Favorite Books on Cinema - Part 4

Cinema in the Digital Age was another book I discovered when writing my dissertation. 

 

 

Rombes's central claims is that we are haunted by the "specter of perfection" (2). His point is that imperfection is the human signature, and that there has been a tendency in current cinema to insert mistakes. His argument is similar to Manovich's take on photorealism. For Manovich, computer images are too good and need imperfections to meet our ideas of realism. 

As I mentioned in my previous post, Manovich's work on photorealism was significant in my book Capturing Digital Media. Nicholas Rombes's claim on flaws, mistakes and imperfections in cinema also greatly informed my research. I was specifically interested in how his idea performs in today's special effects. Rombes states, "Reality is today's special effects" (5). I thought of the long takes in Children of Men and Spielberg's War of the Worlds. Both films utilize digital effects to create a documentary like effect in their use of the long take.

 

Lastly, I love how Rombes's structures his book. His method is A-Z.  For example, the first chapter is "The Adorno Paradox," then it goes to "Against Method," and so on. Very cool book.

 

Favorite Books on Cinema - Part 3

I came across The Language of New Media in a film theory course I took when I was working toward my Ph.D. It is not a book exclusively on cinema, but there are a lot of great sections on the intersection of film and new media.

 

 

When I teach digital media, the first thing I ask students is what makes new media new? Manovich takes up this question in the beginning of his book. For Manovich, how new media became new is binary code (0s and 1s), "all existing media into numerical data accessible through computers (20). His answer may seem simple, but it has a major role in his overall argument, particularly for the history of cinema.

One of his claims is that cinema, now more than ever, is a painterly medium due to the digital tools at filmmaker’s disposal. He sees live action filmmaking as raw material that will later be digitally manipulated. Just to give you an idea of what he means, check out this VFX video for The Wolf of Wall Street--

 

But Manovich notes that cinema was a painterly medium from the start, which can be traced to the silent short films of Georges Méliès, such as A Trip to the Moon.

 

Another topic he takes up is photorealism: “The ability to simulate any object in such a way that its computer image is indistinguishable from a photograph” (184). He argues that computer graphics are too real and need imperfections.

For Manovich, the computer is NOT trying to mimic our "bodily experience of reality" but "reality as seen by the camera lens." It is not a "faked reality" the computer generates but "a film-based image" (200).

This was a significant point for me which I explored in my book Capturing Digital Media. I went further with this notion to explore it psychical effects, looking at purposely and unconsciously inserted imperfections into the moving image.

There are lots of interesting sections in The Language of New Media, such as his reading of interactivity and database narratives. I highly recommend it for those interested in both digital media studies and film theory.

 

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. 

 

 

Realist Film Theory and Bicycle Thieves

A central claim of Andre Bazin is that the power of cinema can render the mysteriousness of reality on film--to capture and embalm the structures of reality. 

 

Hilary Neroni's excellent new book builds upon Bazin’s theory, arguing that those structures (or mysteriousness of reality) is mediation—language, unwritten rules of communication, systems of signification. Her other point is that what is "new" about neorealism is the combination of realism and melodrama. The two work together to bring forth (mediation) to draw attention to the workings of the social order. In this case, it is early post WWII, Italy. Those two key points (mediation and melodrama) make this a very interesting and engaging analysis of De Sica’s landmark film, Bicycle Thieves.

 

Movies often try to avoid showing us mediation (the forms that create the story world). But neorealism wants to draw our attention to them. But it also wants us involved in the story, to feel the emotions of the characters, to experience the melodrama, to make us aware of the systems that are working against these characters. 

 

 

I am so happy this is book is available. I teach this movie and agree with Neroni that Bazin should not be left in the dustbin of film theory. 

 

 

Realist film theory has a lot to offer for current cinema. Just think how much digital effects have developed over the past thirty years, how they have gotten more and more realistic. This is just one example that demonstrates the importance of Bazin and realist film theory. This book is definitely worth checking out.

Joker and Film Theory

This year I used Joker as an example of introducing film theory and wanted to share.

A few things to note:

Theory is hard. It requires you to read and re-read. It is not ready-made. But don't be overwhelmed. It takes time to learn the terminology. But it is a rewarding process.

Theory is not "good" or "bad" criticism. That's for movie reviewers, or what is known as evaluative criticism. I LOVE Siskel and Ebert, but no thumbs-up or thumbs-down when writing theoretically about film. You want to write critically which involves theory...

What insights does Joker offer for film theory?

Auteur Theory: Todd Phillips is probably not someone we think of as an auteur (evaluative). The Hangover movies or Old School did not garner Academy Award nominations.

 

But good and bad taste is not relevant here. As long as the director has a body of work, you can conduct an auteur analysis. 

 

You can also write about unconscious themes of a director's work - that is, themes the director did not know were showing up throughout their films. 

 

But this also raises an important point about writing theory. Rhetoric. Can you persuade me that Phillips is an auteur?

 

Genre: We all know genres. Joker not only challenges our expectations of the superhero genre, but even those who have played the Joker. 

 

 

Why does Joker challenge our expectations?

 

For one, the film is a slow burn, moving toward Arthur Fleck's transformation. Fleck is also an unreliable narrator, something we often don't see in superhero movies.

 

Could Joker impact future movies the way Pulp Fiction did in 1994? 

 

 

 

Genre theory often investigates how genres develop over time. Rick Altman's semantic/syntactic approach is key to explaining this. 

 

 

Altman's analysis moves away from bad and good judgement, and points us toward the evolution of genres, looking at how a film articulates the traits of a given genre and the deeper meanings it can convey. The two are interconnected.

As time passes, we may look back at Joker and other superhero films and try to understand why they were so popular with audiences.

Art Cinema and Narrative Theory: Joker shares many traits of art house cinema, such as ambiguity, loose narrative cause and effect, and digressions. 

 

To understand art house cinema traits, we have to weigh them against classical narrative, which often entails strict cause and effect, little or no ambiguity, and closure. See David Bordwell's article "The Art Cinema as a Mode of Film Practice.

 

Joker is not a strict cause and effect narrative, as the entire film is told through Fleck's perspective. It has digressions, such as the bathroom dance sequence and Fleck dancing down the steps. 

 

 

Joker has ambiguity. Early in the film we think Arthur is dating Sophie. But this is not true, because there is little indication we are inside of Arthur’s mind. It is not surprising that Joker has been compared to Martin Scorsese's Taxi Driver.

 

 

Semiotics: The study of signs. A key component of semiotics is inventorying signs—looking for patterns in a movie. A key theorist is Roland Barthes. His work draws our attention to a film's literal and figurative meanings.

 

Consider Arthur's dance down the stairs. There are multiple meanings. It is not only literally him going up and down, but a sign of his transformation.

 

 

At the start of the film he lumbers up the stairs after he is fired as a clown. On his way to Murray's talk show, toward the end of the film, he dances down the stairs, going into full Joker mode.

 

Realism and Formalism: One of the central questions early film theory took up was whether cinema has an essence. That is, is there something inherently significant about movies.

 

Andre Bazin argues it is cinematic space (mise-en-scene) that is significant to cinema. He loved movies that allow you to look within the frame, movies that try to mimic the structures of reality. Long takes and deep focus photography are techniques he championed in cinema.

 

Joker shares certain aspects of Bazanian realism, particularly its emphasis on the grittiness of the city. In many ways, the grittiness of the film captures Arthur's uncertain state of mind.

 

 

These are just some examples of how Joker can be a good way to begin film theory. I also recommend Kevin McDonald's excellent book.

 

 

Bong Joon-ho

It was so exciting to see Bong Joon-ho win all those Academy Awards for Parasite this year. It was definitely one of the best films of the year. I had some other favorites such as The Irishman, Marriage Story, 1917, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, Joker, and Jo Jo Rabbit.

I've been teaching Bong Joon-Ho in my Global Cinema class for the past three years. When I first proposed my course, I didn't know much about Korean cinema. I was directed toward Park Chan-wook's Oldboy by a number of my students. This was the first Korean film I watched, and it is an incredible and visceral movie that will stick with you for a long time.

Bong and Park are part of a number of directors known as New Korean Wave. 

What is unique about these filmmakers is they work within genre to get at social concerns. This is clearly the case in Bong's films The Host and Snowpiercer. 

For example, The Host addresses a number of topics, such as youth unemployment after the Asian financial crisis in 1997.

Or "the right of the hungry" (seo-ri), which is connected to the film's theme of consumption.

At the same time, The Host is a very entertaining and scary film. I think horror and Gothic films are particularly good at generating social commentary, such as Night of the Living Dead, Get Out, Dawn of the Dead, and The Devil's Backbone.

But one film I highly recommend is Bong's Memories of Murder. Christina Klein wrote an excellent article on Memories and The Host called, "Why American Studies Need to Think About Korean Cinema, or Transnational Genres in the Films of Bong Joon-ho."

Klein argues that Memories and The Host have the traditional Hollywood conventions of the serial killer and the monster genre, respectively. At the same time, both films speak to Korean social concerns. She identifies these two registers through surface and deep crime.

Klein states: “Bong does not mimic Hollywood but appropriates and reworks genre conventions, using them as a framework for exploring and critiquing South Korea social and political issues” (873).

 
She argues that the surface crime launches the story and motivates the action. The process of investigating the surface crime often produces a deep crime, which is a pervasive wrongdoing that lies beneath the surface of everyday life (881). 

This deep crime, for example, points toward the Chun regime during the 1980s. The film capture life under the Chun dictatorship as the detectives attempt to find the serial killer.

Of course, Klein's surface and deep crime reading can certainly apply to Bong's new film, Parasite and its commentary on wealth and inequality. At the same time, the film has surface traits of a thriller and, to some degree, horror.

Lastly, there are many great films from South Korea. Below are a few I recommend:

 

 Be sure to check out Darcy Paquet's great introduction to New Korean Cinema

Trainspotting - Watching While Flat on Your Back

I teach Danny Boyle's brilliantly directed film Trainspotting in a number of my film courses on the topic of British Cinema and transnationalism (how the film appeals internationally). This is most notable in the film's famous opening "Choose Life" sequence over Iggy Pop's "Lust for Life." Here, American music is played alongside the national/regional of Edinburgh.

Trainspotting is one of a number of films of the 1990s (Pulp Fiction, Permanent Midnight and Basketball Diaries) that explores the dangers of heroin use. A point I brought up in my class is how frequently Renton (Ewan McGregor) is shown lying on his back, particularly when shooting up heroin and how it pertains to being a trainspotter.

In Murray Smith's fantastic BFI book, he explains the various meanings of "trainspotting." He writes: "To be a trainspotter-in the literal sense-is to stand for hours, in the same place, watching trains go by. To board a train is to go somewhere, to move on" (17). 

When Renton decides to stop using heroin, he quickly stands up and "chooses life." After his near death experience from overdosing on heroin, Renton goes through a harrowing experience of withdrawl. He then moves to London to better his life.

And then Begbie (Robert Carlyle) shows up at his door. Begbie, as Murray Smith points out, is a dark and frightening depiction of "new lad" culture.

Begbie's arrival at Renton's flat demonstrates the film's engagement with fate. Here, we can see a dimension of film noir at work in Trainspotting. Renton can choose life, but he did not choose Begbie arriving at his doorstep who happens to be on the lam for armed robbery.

The third act of film entails Renton, Begbie, Sick Boy and Spud orchestrating a drug deal, which lands them 16 thousand pounds. But instead of sharing the money four ways, Renton steals the money and flees. Though, he does leave Spud some money.

Trainspotting's depiction of heroin is both comical and frightening. In many ways, it is a neo-noir film not unlike Fight Club or Requiem for a Dream. Perhaps more frighteningly is Renton's clownish expression as he returns the gaze at the end of the film. Renton is choosing life again. But has he really changed? Here, Renton's distorted expression is reminiscent of the ending of A Clockwork Orange when Alex (Malcolm MacDowell) says "I was cured all right." Of course, the ludovico technique did not work for Alex. And choosing life might not work for Renton.

And let's not forget that Renton switched Tommy's sex tape with his girlfriend with his greatest soccer goals video cassette. This event leads to the break up of Tommy and his girlfriend, which leads to Tommy doing heroin for the first time and then dying of AIDS.

Renton never acknowledges or shows remorse for playing a role in Tommy's death. During the scene when Tommy is dying, Renton happens to be kicking a soccer ball near a poster of Iggy Pop, Tommy's favorite musician. But ultimately, Tommy chose to do heroin.

Indeed, Renton is an unreliable narrator, whether he's lying on his back and high on heroin while life passes him by, or choosing life...