting point cannot demonstrate what is universal and necessary for the possibility of a priori judgments. To solve the problem of abstract concepts, Kant introduces the notion of a schema which is a determinate rule that mediates the relationship between appearances and the categories. There are three problems of abstract concepts associated with the schema: empirical concepts (in relation to the universal and particular), pure sensible concepts, and pure concepts of the understanding. In this paper I will explain the problem of empirical concepts in regards to the particular and universal, which the empiricist philosophers could not solve, and show how the employment of the schema solves the problem of abstract concepts.

 

In the section on transcendental deduction, Kant demonstrated how the combination of the transcendental aesthetic (the conditions of time and space) and the pure concepts of the understanding present the possibility of experience. Per Dieter Henrich, Kant’s transcendental deduction is a two steps process in a single deduction, exemplifying the connection between the intellectual and sensible conditions of human knowledge. The importance of the transcendental deduction is that it demonstrates the objective validity of the categories for the possibility of experience. Objective validity is vital for Kant’s transcendental deduction because it establishes the necessary truth for the possibility of judgments. 

 

The transcendental deduction, however, only tells us the story on how forms and structures operate within the mind. Kant’s next endeavor must present the empirical side of the story in order to fully proclaim his Copernican Revolution; that is, objects conform to our knowledge. To fully solve the problem of abstract concepts, we must understand how content is employed within the forms of the mind, because, as Kant states, “Thoughts without content are empty, intuitions without concepts are blind” [ B75/A51]. Without the employment of content, the categories of understanding would remain idle. 

 

Kant posits that general logic cannot supply the rules or forms for the power of judgment, noting that “General logic contains no precepts at all for the power of judgment, and more over cannot contain them” [B171/A132]. For instance, everyone can learn how to interpret a type of triangle or square, such as a right angle or a rhombus; but the power of judgment through the lens of general logic cannot state that this particular triangle or square is universally correct. Paul Guyer explains in Kant and the Claims of Knowledge, “If rules were needed to apply concepts, which are themselves rules, then further rules might be needed to apply concepts, which are ad infinitum” (162). General logic cannot inform what the determinate rules or precepts are for the power of judgment. Applying one rule to another rule under general logic leads to an infinite regress and not what is necessary and universal. 

To avoid the problem of an infinite regress Kant argues that there must be determinate rules (forms and structures) for the power of judgment. The transcendental deduction alone cannot produce an object of experience. The combination of the manifold of intuition and the categories require an additional mechanism to direct the appearances in order to produce an object of experience. Kant notes, “[T]he function of the understanding in the category must also contain a priori form conditions of sensibility … that contain the general conditions under which alone the category can be applied to any object” [B179/A140]. For Kant, there must be something “homogeneously contained” in the representation of the object in order to arrive at the concept of an object such as a dog or a plate. Kant notes, “In all subsumption of an object under a concept the representations of the former must be homogeneous with the latter” [A137/B176]. The notion of subsumption posits something particular in the representation that is homogeneous with the object. In other words, properties of objects are represented by predicates, and what links the predicates to the categories is what Kant terms the schema.  

 

The schema is a determinate rule that mediates that relationship between appearances and the categories. The schema is pure a priori and is also sensible because its application to the category is transcendental time-determinate. Kant notes, “[An] application of the category to appearances become possible by means of transcendental time-determination which, as the schema of the concept of understanding, mediates the subsumption of the later under the former” [B178/A139]. The transcendental deduction cannot mediate the appearance to the categories because pure concepts have they no time determination. It is the schema as a transcendental time-determinate that links the appearance to the categories. Every sensory application must contain time; and because time is a prior, the schema is therefore a transcendental procedure.

 

Kant demonstrates the notion of the schema through the concept of a plate. Our arrival at a concept of plate (as an empirical image) is because we have a concept of circularity or roundness which subsumes under the concept of plate. That is to say, the concept of plate homogeneously contains a mark of roundness. The predicate “roundness” delineated by the schema links the categories to the concept of a plate. 

 

One can also think of the schema as a theatre usher. We have the patrons which represent the unperceived data of the manifold. The manifold (the patrons) are ordered and filtered through the doors to the theatre in regards to time and space; and, lastly, the aisles acts as the categories with each seat being a mode under the tables of categories. The schema is the third element that ushers or mediates each patron into their seat or mode under the categories. The usher would be the only one who knows where to seat the patrons. 

As noted earlier, one of the three problems of abstract concepts associated with the schema is empirical concepts (the relationship to the universal and particular). Particularities are concepts we come to know in the phenomenal world such as a dog or a plate. Universals are forms that are rule governed and are the workings behind the scene that allow the particular to emerge. Empirical philosophers have not been able to provide a theory on how we can formally know an object of experience because their starting point is the particular not the universal. Philosopher such as Hume and Locke have argued theories that relate to empirical concepts, but nothing that demonstrates universality on how we come know an object of experience. For instance, Hume’s theory of impressions posits the mind can know, for example, the concept of dog based on one’s past experience of various breeds of four-footed animals. For Hume, the mind constructs a judgment based on resemblance, contiguity and causation. And over time, the mind creates a building block of this past experience. For example, I can know the difference between a Poodle and a Bulldog because my mind compares and contrasts with those particular breeds based on past experiences. That is to say, Hume’s theory works with the relations of the particular based on past judgments of dogs. But particularity cannot arrive what is necessary and universal. Hume’s theory of impressions cannot solve the problem of abstract concept because it does not provide a general rule for human cognition on how one comes know the concept of dog. 

 

Moreover, empiricist philosophers could not solve the problem of abstract concepts because they were working from what Kant calls the reproductive image (the empirical image). For Kant, empirical images cannot produce a proper theory of knowledge because it represents particularity, not universality. As Kant notes, “The concept of dog signifies a rule for in accordance with which my imagination can specify the shape of a four-footed animal in general, without being restricted to any single particular shape that experience offers me or any possible image that I can exhibit in concreto” [B181]. The schema solves the problem of abstract concept because the predicate “a figure of four-footed animal,” as rule is subsumed in the empirical concept of dog. The schema constrains the categories because it is impossible for the mind to think of all types of dogs in one given thought. The problem the empirical philosophers wrestled with was they were working from the image itself. The empirical image cannot be a determinate rule because, as pointed out with general logic, it is always relative. Kant states, “The schema is in itself always only a product of the imagination; but since the synthesis of the later has as it aim on individual intuition but rather only the unity in the determination of sensibility, the schema is to be distinguished from an image” [B179/A140]. The schema is not the conclusion (the empirical image), but is the procedure (pure a priori) that allows the conclusion (the concept of dog) to emerge. As Norman Kemp Smith notes in Commentary to Kant’s “Critique of Pure Reason” second edition, “Images become possible only through and in accordance with the schemata, but can never themselves be identified with them… Images are always particular; schemata are always universal" (338). It is the schema that mediates between appearances and the categories that makes the image of a dog or any object of experience possible. 

 

The notion of the schema debunks the empiricist’s problem of abstract concepts because it demonstrates a universal and transcendental procedure for the power of judgment. And because the schema is transcendental, it aligns with Kant’s Copernican revolution that object must conform to our knowledge. Thus, the schema is a transcendental time-determinate mechanism that mediates between appearances and the categories and thus, employs the form of judgments. 

Desire, Coca-Cola, Zizek and Cinema

Following up on my last post on the gaze, I thought it would be important to explain a little bit of Lacan's concept of desire. 

Desire is the desire to desire. What does this mean? For Lacan, the logic of desire operates on lack, not fullness. Think of your favorite song that you listen to over and over, or watching a movie such as Star Wars or The Lord of the Rings repetitively. 

For Lacan, these "empirical" objects stand in for what he terms the object cause of desire, or sometimes referred to as the "lost object." As long as the lost object remains lost, desire sustains its force. Listening to a favorite song or watching a movie repeatedly - both objects stand in for the lost object, but can never be the "thing" itself. And because this empirical object (song, movie, book, coffee, etc.) can not fill the shoes of the psychical lost object, desire continues to desire. 

Slavoj Žižek offers a great example of the lost object using Coca-Cola's old slogan: "Coke is It." Žižek asks: What is this "it"? Why do we keep drinking coke if "it" is indeed "it"? There is a failure in drinking Coca-Cola that keeps us drinking more. Why? Because Coke is not it. This is the logic of desire.  As long as we keep "missing" the lost object, desire continues to desire.

 
Desire also has a temporal component which can be found in classical Hollywood narrative.  Classical narrative films exemplify the notion of desire because they demonstrate that the story's solution resides in the future. Die Hard (1987) is a great example of the logic of desire and classical narrative form. 

John McClane (Bruce Willis) finds himself alone in the Nakatomi building where Hans Gruber (Alan Rickman) and his group of thieves seize the tower and hold a group of employees hostage, including John's estranged wife, Holly (Bonnie Beldelia). John's goal is to outsmart Hans. John is constantly backed into a corner as we wonder how he will survive. The goal is for John to win - to reach his goal - to defeat Gruber. 

It is no surprise that this winning aspect of desire has a strong correlation to the logic of capitalism as explored in Todd McGowan's outstanding book, Capitalism and Desire.

Lastly,  although desire operates on lack, it paradoxically provides the subject pleasure. This is why Lacan argues that the lack of lack (to be lacking lack) equals anxiety. We enjoy our desire. For example, I love to collect DVDs. I think the worse thing that can happen to me is to lose my desire for buying DVDs.