This research project will consider the idea of 'cult' films, investigating what constitutes a cult film as such and conventions that may apply to this 'genre' of film, as well as exploring the notion that these films subvert popular ideologies and explore concepts not covered or disregarded by mainstream society. Focusing mainly on The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Pink Flamingos and A Clockwork Orange, I will consider the idea that cult films appeal to marginalised groups not catered for by popular and mainstream entertainment, and that these films could be argued to directly intend to make this so by making their protagonists and themes identifiable to these people who are alienated by society. My research will examine the social context of the 'cult movie' and the importance they have in revealing the ideologies dominant in our society. I will examine how films seen as cult have evolved, developed through history and how these films (and the reactions to them) have influenced each other, as well as influencing mainstream cinema. As well as considering the developments and change in cult cinema the research will strive to prove that attributes considered to belong to cult cinema are often exploited as selling points, and that mainstream film-makers trying to achieve the cult 'effect' now utilise this marketing strategy as often as the non-mainstream. I will analyse my chosen films closely, and as well as examining these specifically the research will also consider their audience reception, the reception of other relevant films, will include box office figures and statistics, and will contemplate critical discussion and theory of cult cinema. By doing this the research will enable an article to be produced that aims to provide a definitive understanding of what cult cinema is, how it can be defined, how it comes about, its place in cinema and film culture, and the influence cult cinema has on society and the viewers notions of themselves.
Research Questions
What characteristics are present throughout films labelled as 'cult cinema', how can these specifically be seen in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Pink Flamingos and A Clockwork Orange, and could the cult film be argued to constitute a genre due to these conventions?
How are elements of cult cinema exploited as selling points and used as marketing strategies? For example, how does repackaging and labelling previously 'under the radar' films as cult lead to more widespread success, and how do some mainstream films now seek assimilate qualities of the 'cult' within themselves?
How does being a fan of cult films give a sense of belonging to an 'elite' to marginalised viewers alienated by the mainstream, and how do the fan bases of the films I am focusing on closely demonstrate this? How do these films, and cult films in general, aim to achieve this appeal to certain groups of people?
Research Context
In particular, my research will focus on the characteristics of the films that make them cult, the audience and critical reaction to said films, and providing a context for these films, as well as attempting to handle theories of cult cinema on a more general level.
To understand my films and why they are considered 'cult classics', I will need to research into and learn about the historical and social contexts they were released into. To do this I will need to investigate and understand the social climes at the time, and therefore books such as Gods in Polyester or, a Survivor's Account of '70s Cinema Obscura will be useful, as it gives an understanding of the film industry at this time, and gives a historical and social backdrop to hold these films against, revealing just how controversial or unusual they were for this time.
I will also need to research the directors of each of my chosen films, studying their legacies and not only themselves as people, but critical discussions of them and their filmographies, reviews and reactions to their work, and direct quotes and discourse from them, especially quotes about the specific films. This will help me to gain an insight into the creative forces behind the films I am studying, as well as their intentions regarding them, which will illuminate the reasons why these particular films are now seen as cult classics, and if this was intended. Books such as Reading Rocky Horror: The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Popular Culture and Filthy: The Weird World of John Waters and The Complete Kubrick and Rocky Horror: From Concept to Cult will be particularly useful here, as will articles such as The Stanley Kubrick Archives by Gabriel Paletz and A Dirty Shame by Mark Pfeiffer. In Crackpot: The Obsessions of John Waters, Waters comments that, '..when I tried to make the sequel to Pink Flamingos nobody would give me the money. “Can you give us something we can admit we like?” said one studio executive.' This provides an interesting insight into Waters experience, and also reveals the controversial nature of the film, and how opposed to the mainstream it was.
It will also be useful to do research into other films released at the same time as the ones I am studying. By doing this I will be able to contrast numerous elements of the films against each other, such as plot, genre, production details such as budget, audience and critic reception, and box office figures. This will be extremely useful in separating my films from the 'norm', and isolating and highlighting exactly what it is that makes them cult. For example, this contextual research into films at the time revealed that while The Rocky Horror Picture Show took only $21,245 in its opening weekend, Jaws took a sharply contrasting $7,790,627 in its own opening weekend the same year. This was arguably down to the fact that Jaws was released in 409 cinemas on its opening weekend, compared with Rocky Horror's grand total of 2 cinemas. Interestingly however, despite this weak start, Rocky Horror has become the longest running release in film history, and has never been pulled from release by 20th Century Fox since its release in 1975 and has now grossed a total of $139,876,417, illustrating the slow-burning power of the cult film.
As well as investigating films released at the same time as my chosen films, it will be essential to research the history of films seen as cult and focus briefly on a selection of these and the reception they garnered. This is necessary because as well as providing another backdrop with which to contrast my films, it will also offer a sense of how the cult movie has changed and developed, or alternatively, remained constant in themes and intentions. This will enable my understanding of 'what a cult film is' to be extended, and will help me to define this more clearly, extending or changing the meaning of 'cult', and making it more all-encompassing. For example, when you study the tradition of cult films, it becomes clear that despite any other differences, dismissal of mainstream conventions is constant throughout cult cinema. As Mendik and Harper say in Unruly Pleasures: The Cult Film and its Critics, 'Crane argues that the cult film is defined by a systematic departure from the rules and regulations of mainstream movie making'.
Before I can begin to expand on what cult cinema is, it will be important to look at how different people define something as 'cult', in order to compile an understanding of what the term means and how far it stretches, or perhaps, how closely it is limited. It will also be absolutely essential therefore, to study film theorist's work on cult cinema, including both critical discussion of my chosen films, and existing research into cult cinema on a more general level.
It will also be necessary to study theories around genre, as I will be able to consider whether the cult film constitutes a genre by doing this. It might seem a strange claim to make, and people may tend to disagree, arguing that 'cult' is a term applied to cinema that only directly relates to a film's success or reception. However, by studying genre theory, I may be able to highlight qualities belonging to films seen as cult that may qualify this term. Steve Neale says in Genre & Hollywood that 'Genres may be defined as patterns/forms/styles/structures which transcend individual films, and which supervise both their construction by the film maker and their reading by an audience', and arguably these qualities are all evident in cult film.
I will also examine marketing strategies of cult films, as I believe this plays a large part in constructing the idea of the film as 'cult'. It will be interesting to investigate the way that films become popular gradually through DVD sales after little cinematic success, and earn themselves cult status by doing so, this often arguably the sole reason a film is considered cult. For example, Harold & Maude and The Big Lebowski were not financially successful at the time of their original release, but have since developed a cult following and become successful due to their video and DVD releases, and Showgirls flopped critically and commercially on release but has since been successful, earning $100 million from video rentals. It may even be possible to argue that this is one, if not the, defining characteristic of cult cinema, and while this may not qualify cult as a genre as it is something that happens outside and after the production of a film, it can certainly be seen as a convention. This argument could be countered with the idea that although certainly a characteristic of cult cinema, it is not the defining one, as the dismissal of mainstream conventions could be seen as far more constant and essential within cult cinema. While covering this section of the research I will also touch upon mainstream assimilation of 'cult qualities', examining newer films in terms of their marketing as well as their content.
Finally, it will also be useful to conduct research into viewer behaviour, and critical theories around fandom and viewer identification with films, as well as directly researching film fan sites and viewer created content. This will be interesting as it will allow understanding of cult cinema from a perspective outside the films, and will act as a response to my analysis of them. Fans and cult cinema are unalterably linked, for you cannot have cult cinema without its fans, arguably, a films fanbase may be as defining a quality of the cult film as those just mentioned. The study of my films fanbases, will illuminate my article and provide an understanding of exactly what the definition 'cult' entails; you cannot have a cult without cult members, and it is these fans that earn their films this title. In a society where the things we are fans of define who we are and make us belong, the significance and importance of the phenomenon that is cult cinema is evident. Therefore, in my research into fandom and viewer behaviour, I will specifically focus on the idea that cult cinema offers marginalised viewers not catered for by the mainstream a feeling of belonging. I will argue that while some cult films may have done this unintentionally, many directly intend to do so by the choice of themes, ideas and characters within them. Phenomenons such as Rocky Horror Picture Show screenings where fans wear costumes, use props and participate by dancing, shouting lines and even acting along with the characters are clear demonstrations of fans becoming involved with the films, and the habit of dressing as characters from cult films also displays the clear desire to be a part of the movie.
Research Method
My method of research could be called a 'hierarchy of information', but so I don't lose focus of my objectives and so I can see where my research should be 'branching' off to, I am going to use the metaphor of a tree to guide my research. (Please see the next page for a diagram of this, which shows the directions my research shall take.)
At its roots is the study of cult cinema. As the research begins, it is divided into three sections that I am going to use to understand cult cinema, and these sections will be linked to one another by the time the research is finished and I begin writing the article. These three sections are historical and social context, my chosen films, and relevant critical theories.
For the 'historical and social context' section my research will be further guided by another three subsections: the history of cult films, research into the film industry and society at the time, and the study of other films released at the same time as my chosen films.
My 'critical theories' section will also have three offshoots designed to focus the research; theories and critical writings on cult cinema, genre theories, and spectatorship theories.
Finally, under the section of 'my chosen films', the three subsections used to make sense of the films are close analysis of said films, directors, and critical writings on these films.
From the subsections leading off from these sections areas of research develop, such as box office figures, fanbases, the marketing and labelling of films as cult, and fan generated content such as fan sites. These further areas of research link with one another to tie up my research together. (Please see diagram)
I believe that using this diagram to navigate research is a highly effective research model, as it guides my understanding, and gives me an order in which to conduct my research, preventing a random approach. It also focuses my research, making it specific not vast, and stops me from losing focus and going off on tangents. Despite being specific, it also ensures my research is thorough and covers all relevant areas, and ultimately gives me a research checklist.
It also gives me an idea of the importance of the information and research gleaned and therefore gives me a guideline for writing my article, and the order information should be included in.
So in my opinion, this is a very practical and useful way of conducting research.
Following this guide, I will begin by conducting research into the historical and social contexts of cult cinema. To begin researching the history of cult films I will need to do a general search in the libraries' catalogue for cult cinema, this will find some highly relevant texts that will be useful throughout the project, and next I will search for articles in journals about cult cinema. Once I have these texts and articles I will be able to pinpoint several films seen as cult throughout film history and will be able to take a closer look at these films to understand the history and traditions of cult cinema. Articles from film magazines such as Entertainment Weekly's 'Top 50 Cult Movies' will be also highly useful. To gain an understanding of the historical and social contexts for my specific films I will have to briefly research the film industry in the 1970's, and its relation to society at that time, as coincidentally the release dates for my chosen films are 1971 (A Clockwork Orange), 1972 (Pink Flamingos) and 1975 (The Rocky Horror Picture Show). I will also examine the marketing and labelling of films as 'cult'.
The second part of my research will be that concerning film theory. This study of theories on cult cinema, genre and spectatorship will prepare me for my analysis of the films. I will begin my researching theories around cult cinema and it will be likely that the books and articles found earlier in my research into the history of cult cinema will be relevant and useful here. A brief look at genre theory will be necessary next, and then I will need to find writings discussing theories of spectatorship, specifically those around of viewer identification with films.
The third and final section of my research will be an investigation into the three films, and I will begin this by viewing them and carrying out a close analysis of aspects such as plot, narrative structure, the characters we are presented with, and the ideologies communicated. This will be followed by research into elements outside the films such as their marketing, box office figures, DVD/VCR sales, and media surrounding them. Next I will search for critical writings and reviews relating to the film's directors, entailing material such as filmographies, critical writings and articles about them, and quotes and discourse from the directors themselves regarding their works, their intentions, and these specific films. The next step will be research into critical writings about the films, and although this is similar to the previous section and there is a possibility of overlapping material, this research will aim to find articles by critics on the specific films rather than articles covering their directors in a more general sense. Finally, I will examine and research the fanbases of my films, relating the material I find back to the spectatorship theory covered earlier. I will search for fan generated content such as movie fan sites to take a first hand look at the way cult films give their fans something to belong to.
Through this extensive research into all areas of my films, I hope to gain a comprehensive understanding of these films. Through doing these things I can assert why they have been labelled 'cult' and develop a further understanding of what the term means itself.
After gathering this research I will be able to begin to construct my article from it.
Posters to be used in article that demonstrate marketing playing up their 'cult value':
Screenshots from fan sites researched for project, that demonstrate fan participation and identification:
Timetable of tasks
Research into historical and social contexts: 2 days
Researching theories on cult cinema: 1 day
Researching genre theories: 1 day
Research into viewer behaviour and spectatorship theories: 2 days
View and carry out close analysis of case study films: 2 days
Research directors of chosen films: 2 days
Search for and review critical writings on films: 2 days
Analysis of notes made while watching films, collaborating this information with information gleaned about cult cinema: 2 days
Conduct further research into aspects of my films such as marketing, audience and critic response, box office figures: 2 days
Analyse fan sites and the fanbase surrounding films: 1 day
Look at box office figures for cult films, collect statistics about success afterwards due to DVD sales etc. (and this leading to further screenings) and draw up graphs: 1 day
Find images such as film posters which support theories: 1 day
Compile 'hierarchy of information', sorting research into an order that seems linear and makes sense by following the guidelines of my 'tree' of research : 2 days
Use this to construct detailed 'essay plan' for article 2 days
Write article: 1 week
Length: 4 - 5 weeks
Bibliography (annotated)
Films:
The Rocky Horror Picture Show, 1975, Jim Sharman (dir.), UK, 20th Century Fox
Pink Flamingos, 1972, John Waters (dir.), USA, New Line Cinema
Clockwork Orange, 1971, Stanley Kubrick (dir.), USA & UK, Warner Bros.
Books:
Brooker, Will and Jermyn, Deborah, The Audience Studies Reader, London: Routledge, 2003
Discusses subjects useful to my project such as theories around the spectator and audiences, fans, the internet in relation to audiences, and audience interactivity
Donahue, Suzanne and Donahue, Mikael Sovijarvi, Gods in Polyester or, a Survivor's Account of 70s Cinema Obscura, Succubus Press
Covers cult film in the 1970's, the time period I particularly need to investigate, and interestingly is a compilation of writings by actors, directors and producers, so gives a first hand account of the film industry at this time
Duff, David (ed.), Modern Genre Theory, Harlow, Longman, 2000
Includes work from several theorists on genre and is useful for my 'theories' section of research
Evans, David and Michaels, Scott, Rocky Horror: From Concept to Cult, Sanctuary Publishing, Ltd
Discusses the making of the film and contains film memorabilia. Highly relevant in analysing and understanding the film
Gray, Jonathan, Sandvoss, Cornel, and Harrington, C. Lee (eds.), Fandom: Identities and Communities in a Mediated World, New York: New York University Press, 2007
Offers a comprehensive understanding of fandom, and is particularly useful in terms of the 'fans belonging to a community' idea that I will discuss
Harris, Cheryl and Alexander, Alison (eds.), Theorizing Fandom: Fans, Subculture, and Identity, Hampton Press
Similarly useful to previous text, touches upon issues of identity being defined by the things you are a fan of
Hellekson, Karen and Busse, Kristina, Fan Fiction and Fan Communities in the Age of the Internet: New Essays, Jefferson, N.C. : McFarland & Co., 2006
Not entirely relevant as mostly focused on fan fiction, but does provide interesting discussion around fan communities on the internet, the opportunities the internet offers fans, and the concept of fans claiming and interacting with the content they are fans of, all of which are relevant to my project
Hughes, David, The Complete Kubrick, London: Virgin, 2000
Comprehensive work on Stanley Kubrick, the director of A Clockwork Orange, extremely useful in understanding both Kubrick as an auteur and A Clockwork Orange
Jancovich, Mark (ed.), Defining Cult Movies: the Cultural Politics of Oppositional Taste, Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2003
Concentrates on analysis of cult films, and how they can be defined, and discusses the cult film as one oppositional to mainstream and commercial film, as I will argue
Mathijs, Ernest and Mendik, Xavier, The Cult Film Reader, Maidenhead: Open University Press, 2008
Mayne, Judith, Cinema and Spectatorship, London: Routledge, 1993
Focuses on the role of the viewer in film
Mendik, Xavier and Harper, Graham (eds.), Unruly Pleasures: The Cult Film and Its Critics, Fabs Press
Neale, Steve, Genre and Hollywood, London: Routledge, 2000
Paszylk, Bartlomiej, The Pleasure and Pain of Cult Horror Films: A Historical Survey, McFarland
Pela, Robert L., Filthy: The Weird World of John Waters, Alyson Books
Discusses Waters' career, his films, his fans, and the impact he has had on Western culture
Staiger, Janet, Perverse Spectators: The Practices of Film Reception, New York: New York University Press, 2000
Stam, Robert and Miller, Toby (eds.) Film And Theory: An Anthology, Malden: Blackwell Publishers, 2000
Stokes, Melvyn and Maltby, Richard (eds.) Hollywood Spectatorship: Changing Perceptions of Cinema Audiences, London: British Film Institute, 2001
Telotte, J. P, The Cult Film Experience: Beyond All Reason, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1991.
Waters, John, Crackpot: The Obsessions of John Waters, Vintage
Written by Waters himself so gives insight into director of Pink Flamingos
Weinstock, Jeffery (ed.), Reading Rocky Horror: The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Popular Culture, New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008
Argues that Rocky Horror is the worlds most famous cult movie, and approaches the film from a number of different theoretical perspectives such as genre, a cultural angle, sexuality, among others. Extremely useful in understanding and analysing the film
Weinstock, Jeffery, The Rocky Horror Picture Show (Cultographies), Wallflower Press
Magazine and Journal articles:
'Top 50 Cult Movies', Entertainment Weekly, May 23, 2003
'The Rocky Horror Picture Show', Matthew Tinkcom, Science Fiction Film and Television, Volume 2, Issue 2, Spring 2009, pp. 311-314
Contemplates cult cinema and discusses the difficulties in defining the term, focusing specifically on The Rocky Horror Picture Show'. Also touches upon the topic of marketing strategies employed by the film industry to promote these films, which is highly relevant for my project
'Cult Films: Taboo and Transgression', Dusty Lavoie, Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Film and Television Studies, Volume 40.1, Spring 2010, pp. 109-11
Discusses cult cinema and its 'special relationship' with its audience
'From Spectator to "Differentiated" Consumer: Film Audience Research in the Era of Developed Socialism (1965–80)', Joshua First, Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History, Volume 9, Number 2, Spring 2008, pp. 317-344
'Star Wars Fans, DVD, and Cultural Ownership', Will Brooker, The Velvet Light Trap, Number 56, Fall 2005, pp. 36-44
' "You Are Invited to Participate": Interactive Fandom in the Age of the Movie Magazine', Marsha Orgeron, Journal of Film and Video, Volume 61, Number 3, Fall 2009, pp. 3-23
'The Stanley Kubrick Archives', Gabriel M. Paletz, The Moving Image, Volume 7, Number 1, Spring 2007, pp. 103-107
'A Dirty Shame', Mark Pfeiffer, found at www.thefilmjournal.com/issue10/dirtyshame.html
Discusses Waters' films, including Pink Flamingos
'Clockwork Orange Review', Richard Schickel in Life Magazine, Feb 4, 1972, Vol. 72, No. 4
Websites:
http://www.rockyhorror.com/history/howapbegan.php
Rocky Horror fansite, written in first person, detailing memories around the film such as the first time the author went to see it (first of 1,300 times!)
http://www.the-numbers.com/movies/records/
Useful website for box office figures and a films gross earnings
http://www.boxofficemojo.com/movies/?id=rockyhorrorpictureshow.htm
Page on Rocky Horror that details statistics such as box office profit
http://www.boxofficemojo.com/movies/?id=clockworkorange.htm
Page on A Clockwork Orange that details statistics such as box office profit
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066921/
Internet Movie Database page for A Clockwork Orange, gives large amount of useful information around aspects of the film, such as production
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0069089/
Internet Movie Database page for Pink Flamingos, gives large amount of useful information around aspects of the film, such as production
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0073629/
Internet Movie Database page for Rocky Horror, gives large amount of useful information around aspects of the film, such as production
http://www.dreamlandnews.com/fans/index.shtml
Community of John Waters fans
http://www.facebook.com/#!/group.php?gid=2204729054&ref=ts
'John Waters is a genius!' Facebook fan group
http://www.fanpop.com/spots/a-clockwork-orange
A Clockwork Orange fansite
http://moviescreens.tripod.com/clockwork/
A Clockwork Orange fansite
http://www.freewebs.com/riffrafffynn/
Rocky Horror Fansite
http://rockyhorror.nu/
Rocky Horror Fansite
http://www.rhpsfans.com/
Rocky Horror Fansite
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
Ideology, Race and Difference, and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
Within this essay I am going to discuss theories of Ideology and Race and Difference, and focusing on them produce a reading of Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom. I expect this reading to demonstrate that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom clearly positions its audience in an ideological sense. I also intend to demonstrate that the messages and values within Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom are highly questionable and that the representations of race we are offered within the film - through power struggles, the depictions of good and bad, of us and the other, clearly illustrate an ideological notion of race prevalent at the time in Western society.
Ideology can be defined as a set of beliefs, values, or ideas that have been shaped by the society they are a product of, and which themselves in turn shape that society, as members of said society conform to dominant ideologies.
Comolli and Narboni comment that ‘‘what the public wants’ means ‘what the dominant ideology wants’. The notion of a public and its tastes was created by the ideology to justify and perpetuate itself.’1
Ideology is what society uses to make sense of itself and the elements within it, and is directly linked to positions of power within society, the ideologies that are dominant and found most commonly are that which serve the powerful and not necessarily the greatest number of people. Despite this, and despite dominant ideologies both needing and creating a homogenised mass of people subscribing to them and embodying ‘society as a whole’, ideology works at the level of the individual through offering the individual representations of themselves and others.
These representations define us as an individual and as a collective – telling us who we are, who we should be, and influencing who we want to be. It is the largely the media that presents us with these representations and which plays an important part in shaping ideologies, as ideology is bound up within social institutions and this clearly reveals the need to study and analyse the representations offered to us by film.
Film theorists interested in ideology argue the idea that rather than portraying the ‘real’, cinema exposes to us the dominant and counter ideologies present in society2, whether it conforms to them or not. Through the analytical study of films, the conventions within them, and the tensions often present between dominant ideologies and the text or narrative, ideological readings can be formed and a films messages and meanings can be interpreted effectively.
Comolli and Narboni believe every film is political3, and it is the significance of ideology within film theory that politicises film; through the lense of ideology the representations films offer are no longer neutral, becoming predisposed and subjective. The realism offered by films utilises ideologies to tell us what is ‘real’, and can tell us something about the culture and society it is a product of.
Ideology is also a useful theory for understanding film because power hierarchies which we see within ideologies are also present within film and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is particularly an appropriate example to illustrate this.
Comolli and Narboni discuss the idea that film reproduces the world as it is experienced when ideologies and not really as it appears. They describe a number of categories they believe films fit into, ranging from the ‘first and largest category’ (a) which they describe as one who’s films ‘are imbued through and through with the dominant ideology in pure and unadulterated form’ through to (e) ‘films which at first sight seem to belong within the ideology and completely under its sway, but which turn out to be so only in an ambiguous manner’ to categories for highly political and revolutionary film. In my opinion the category Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom undoubtedly fits into is category (a), the authors explain that the films in this category are not just limited to ‘so-called ‘commercial’ films’, but that the ‘majority of films in all categories are the unconscious instruments of the ideology that produces them’. I do not believe that it is even this subtle with The Temple of Doom and that the film quite obviously fits into category (a).4
Klinger discusses the idea that a film needs to ‘escape... the conventional procedure of closure’5 to be ideologically complex and this conventional narrative structure is certainly unrealistic and supports the idea that films do not offer the real but a subjective view of reality. The Temple of Doom’s narrative is a conventional one following a typical ‘equilibrium, disruption, disequilibrium, resolution, return to equilibrium/new equilibrium formed’ pattern.
Theories of ideology are useful in understanding Indiana Jones and the Temple Of Doom because the film upholds dominant Western ideologies such as patriarchy, white dominance and capitalist ideals. Through close analysis of the film I found no clear examples of dominant ideologies that had been subverted. However, an interesting scene where this partly happens is the one in Willie and Indiana’s separate bedrooms in the palace, where for the first time they are portrayed as equals, both carrying out the same actions and saying the same things as they stubbornly wait for the other to come to their bedroom. This scene shows sex reducing men and women to an identical state; however it could be argued that as this is the only time Jones is at Willie’s level, the scene shows sex reducing men to the lower level of women.
It could be argued that the ideologies are specific to the time period and that the representations of sexism, racism and the positioning of the white man are no longer culturally relevant, but I would argue that these ideologies have been so deeply entrenched in Western culture since the time they were established that the criticism and analysis of them is still necessary and pertinent.
I would also argue that the positioning of the representations presented within the film, particularly the one of the colonising, white, Western male support the idea that dominant ideologies will be the ones that serve the most powerful.
I discussed earlier the idea that ideology could be said to be a ‘system of representations’, and the society within which we live is one with largely patriarchal ideologies. Klinger highlights the relation ideology theory and feminism have to each other and comments that ideology theory has been advanced through a ‘feminist perspective that employs … textual theories drawn from formalism, structuralism, semiotics, and psychoanalysis’.6
Women are a vehicle of male fantasy, in film as much as or more so than anywhere else, and Kate Capshaw as Willie in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom hardly subverts this role. A shallow character who proves useless in most situations, she is certainly not a positive representation of women, and Capshaw herself said that the character was little more than ‘a screaming dumb blonde’7.
In the film Willie is unintelligent, remarking in the first scene that “he’s mighty small” when presented with the ashes of a Ming dynasty emperor, and seems to be prized merely for being nice to look at, clearly supporting the patriarchal ideology of women as objects. She also appears pathetic and weak when she cannot handle being wet, sharing a plane with livestock, riding elephants, and bugs, among other things. This portrayal supports the idea that men are the stronger gender. She is also depicted as uncultured, impolite and fussy when refusing food from the starving villagers. Despite her annoyance throughout the film at Indiana she is submissive to him sexually whenever he demands her affection; in the closing scene Indiana merely lassoing Willie with his whip makes her fall into his arms!
Indiana talks to Willie in a condescending tone throughout the film, calling her ‘doll’ in a patronising manner that Short Round imitates. Short Round also addresses Willie rudely with a “Hey lady, you call him Dr Jones!” clearly placing men above women in the film’s hierarchy of power. As well as conforming to these ideologies that are dominant in the American/Western white culture the film is a product of, Willie also subscribes to stereotypical female ideologies around appearance, caring more that she ‘broke a nail’ than the loss of Jones’ gun, and putting perfume on an elephant. In another negative stereotype of women, she is portrayed as extremely materialistic, commenting on the ‘limousines and parties’ she used to frequent, as well as having a preoccupation with money and wealth. At one point in the cave she forgets her fear for her life upon hearing the word ‘diamonds’, at another she scrabbles on the floor of the nightclub for a diamond amidst shooting, at another she fits the materialistic ‘gold-digger’ stereotype when she remarks that the ‘maharaja is swimming in loot’ and then enquires whether he has a wife.
However, the ideologies the film arguably presents to us most strongly are arguably the ones that centre on race and the hierarchies of power between races within the film. The film clearly intends to position us with the white hero, and in the first scene we see Indiana as ‘above’ the villainous Chinese gangsters, who are vicious, calculating and untrustworthy, contrasting sharply with our hero who is portrayed as noble and a man of his word. A power hierarchy with Jones at the head is also clear when we see the Mayapore villagers dependant and submissive to him as he enters their village, and I will discuss this further when focusing on race and difference.
Capitalist ideals are clear in the film when we see the exchanging of goods and the seeking of riches, and are present in Indiana’s desire to seek ‘fortune and glory’. Another dominant ideology clearly present is the one which dictates women need a heterosexual relationship to achieve a ‘happy ending’, and the closing scene of the film communicates this message unmistakably.
Theories of Race and Difference are obviously highly significant in understanding Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom because of the prevalence of representations of the ‘other’ within the film. These representations play a big part in revealing the dominant ideologies, as previously discussed.
Saussure said that ‘difference is essential to meaning’, and that you cannot understand something and know the qualities that make it what it is until you know what is different from it. However, this does not suggest that different necessarily has to mean negative, as Indiana Jones arguably does. However, Saussure did believe that binary oppositions will not be neutral and that one pole will be dominant, and it could be argued that an idealist society would be one with neutral oppositions.
The marking of difference is what constructs ideologies and hierarchies within our culture, as the marking of difference is what lies at the base of representations. Our understanding and construction of ourselves are reliant on the other, in Saussure’s terms we cannot understand ourselves until we know what we are not, what is different from us.
Stuart Hall comments on pro-Western ideas’ portrayal of the West as being civilised, industrialised, capitalist, modern, and governed by reason, whereas the Non Western world is portrayed as primitive, underdeveloped, pre-capitalist or communist, rural, backward, and governed by emotion.8 The representations in the Temple of Doom support this completely, with the civilised, American hero Indiana Jones coming to the rescue of/defeating two groups of equally primitive and uncivilised Indians. The Western characters in the film also have far more defined personalities than the two-dimensional homogenous groups of Mayapore villagers and Thuggee cult members, and this supports Hall’s theory that pro-Western ideologies depict Western people as individuals, and the ‘rest’ as a mass, a type.9
It is ironic that so much is made of the individual in Western ideologies, and represented as important when a closer look will reveal that these ideas and this culture requires the individual to subscribe to dominant ideologies and become part of a collective mass.
The representations Hall has attributed to the West and the ‘rest’ also reveal which qualities are prized most highly within our society, with our ideologies telling us that rationality and modernity are more valuable than emotion and tradition, but is reason really more desirable than emotion? Some of the qualities attributed to the Non-West, being governed by emotion for example, suggest that the Non-West will be more in touch with the creative side of themselves.
This imposition of Western values and normalities and generalising of the ‘other’ as ‘all the same’ speaks of our desire to colonise and the failure to distinguish, understand and value difference within the ‘other’. This can clearly be seen as Indiana Jones rides into rescue and reform the villagers, justifying colonisation and the westernisation of the other. Westernisation of the other can also be seen in Short Round, who wears a New York Yankees baseball cap and adopts Jones’ mannerisms and catchphrases.
Bhabha also discusses the idea that our ideas of the ‘other’ come from us projecting our desires and fantasies onto, as well as idealising inhabitants of the Non-West10, and examples of this in The Temple of Doom are seen when the Indian characters are either idealised as dependant and week to justify our dominance over them, or are otherwise exhibiting primal urges.
Race and Difference theories are extremely significant within film theory as through understanding the stereotypes we are presented with and why they are there, we can understand the ideologies the film is trying to distribute, the message imparted and the position we are offered within this as an audience.
In Bhabha’s ‘The Other Question: Stereotype, discrimination and the discourse of colonialism’ he makes several points extremely pertinent to my discussion. He comments on the idea that the ‘male ‘American’ spirit [is] always under threat from races and cultures beyond the border or frontier’11 and this is translated quite literally onto the screen as we see Jones chained to a rock, force-fed blood, and induced into the Thuggee cult.
Bhabha also makes a point I would like to quote in its entirety as I feel it is extremely relevant to my discussion and encapsulates my reading of the film quite succinctly:
‘The objective of colonial discourse is to construe the colonized as a population of degenerate types on the basis of racial origin, in order to justify conquest and to establish systems of administration and instruction.’12
These theories are useful in understanding Indiana Jones because the film offers a representation of ‘the other’ that is undoubtedly derogatory; the indigenous peoples in the film are clearly backward, heathen, unrealistic representations.
The audience of the film is clearly positioned to favour the heroic, white, male Jones and associate themselves with him, while seeing the ‘other’ – the Indians as ‘bad’. As I mentioned earlier a Western desire to colonise is evident within the Americanising of other races within the film, Indiana’s Chinese sidekick Short Round uses American slang and the ‘good’ Indians – the Mayapore villagers, are dependent on Indiana and submissive and so are acceptable. When Willie asks how Jones found Short Round he replies that he “didn’t find him, I caught him… trying to pick my pocket”, then redeeming him and providing yet another example of a character of another race requiring Jones’ heroism and help to set him on the right path. Through this ‘salvation’ and subsequent westernisation of Short Round he becomes an acceptable character, though still fetishized for his difference, as his English is not perfect and his Chinese accent in pronouncing words – “Mo more parachutes!” seems to be intended to be humorous.
We can take Jones as a representation that stands for the male, white, western world, and the subsequent representations of Indians and Hinduism are close-minded and bigoted portrayals. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was filmed in Sri Lanka rather than India as the Indian Government found the script racist and did not approve filming, asking for changes to be made.13 That the Indian Government were unhappy with the portrayals within the film and perceived them as racist is highly relevant to the representations within the film. Despite this Spielberg and Lucas, hugely important figures in Western cinema, subsequently won an Oscar for the film and were nominated for one more, while in India the country’s censors banned the film and the depiction of Hinduism within the film caused controversy.14 It could be argued that this says something about Western or Hollywood cinema as a whole, and that this is typical of filmmakers who view the ideologies their films impress as more important than realistic representations.
The meals eaten at the palace, which are assumedly meant to be a humorous take on Indian cuisine - Snake Surprise (which is full of live worms), dishes of beetles and eyeball soup, are all indicative of the uncivilised and primitive representations of the Indians, as are the man who burps loudly and the description of chilled monkey brains as a ‘dessert’. These characters are also child-stealing, a characteristic that is seen as the epitome of evil, and is often used in propaganda to slight groups.
The depiction of the Thuggee’s eating monkey brains is highly inaccurate as monkeys are revered within Hinduism, although it could be argued that this then suggests that the cult are not true Hindus and are villainous heretics. However, if this was what was intended this needed to be made clearer, and because of this the representation of the Thuggee’s is a dangerous and inaccurate representation of Hinduism.
The other Indian characters we see are pitiful and weak before their salvation at the hands of Indiana, and we see them stroking his clothes in begging gestures, looking adoringly at him, waiting on him and bringing him food, all of which support ideologies of Western rule.
All of these representations contrast strongly with the portrayal of Jones who appears more educated, noble, brave and knowledgeable than all the other characters without exception.
Ideology theory arguably has limitations because we are in danger of politicising a film’s content too thoroughly. When we produce a reading of a film through focusing on ideology there are no neutral representations and these representations and politics take precedence over narrative. The importance of the individual is ignored in favour of looking for the dominant ideologies present, and the auteur’s intentions and narrative meaning can be obscured. It could also be argued that it is impossible to ever produce an unbiased commentary on a film in terms of ideology because we are ourselves part of an ideology; the one dominant in our own society.
Limitations of understanding a film through Race and Difference are similar; arguably a character may no longer be seen as an individual and more as a representation of his and her race. This is damaging, as viewing characters as standing for their entire race and not as single individuals capable of good and evil as all human beings are can lead to unfounded accusations of racist representations.
In terms of Indiana Jones and the Temple Of Doom, these arguments could suggest that the film has been too politicised, and was intended to simply be a fantasy-adventure film with a narrative focusing on one individual heroic protagonist defeating a single evil tribe that have through an ideological reading unwittingly come to stand for the colonising Western world Vs. India/Hinduism/the ‘other’. However, for Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom I find these limitations of the theories irrelevant, as I believe the reading that the representations within the film are racist and Western extolling extremely accurate. It is my opinion that the representations within the film cannot just be those of individuals, and come to stand for white Westerners and ‘uncivilised’ Indians as a whole, and that the Indian government’s decision to ban the film proves that this was felt by the nation it depicted.
In conclusion, it is my opinion that Ideology and Race and Difference prove valuable theories for understanding the text and provide an apt reading of the film. I would summarise my findings by saying that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is a film that perpetrates dominant Western ideologies, expresses a desire to colonise and contains largely negative representations of the ‘other’, and that while it may be an effective piece of cinema within the Fantasy-Adventure genre, it is irresponsible in terms of the ideologies and representations it presents.
Bibliography
Bhabha, Homi K., “The Other Question: Stereotype, discrimination and the discourse of colonialism’, from Bhabha, The Location of Culture (London: Routledge 1994)
Comolli, Jean-Luc and Narboni, Jean, “Cinema/Ideology/Criticism” (Braudy, 812-819)
Fanon, Franz, “The Fact Of Blackness” from Black Skin, White Masks (Chippenham: Pluto, 1986)
Gilman, Sander L., “What are Stereotypes?, from Difference and Pathology (Ithaca and London: Cornell Univ. Press, 1985)
Gogoi, Pallavi, “Banned Films Around the World: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom”. (BusinessWeek, 05-11-2006)
Hall, Stuart, “The Spectacle of the ‘Other’ ” in Hall (ed.) Representation (London: Sage 1997)
Klinger, Barbara, “‘Cinema/Ideology/Criticism’ Revisited: The Progressive Text” (Screen, 25.1 pp. 30-44)
McBride, Joseph, “Ecstasy and Grief” in Steven Spielberg: A Biography (New York: Faber and Faber, 1997)
Ideology can be defined as a set of beliefs, values, or ideas that have been shaped by the society they are a product of, and which themselves in turn shape that society, as members of said society conform to dominant ideologies.
Comolli and Narboni comment that ‘‘what the public wants’ means ‘what the dominant ideology wants’. The notion of a public and its tastes was created by the ideology to justify and perpetuate itself.’1
Ideology is what society uses to make sense of itself and the elements within it, and is directly linked to positions of power within society, the ideologies that are dominant and found most commonly are that which serve the powerful and not necessarily the greatest number of people. Despite this, and despite dominant ideologies both needing and creating a homogenised mass of people subscribing to them and embodying ‘society as a whole’, ideology works at the level of the individual through offering the individual representations of themselves and others.
These representations define us as an individual and as a collective – telling us who we are, who we should be, and influencing who we want to be. It is the largely the media that presents us with these representations and which plays an important part in shaping ideologies, as ideology is bound up within social institutions and this clearly reveals the need to study and analyse the representations offered to us by film.
Film theorists interested in ideology argue the idea that rather than portraying the ‘real’, cinema exposes to us the dominant and counter ideologies present in society2, whether it conforms to them or not. Through the analytical study of films, the conventions within them, and the tensions often present between dominant ideologies and the text or narrative, ideological readings can be formed and a films messages and meanings can be interpreted effectively.
Comolli and Narboni believe every film is political3, and it is the significance of ideology within film theory that politicises film; through the lense of ideology the representations films offer are no longer neutral, becoming predisposed and subjective. The realism offered by films utilises ideologies to tell us what is ‘real’, and can tell us something about the culture and society it is a product of.
Ideology is also a useful theory for understanding film because power hierarchies which we see within ideologies are also present within film and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is particularly an appropriate example to illustrate this.
Comolli and Narboni discuss the idea that film reproduces the world as it is experienced when ideologies and not really as it appears. They describe a number of categories they believe films fit into, ranging from the ‘first and largest category’ (a) which they describe as one who’s films ‘are imbued through and through with the dominant ideology in pure and unadulterated form’ through to (e) ‘films which at first sight seem to belong within the ideology and completely under its sway, but which turn out to be so only in an ambiguous manner’ to categories for highly political and revolutionary film. In my opinion the category Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom undoubtedly fits into is category (a), the authors explain that the films in this category are not just limited to ‘so-called ‘commercial’ films’, but that the ‘majority of films in all categories are the unconscious instruments of the ideology that produces them’. I do not believe that it is even this subtle with The Temple of Doom and that the film quite obviously fits into category (a).4
Klinger discusses the idea that a film needs to ‘escape... the conventional procedure of closure’5 to be ideologically complex and this conventional narrative structure is certainly unrealistic and supports the idea that films do not offer the real but a subjective view of reality. The Temple of Doom’s narrative is a conventional one following a typical ‘equilibrium, disruption, disequilibrium, resolution, return to equilibrium/new equilibrium formed’ pattern.
Theories of ideology are useful in understanding Indiana Jones and the Temple Of Doom because the film upholds dominant Western ideologies such as patriarchy, white dominance and capitalist ideals. Through close analysis of the film I found no clear examples of dominant ideologies that had been subverted. However, an interesting scene where this partly happens is the one in Willie and Indiana’s separate bedrooms in the palace, where for the first time they are portrayed as equals, both carrying out the same actions and saying the same things as they stubbornly wait for the other to come to their bedroom. This scene shows sex reducing men and women to an identical state; however it could be argued that as this is the only time Jones is at Willie’s level, the scene shows sex reducing men to the lower level of women.
It could be argued that the ideologies are specific to the time period and that the representations of sexism, racism and the positioning of the white man are no longer culturally relevant, but I would argue that these ideologies have been so deeply entrenched in Western culture since the time they were established that the criticism and analysis of them is still necessary and pertinent.
I would also argue that the positioning of the representations presented within the film, particularly the one of the colonising, white, Western male support the idea that dominant ideologies will be the ones that serve the most powerful.
I discussed earlier the idea that ideology could be said to be a ‘system of representations’, and the society within which we live is one with largely patriarchal ideologies. Klinger highlights the relation ideology theory and feminism have to each other and comments that ideology theory has been advanced through a ‘feminist perspective that employs … textual theories drawn from formalism, structuralism, semiotics, and psychoanalysis’.6
Women are a vehicle of male fantasy, in film as much as or more so than anywhere else, and Kate Capshaw as Willie in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom hardly subverts this role. A shallow character who proves useless in most situations, she is certainly not a positive representation of women, and Capshaw herself said that the character was little more than ‘a screaming dumb blonde’7.
In the film Willie is unintelligent, remarking in the first scene that “he’s mighty small” when presented with the ashes of a Ming dynasty emperor, and seems to be prized merely for being nice to look at, clearly supporting the patriarchal ideology of women as objects. She also appears pathetic and weak when she cannot handle being wet, sharing a plane with livestock, riding elephants, and bugs, among other things. This portrayal supports the idea that men are the stronger gender. She is also depicted as uncultured, impolite and fussy when refusing food from the starving villagers. Despite her annoyance throughout the film at Indiana she is submissive to him sexually whenever he demands her affection; in the closing scene Indiana merely lassoing Willie with his whip makes her fall into his arms!
Indiana talks to Willie in a condescending tone throughout the film, calling her ‘doll’ in a patronising manner that Short Round imitates. Short Round also addresses Willie rudely with a “Hey lady, you call him Dr Jones!” clearly placing men above women in the film’s hierarchy of power. As well as conforming to these ideologies that are dominant in the American/Western white culture the film is a product of, Willie also subscribes to stereotypical female ideologies around appearance, caring more that she ‘broke a nail’ than the loss of Jones’ gun, and putting perfume on an elephant. In another negative stereotype of women, she is portrayed as extremely materialistic, commenting on the ‘limousines and parties’ she used to frequent, as well as having a preoccupation with money and wealth. At one point in the cave she forgets her fear for her life upon hearing the word ‘diamonds’, at another she scrabbles on the floor of the nightclub for a diamond amidst shooting, at another she fits the materialistic ‘gold-digger’ stereotype when she remarks that the ‘maharaja is swimming in loot’ and then enquires whether he has a wife.
However, the ideologies the film arguably presents to us most strongly are arguably the ones that centre on race and the hierarchies of power between races within the film. The film clearly intends to position us with the white hero, and in the first scene we see Indiana as ‘above’ the villainous Chinese gangsters, who are vicious, calculating and untrustworthy, contrasting sharply with our hero who is portrayed as noble and a man of his word. A power hierarchy with Jones at the head is also clear when we see the Mayapore villagers dependant and submissive to him as he enters their village, and I will discuss this further when focusing on race and difference.
Capitalist ideals are clear in the film when we see the exchanging of goods and the seeking of riches, and are present in Indiana’s desire to seek ‘fortune and glory’. Another dominant ideology clearly present is the one which dictates women need a heterosexual relationship to achieve a ‘happy ending’, and the closing scene of the film communicates this message unmistakably.
Theories of Race and Difference are obviously highly significant in understanding Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom because of the prevalence of representations of the ‘other’ within the film. These representations play a big part in revealing the dominant ideologies, as previously discussed.
Saussure said that ‘difference is essential to meaning’, and that you cannot understand something and know the qualities that make it what it is until you know what is different from it. However, this does not suggest that different necessarily has to mean negative, as Indiana Jones arguably does. However, Saussure did believe that binary oppositions will not be neutral and that one pole will be dominant, and it could be argued that an idealist society would be one with neutral oppositions.
The marking of difference is what constructs ideologies and hierarchies within our culture, as the marking of difference is what lies at the base of representations. Our understanding and construction of ourselves are reliant on the other, in Saussure’s terms we cannot understand ourselves until we know what we are not, what is different from us.
Stuart Hall comments on pro-Western ideas’ portrayal of the West as being civilised, industrialised, capitalist, modern, and governed by reason, whereas the Non Western world is portrayed as primitive, underdeveloped, pre-capitalist or communist, rural, backward, and governed by emotion.8 The representations in the Temple of Doom support this completely, with the civilised, American hero Indiana Jones coming to the rescue of/defeating two groups of equally primitive and uncivilised Indians. The Western characters in the film also have far more defined personalities than the two-dimensional homogenous groups of Mayapore villagers and Thuggee cult members, and this supports Hall’s theory that pro-Western ideologies depict Western people as individuals, and the ‘rest’ as a mass, a type.9
It is ironic that so much is made of the individual in Western ideologies, and represented as important when a closer look will reveal that these ideas and this culture requires the individual to subscribe to dominant ideologies and become part of a collective mass.
The representations Hall has attributed to the West and the ‘rest’ also reveal which qualities are prized most highly within our society, with our ideologies telling us that rationality and modernity are more valuable than emotion and tradition, but is reason really more desirable than emotion? Some of the qualities attributed to the Non-West, being governed by emotion for example, suggest that the Non-West will be more in touch with the creative side of themselves.
This imposition of Western values and normalities and generalising of the ‘other’ as ‘all the same’ speaks of our desire to colonise and the failure to distinguish, understand and value difference within the ‘other’. This can clearly be seen as Indiana Jones rides into rescue and reform the villagers, justifying colonisation and the westernisation of the other. Westernisation of the other can also be seen in Short Round, who wears a New York Yankees baseball cap and adopts Jones’ mannerisms and catchphrases.
Bhabha also discusses the idea that our ideas of the ‘other’ come from us projecting our desires and fantasies onto, as well as idealising inhabitants of the Non-West10, and examples of this in The Temple of Doom are seen when the Indian characters are either idealised as dependant and week to justify our dominance over them, or are otherwise exhibiting primal urges.
Race and Difference theories are extremely significant within film theory as through understanding the stereotypes we are presented with and why they are there, we can understand the ideologies the film is trying to distribute, the message imparted and the position we are offered within this as an audience.
In Bhabha’s ‘The Other Question: Stereotype, discrimination and the discourse of colonialism’ he makes several points extremely pertinent to my discussion. He comments on the idea that the ‘male ‘American’ spirit [is] always under threat from races and cultures beyond the border or frontier’11 and this is translated quite literally onto the screen as we see Jones chained to a rock, force-fed blood, and induced into the Thuggee cult.
Bhabha also makes a point I would like to quote in its entirety as I feel it is extremely relevant to my discussion and encapsulates my reading of the film quite succinctly:
‘The objective of colonial discourse is to construe the colonized as a population of degenerate types on the basis of racial origin, in order to justify conquest and to establish systems of administration and instruction.’12
These theories are useful in understanding Indiana Jones because the film offers a representation of ‘the other’ that is undoubtedly derogatory; the indigenous peoples in the film are clearly backward, heathen, unrealistic representations.
The audience of the film is clearly positioned to favour the heroic, white, male Jones and associate themselves with him, while seeing the ‘other’ – the Indians as ‘bad’. As I mentioned earlier a Western desire to colonise is evident within the Americanising of other races within the film, Indiana’s Chinese sidekick Short Round uses American slang and the ‘good’ Indians – the Mayapore villagers, are dependent on Indiana and submissive and so are acceptable. When Willie asks how Jones found Short Round he replies that he “didn’t find him, I caught him… trying to pick my pocket”, then redeeming him and providing yet another example of a character of another race requiring Jones’ heroism and help to set him on the right path. Through this ‘salvation’ and subsequent westernisation of Short Round he becomes an acceptable character, though still fetishized for his difference, as his English is not perfect and his Chinese accent in pronouncing words – “Mo more parachutes!” seems to be intended to be humorous.
We can take Jones as a representation that stands for the male, white, western world, and the subsequent representations of Indians and Hinduism are close-minded and bigoted portrayals. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was filmed in Sri Lanka rather than India as the Indian Government found the script racist and did not approve filming, asking for changes to be made.13 That the Indian Government were unhappy with the portrayals within the film and perceived them as racist is highly relevant to the representations within the film. Despite this Spielberg and Lucas, hugely important figures in Western cinema, subsequently won an Oscar for the film and were nominated for one more, while in India the country’s censors banned the film and the depiction of Hinduism within the film caused controversy.14 It could be argued that this says something about Western or Hollywood cinema as a whole, and that this is typical of filmmakers who view the ideologies their films impress as more important than realistic representations.
The meals eaten at the palace, which are assumedly meant to be a humorous take on Indian cuisine - Snake Surprise (which is full of live worms), dishes of beetles and eyeball soup, are all indicative of the uncivilised and primitive representations of the Indians, as are the man who burps loudly and the description of chilled monkey brains as a ‘dessert’. These characters are also child-stealing, a characteristic that is seen as the epitome of evil, and is often used in propaganda to slight groups.
The depiction of the Thuggee’s eating monkey brains is highly inaccurate as monkeys are revered within Hinduism, although it could be argued that this then suggests that the cult are not true Hindus and are villainous heretics. However, if this was what was intended this needed to be made clearer, and because of this the representation of the Thuggee’s is a dangerous and inaccurate representation of Hinduism.
The other Indian characters we see are pitiful and weak before their salvation at the hands of Indiana, and we see them stroking his clothes in begging gestures, looking adoringly at him, waiting on him and bringing him food, all of which support ideologies of Western rule.
All of these representations contrast strongly with the portrayal of Jones who appears more educated, noble, brave and knowledgeable than all the other characters without exception.
Ideology theory arguably has limitations because we are in danger of politicising a film’s content too thoroughly. When we produce a reading of a film through focusing on ideology there are no neutral representations and these representations and politics take precedence over narrative. The importance of the individual is ignored in favour of looking for the dominant ideologies present, and the auteur’s intentions and narrative meaning can be obscured. It could also be argued that it is impossible to ever produce an unbiased commentary on a film in terms of ideology because we are ourselves part of an ideology; the one dominant in our own society.
Limitations of understanding a film through Race and Difference are similar; arguably a character may no longer be seen as an individual and more as a representation of his and her race. This is damaging, as viewing characters as standing for their entire race and not as single individuals capable of good and evil as all human beings are can lead to unfounded accusations of racist representations.
In terms of Indiana Jones and the Temple Of Doom, these arguments could suggest that the film has been too politicised, and was intended to simply be a fantasy-adventure film with a narrative focusing on one individual heroic protagonist defeating a single evil tribe that have through an ideological reading unwittingly come to stand for the colonising Western world Vs. India/Hinduism/the ‘other’. However, for Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom I find these limitations of the theories irrelevant, as I believe the reading that the representations within the film are racist and Western extolling extremely accurate. It is my opinion that the representations within the film cannot just be those of individuals, and come to stand for white Westerners and ‘uncivilised’ Indians as a whole, and that the Indian government’s decision to ban the film proves that this was felt by the nation it depicted.
In conclusion, it is my opinion that Ideology and Race and Difference prove valuable theories for understanding the text and provide an apt reading of the film. I would summarise my findings by saying that Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is a film that perpetrates dominant Western ideologies, expresses a desire to colonise and contains largely negative representations of the ‘other’, and that while it may be an effective piece of cinema within the Fantasy-Adventure genre, it is irresponsible in terms of the ideologies and representations it presents.
Bibliography
Bhabha, Homi K., “The Other Question: Stereotype, discrimination and the discourse of colonialism’, from Bhabha, The Location of Culture (London: Routledge 1994)
Comolli, Jean-Luc and Narboni, Jean, “Cinema/Ideology/Criticism” (Braudy, 812-819)
Fanon, Franz, “The Fact Of Blackness” from Black Skin, White Masks (Chippenham: Pluto, 1986)
Gilman, Sander L., “What are Stereotypes?, from Difference and Pathology (Ithaca and London: Cornell Univ. Press, 1985)
Gogoi, Pallavi, “Banned Films Around the World: Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom”. (BusinessWeek, 05-11-2006)
Hall, Stuart, “The Spectacle of the ‘Other’ ” in Hall (ed.) Representation (London: Sage 1997)
Klinger, Barbara, “‘Cinema/Ideology/Criticism’ Revisited: The Progressive Text” (Screen, 25.1 pp. 30-44)
McBride, Joseph, “Ecstasy and Grief” in Steven Spielberg: A Biography (New York: Faber and Faber, 1997)
Monday, 18 May 2009
The relationship between reality, history and narrative form
The relationship between realism or historical accuracy and narrative form is a problematic one, with ethical issues arising in works that perpetuate an image of realism.
Cinematic representations of real events subvert history, and it is by understanding the filmmakers intentions, that we can understand the ‘reality’ with which we have been presented.
It is arguable that subjectivity is inevitable and unavoidable within films, even those which aim to retell or capture reality objectively.
Documentaries are an editing of the truth, and Austin observes that the real world ‘exceeds the borders of any film’1, or as Felperin suggests, ‘documentaries, can only capture a slice of a larger story which can never be wholly contained by a feature length film.’2
The ambiguity in Capturing The Friedmans offers the audience the opportunity to interact with the film, the marketable value in this not lost on the films distributors. The tagline, ‘who will you believe?’, alludes to the feeling that it is the viewer who will ultimately decide what the truth is, the viewer who is the judge and jury, and that within the film we are led to come to our own conclusions.3 This marketing of the film, almost as a mystery, or thriller4, could be said to be irresponsible and at the expense of the victims whose story is being told, turning reality into entertainment. It is this ambiguity within the film which in some respects, makes the realism less than convincing; we never truly discover whether Arnold and Jesse, the alleged abusers, are guilty of the crimes they are jailed for. Audiences are often unaccepting of ambiguity, preferring a explicit and clear explanation, but the ambiguity here is the device through which the narrative thrives.
Capturing The Friedmans, like so many other or arguably all documentaries, provides access to events but through a subjective lense. Upon closer examination of the film, and the elements of the story not included, it becomes clear we are not offered the full picture, the view of the story and the characters we are given manipulated. Seth Friedman declined to appear in the film, leading director Andrew Jarecki to mostly exclude footage which showed Seth. This surely suggests that the account we are presented with is altered and edited from reality, causing the reliability of the information to be called into question. The portrayal of the alleged victims and police officers disturbs the neutrality and unbias of the film, often combined through editing with conflicting and contradictory images or testimonies, with another of Friedman’s students dismissing the accusations as a ‘grotesque fantasy.’5 Although the tagline of the film suggests the verdict is left to the viewer, it becomes clear that Jarecki’s editing techniques work in favour of the Friedman’s innocence, despite admittances from Arnold of his paedophilia.
In making the film Jarecki had to make sense of and condense ‘a seesaw of conflicting narratives and contradictory versions of the truth’6, admitting himself that “while not everyone in this film tells the truth, I don’t find most of them to be consciously lying about anything.”7
The police investigation into the Friedman’s is portrayed, perhaps fairly, as a witch-hunt, with experts condemning the hypnosis techniques used to gain evidence from the alleged victims, and absolutely no physical evidence provided in the case.8 As we never actually view the alleged abuse within the film, it is hard to imagine these moments in the same reality as the moments we are shown, such as home videos of happier Friedman family moments, and this perhaps goes some way to shaping our opinions of the truth. Although the aesthetic of home video can subtly make ‘implicit claims to.. veracity and integrity’9 through amateur techniques that suggest more of a focus on depicting reality than creating masterful films, Orgeron notes that ‘home videographers have already made a pre-emptive directorial intervention by... representational decisions, inclusions as well as exclusions.. these decisions impact.. the documentaries that employ this footage.’10 Austin notes that the filmmakers have been criticised for ‘prioritising dramatic imperatives over honesty and accuracy’11, and this suggests a criticism that the documentary is more a piece of entertainment than factual filmmaking. Rich argues that in trying to obtain commercial success, ‘documentary itself sometimes seen to be mutating into a new hybrid phase altogether, the “docutainment,” which offers newly marketable pleasures to a fiction-sated audience: Capturing the Friedmans, say..’12
The issue of exploitation of factual material to produce entertainment is one that is also relevant in discussing Makhmalbaf’s The Apple. The film depicts the story of neglect of two young girls with the air of a documentary, and like many Iranian films, its ‘narrative premise is anchored in a true occurrence’13, using the actual people involved to retell the story. The repercussions in ‘remaking’ real life, the ethical risk of exploiting people’s suffering, become evident when the father of the girls, reading of the story in a newspaper, breaks down, distressed by the media coverage, ironic, as he was presumably surrounded by cameras and film crew.
A cultural imposition is put upon the relationship between reality and narrative form in Iranian cinema by modesty regulations, which mean that women may not appear on film unveiled, even within their own homes where they normally would be.14 Therefore, depictions of Iranian women on screen are unrealistic and limiting, with Makhmalbaf admitting that ‘with the enforced censorship, you must simply find new and interesting ways of expressing ideas through the vocabulary of cinema.’15
By expressing Massoumeh and Zahra’s story through the ‘vocabulary of cinema’, Makhmalbaf treats reality and history with artistic license and makes a film which is open to allegorical readings. As Austin comments of Capturing The Friedmans, so here is a ‘tension between evidentiality and aestheticisation.’16
Darznik says that The Apple is a ‘horror story in the way that only reality can be horrible’17, attributing realism to the film, but also alluding to the very fictional and mainstream genre of horror.
Supporting the idea that the film is perhaps more fictionalised than one would ascertain at first glance, Danks comments that The Apple takes its lead from films which ‘blur the distinctions between cinema and life’18 and that it ‘depicts a sensational story, and sensational stories are, whatever their cultural contexts, necessarily exaggerated versions of reality.’19 Adair agrees, saying that the film is ‘a semi-fictionalised film at that, for The Apple is not a documentary.’20 Makhmalbaf may not claim that the film is a documentary, but the film certainly stresses the point that it is based on a true story, albeit the director’s retelling of it through the ‘vocabulary of cinema’.
The reworking of history is evident in Todd Haynes’ Velvet Goldmine. The film reimagines the days of Glam Rock through queer-tinted glasses, interpreting the queer undertones and themes present in the movement and exaggerating them, altering the reality of the time into something of a fantasy. The film’s introduction announces to the audience that ‘Histories, like ancient ruins, are the fictions of empires’21, and the film’s reimagining of the 1970’s wholly upholds this suggestion. Velvet Goldmine explores the idea of images shaping queer culture and audiences, and Haynes uses reality to support an agenda, the history of the Glam Rock movement utilised to serve a function of queer wish fulfilment. DeAngelis states that Velvet Goldmine offered Haynes an opportunity to ‘queer the present, by reconstituting the notion of ‘reality’ itself through multiple juxtapositions of histories remembered, forgotten, and repressed’.22
History, reality, and narrative form are clearly inextricably linked, but their relationship is anything but clear cut. Narrative form is not a direct representation of reality but a subjective interpretation of it, and as much as it tries to struggle against that fact, it will always be the case.
Bibliography
Adair, Gilbert, “Cinema: The girl with the movie camera”, The Independent on Sunday, 27 December 1998
Austin, Thomas, “‘The most confusing tears’: home video, sex crime, and indeterminacy in Capturing the Friedmans”, Watching the World: Screen Documentary and Audiences, 2007
Becker, Snowden, “Capturing the Friedmans”, The Moving Image vol. 4 no. 1, Spring 2004, pp. 145-148
Danks, Adrian, “The House That Mohsen Built: The Films of Samira Makhmalbaf and Marzieh Meshkini”, Senses of Cinema, 2002;
Darznik, Jasmine, “Shining Rotten Apple, A horrific film that must be seen”, The Iranian, March 3 1999
DeAngelis, Michael, “The Characteristics of New Queer Filmmaking: Case Study—Todd Haynes” in Michele Aaron (ed.) New Queer Cinema: A Critical Reader, New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2004; pp. 41–52
Fairweather, Kathleen, “A Family Affair: Filmmaker Andrew Jarecki Discusses How He Captured ‘The Friedmans,’” International Documentary, July 2003.
Orgeron, Marsha, “Familial Pursuits, Editorial Acts: Documentaries after the Age of Home Video”, The Velvet Light Trap no. 60, Autumn 2007; pp. 47-62
Rich, B. Ruby, “Documentary Disciplines: An Introduction”, Cinema Journal vol. 46 no. 1, Autumn 2006; pp. 108-115
Wood, Jason, “A Quick Chat with Samira Makhmalbaf”, http://kamera.co.uk
Velvet Goldmine (US/UK, Todd Haynes, 1998)
The Apple (Iran, Samira Makhmalbaf, 1999)
Capturing The Friedmans (US, Andrew Jarecki, 2003)
Cinematic representations of real events subvert history, and it is by understanding the filmmakers intentions, that we can understand the ‘reality’ with which we have been presented.
It is arguable that subjectivity is inevitable and unavoidable within films, even those which aim to retell or capture reality objectively.
Documentaries are an editing of the truth, and Austin observes that the real world ‘exceeds the borders of any film’1, or as Felperin suggests, ‘documentaries, can only capture a slice of a larger story which can never be wholly contained by a feature length film.’2
The ambiguity in Capturing The Friedmans offers the audience the opportunity to interact with the film, the marketable value in this not lost on the films distributors. The tagline, ‘who will you believe?’, alludes to the feeling that it is the viewer who will ultimately decide what the truth is, the viewer who is the judge and jury, and that within the film we are led to come to our own conclusions.3 This marketing of the film, almost as a mystery, or thriller4, could be said to be irresponsible and at the expense of the victims whose story is being told, turning reality into entertainment. It is this ambiguity within the film which in some respects, makes the realism less than convincing; we never truly discover whether Arnold and Jesse, the alleged abusers, are guilty of the crimes they are jailed for. Audiences are often unaccepting of ambiguity, preferring a explicit and clear explanation, but the ambiguity here is the device through which the narrative thrives.
Capturing The Friedmans, like so many other or arguably all documentaries, provides access to events but through a subjective lense. Upon closer examination of the film, and the elements of the story not included, it becomes clear we are not offered the full picture, the view of the story and the characters we are given manipulated. Seth Friedman declined to appear in the film, leading director Andrew Jarecki to mostly exclude footage which showed Seth. This surely suggests that the account we are presented with is altered and edited from reality, causing the reliability of the information to be called into question. The portrayal of the alleged victims and police officers disturbs the neutrality and unbias of the film, often combined through editing with conflicting and contradictory images or testimonies, with another of Friedman’s students dismissing the accusations as a ‘grotesque fantasy.’5 Although the tagline of the film suggests the verdict is left to the viewer, it becomes clear that Jarecki’s editing techniques work in favour of the Friedman’s innocence, despite admittances from Arnold of his paedophilia.
In making the film Jarecki had to make sense of and condense ‘a seesaw of conflicting narratives and contradictory versions of the truth’6, admitting himself that “while not everyone in this film tells the truth, I don’t find most of them to be consciously lying about anything.”7
The police investigation into the Friedman’s is portrayed, perhaps fairly, as a witch-hunt, with experts condemning the hypnosis techniques used to gain evidence from the alleged victims, and absolutely no physical evidence provided in the case.8 As we never actually view the alleged abuse within the film, it is hard to imagine these moments in the same reality as the moments we are shown, such as home videos of happier Friedman family moments, and this perhaps goes some way to shaping our opinions of the truth. Although the aesthetic of home video can subtly make ‘implicit claims to.. veracity and integrity’9 through amateur techniques that suggest more of a focus on depicting reality than creating masterful films, Orgeron notes that ‘home videographers have already made a pre-emptive directorial intervention by... representational decisions, inclusions as well as exclusions.. these decisions impact.. the documentaries that employ this footage.’10 Austin notes that the filmmakers have been criticised for ‘prioritising dramatic imperatives over honesty and accuracy’11, and this suggests a criticism that the documentary is more a piece of entertainment than factual filmmaking. Rich argues that in trying to obtain commercial success, ‘documentary itself sometimes seen to be mutating into a new hybrid phase altogether, the “docutainment,” which offers newly marketable pleasures to a fiction-sated audience: Capturing the Friedmans, say..’12
The issue of exploitation of factual material to produce entertainment is one that is also relevant in discussing Makhmalbaf’s The Apple. The film depicts the story of neglect of two young girls with the air of a documentary, and like many Iranian films, its ‘narrative premise is anchored in a true occurrence’13, using the actual people involved to retell the story. The repercussions in ‘remaking’ real life, the ethical risk of exploiting people’s suffering, become evident when the father of the girls, reading of the story in a newspaper, breaks down, distressed by the media coverage, ironic, as he was presumably surrounded by cameras and film crew.
A cultural imposition is put upon the relationship between reality and narrative form in Iranian cinema by modesty regulations, which mean that women may not appear on film unveiled, even within their own homes where they normally would be.14 Therefore, depictions of Iranian women on screen are unrealistic and limiting, with Makhmalbaf admitting that ‘with the enforced censorship, you must simply find new and interesting ways of expressing ideas through the vocabulary of cinema.’15
By expressing Massoumeh and Zahra’s story through the ‘vocabulary of cinema’, Makhmalbaf treats reality and history with artistic license and makes a film which is open to allegorical readings. As Austin comments of Capturing The Friedmans, so here is a ‘tension between evidentiality and aestheticisation.’16
Darznik says that The Apple is a ‘horror story in the way that only reality can be horrible’17, attributing realism to the film, but also alluding to the very fictional and mainstream genre of horror.
Supporting the idea that the film is perhaps more fictionalised than one would ascertain at first glance, Danks comments that The Apple takes its lead from films which ‘blur the distinctions between cinema and life’18 and that it ‘depicts a sensational story, and sensational stories are, whatever their cultural contexts, necessarily exaggerated versions of reality.’19 Adair agrees, saying that the film is ‘a semi-fictionalised film at that, for The Apple is not a documentary.’20 Makhmalbaf may not claim that the film is a documentary, but the film certainly stresses the point that it is based on a true story, albeit the director’s retelling of it through the ‘vocabulary of cinema’.
The reworking of history is evident in Todd Haynes’ Velvet Goldmine. The film reimagines the days of Glam Rock through queer-tinted glasses, interpreting the queer undertones and themes present in the movement and exaggerating them, altering the reality of the time into something of a fantasy. The film’s introduction announces to the audience that ‘Histories, like ancient ruins, are the fictions of empires’21, and the film’s reimagining of the 1970’s wholly upholds this suggestion. Velvet Goldmine explores the idea of images shaping queer culture and audiences, and Haynes uses reality to support an agenda, the history of the Glam Rock movement utilised to serve a function of queer wish fulfilment. DeAngelis states that Velvet Goldmine offered Haynes an opportunity to ‘queer the present, by reconstituting the notion of ‘reality’ itself through multiple juxtapositions of histories remembered, forgotten, and repressed’.22
History, reality, and narrative form are clearly inextricably linked, but their relationship is anything but clear cut. Narrative form is not a direct representation of reality but a subjective interpretation of it, and as much as it tries to struggle against that fact, it will always be the case.
Bibliography
Adair, Gilbert, “Cinema: The girl with the movie camera”, The Independent on Sunday, 27 December 1998
Austin, Thomas, “‘The most confusing tears’: home video, sex crime, and indeterminacy in Capturing the Friedmans”, Watching the World: Screen Documentary and Audiences, 2007
Becker, Snowden, “Capturing the Friedmans”, The Moving Image vol. 4 no. 1, Spring 2004, pp. 145-148
Danks, Adrian, “The House That Mohsen Built: The Films of Samira Makhmalbaf and Marzieh Meshkini”, Senses of Cinema, 2002;
Darznik, Jasmine, “Shining Rotten Apple, A horrific film that must be seen”, The Iranian, March 3 1999
DeAngelis, Michael, “The Characteristics of New Queer Filmmaking: Case Study—Todd Haynes” in Michele Aaron (ed.) New Queer Cinema: A Critical Reader, New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2004; pp. 41–52
Fairweather, Kathleen, “A Family Affair: Filmmaker Andrew Jarecki Discusses How He Captured ‘The Friedmans,’” International Documentary, July 2003.
Orgeron, Marsha, “Familial Pursuits, Editorial Acts: Documentaries after the Age of Home Video”, The Velvet Light Trap no. 60, Autumn 2007; pp. 47-62
Rich, B. Ruby, “Documentary Disciplines: An Introduction”, Cinema Journal vol. 46 no. 1, Autumn 2006; pp. 108-115
Wood, Jason, “A Quick Chat with Samira Makhmalbaf”, http://kamera.co.uk
Velvet Goldmine (US/UK, Todd Haynes, 1998)
The Apple (Iran, Samira Makhmalbaf, 1999)
Capturing The Friedmans (US, Andrew Jarecki, 2003)
Sunday, 17 May 2009
The 'outlaw couple film' and its place in genre
To what extent could the outlaw couple film be considered to constitute a genre with a recognisable body of narrative, thematic and stylistic conventions?
Study in terms of genre allow similarities and coherence across a body of texts to create more meaning than if we were studying a single text individually. By categorizing a film into a certain genre we allude to previous films belonging to that genre and denote some level of resemblance.
However, a genre is not only made up of the films within it and the conventions belonging to those films, there has to also be cultural assent on the subject, as Tudor says, ‘Genre is what we collectively believe it to be’.1
It is widely agreed upon that a genre is group of texts that all adhere to some, if not all, of a set of conventions, whether differing from each other in other respects. However, genre itself as a structure and the process that leads to genres being established is not so easily defined.
Historically, genres were thought of as evolving and transforming structures that could disappear as equally as new models could emerge. Later study of genre seemingly rejected these ideas as genres began to be studied in terms of continuity, disregarding innovative genres and focusing largely instead on genres that would support theories of permanence.2
Altman believes that this ‘concealment’ has been damaging to genre criticism, and discusses the process that leads to new genres emerging and evolving, and if successful, becoming established genres.
He agrees with Tudor’s argument that genre has to be culturally recognised and says that a genre becomes such when it is substantiated by an audience who ‘interpret films not as separate entities but according to generic expectations.’3
However, he argues that new ‘film cycles’ are instigated when studios or filmmakers unite new approaches or material with qualities imitated from previously profitable films. Of the number of film cycles that are initiated, the few that are successful, will after time, be substantiated as genres.4
This idea of genre as a process is illustrated, he maintains, by the ‘sliding of generic terms from adjective to noun’.5 His example is the Western, now a widely acknowledged term for a particular genre but once a describing adjective that preceded words such as ‘romance’, ‘epic’ or ‘chase film’ to describe other films. Although ‘Outlaw Couple’ as a term for a genre is certainly not a recognisable a generic label as the Western, if we study the development of the Outlaw Couple film in terms of Altman’s ‘cycle to genre’ theory, it becomes apparent that we can arguably refer to it as a genre.
As Altman explained, the cycle initiated will imitate characteristics present in previously successful films, and the Outlaw Couple film certainly does so, borrowing elements such as visual style and narrative devices from a multitude of influences. The visual style of early Outlaw Couple films was a clear continuation of the low-key, sensual style present in the film
noir of the time, with two of the first films we can refer to as ‘Outlaw Couple movies’, Gun Crazy and They Live By Night, being seen as noir films.6 The mise-en-scene of film noir is ‘despair, generated out of entrapment..’7, and the Outlaw Couple film is very much one about characters trying to escape entrapment.
The Outlaw Couple film is a division of the ‘Road movie’, a genre which has its roots in stories of epic journeys and heroic quests, and the Outlaw Couple film subverts this, making the stories they tell more character orientated 8, but ironically often with a less obvious aim or goal, the journeys often acting as an ironic metaphor for our characters’ lack of prospects – all they can do is drive.
Noted also has been the influence of Gangster films and Westerns on the Outlaw Couple film, the fleeing the law, violence and crime prevalent in these genres certainly evident, as well as the mise-en-scene of Westerns being recognisable within the films. Kolker argues that ‘whether by accident or not, Bonnie and Clyde opened up the minor country thieves variation of the gangster film into a fully fledged genre of its own.’9
Laderman also notes that the cinematography recalls John Ford, the ‘vast, formally composed landscapes which contribute greatly to the sense of liberation for this outlaw couple on the road.’10
So, it is apparent that the Outlaw Couple film certainly fulfils Altman’s ‘first step’ of initiating a new genre, by imitating already existing conventions and filmic qualities while subverting and combining them to produce something new. Neale also supports this theory of ‘genre as a process’, saying that ‘individual genres not only form part of a generic regime, but also themselves change, develop, and vary by borrowing from, and overlapping with, one another.’11
To become a genre though, this is not enough. The body of films must become substantiated as a genre, spawning new incarnations of itself and becoming part of the litany of genres emerging films borrow from. Arguably the Outlaw Couple film did this, and by looking at the history and filmography of the genre, it becomes clear how quickly conventions were established and the category emerged as a standalone genre.
Although They Live By Night is Bonnie and Clyde’s predecessor and often seen as the prototype for Outlaw Couple films, Bonnie and Clyde is the film which truly shaped the genre, its influence seen in every following Outlaw Couple film, and throughout subsequent Hollywood cinema as a whole.
Badlands, a later Outlaw Couple film, Kinder argues is so intensely influenced by Bonnie and Clyde12 it supports the idea that filmmakers seeing the potential for a new genre, began to
imitate qualities they saw in previous Outlaw Couple films, in turn creating and reinforcing the conventions of the genre. On a larger scale, Scott writes that Bonnie and Clyde has been cited as a major influence in such ‘disparate films as The Wild Bunch, The Godfather, Reservoir Dogs and The Departed’.13
This level of influence surely belongs to a film which is part of a substantiated, and well respected genre. The conventions established back then are still noticeable in more recent films which arguably belong also to the Outlaw Couple film, proving that although the films are perhaps not as abundant as they once were, the genre is still alive and thriving. Natural Born Killers, a 1994 film by Oliver Stone, is an example of a more recent film which is clearly part of the Outlaw Couple genre, with Stone even citing Bonnie and Clyde as his main influence.14 We can also see the influence of another Outlaw Couple film; our ‘couple on the run’ in Natural Born Killers, Mickey and Mallory, ‘escape’ their everyday lives after Mickey murders Mallory’s father, ‘rescuing’ her, and this bears a similarity to the plot of Badlands, in which Kit murders Holly’s father who disagreed with their relationship, before the couple go on the run.
Although there are admittedly a small number of films within the genre compared to larger generic structures such as Western, Musical, or ‘Rom-Com’, many critics still describe the group of films as belonging to an ‘Outlaw’ genre, or at least sub-genre. In an article discussing Badlands, King writes that ‘although the period of this film is recent, it works in an established “outlaw” mode made familiar by Arthur Penn and Sam Peckinpah.’ 15 Belton asserts that ‘Gun Crazy, like Lang’s You Only Live Once, They Live By Night, Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde, Malick’s Badlands and Altman’s Thieves Like Us, belongs to a sub-genre or the gangster cycle known as the “outlaw couple” film.’16 If Natural Born Killers had been made at the time Belton was writing, he arguably would have also included it in the list.
So, it is apparent that film critics believe that the Outlaw Couple film constitutes a genre. But labelling it as such assigns to it generic requirements; these being that it has a recognisable body of narrative, thematic and stylistic conventions, and it is the fulfilment of these that will determine whether the Outlaw Couple can justly be considered as a genre.
The narrative and thematic conventions of the films previously discussed follow an obvious pattern, with heterosexual couples escaping mundane lives, dissatisfaction or even prison to go on the road together, a metaphor for people outside of society rebelling against it, desiring something different than the ‘norm’. Our couples inevitably end up being the perpetrators of violence, some more willingly than others, the journeys often seeming aimless and doomed, until one or both of our outlaws are killed. The resolution almost always sees our characters inevitably punished by the society they were attempting to rebel against, the message not a particularly hopeful one for non-conformity. Showing an evolution of the genre, later Outlaw Couple films subverted elements of these narrative and thematic conventions to provide a fresh take on the genre; for example, in Natural Born Killers, our murdering couple who are arguably more evil than any previous outlaw couple, are not captured and killed, but escape, to carry on driving across the country indefinitely and even have a family, achieving the freedom previous outlaw couples have searched for but not obtained. In Thelma and Louise and The Living End, the heterosexual couple element is subverted, our couples being heterosexual female friends and a homosexual male couple, respectively. These original angles provide innovative takes on the Outlaw Couple genre, proving also that it as a genre was established enough for filmmakers to subvert, into the hybrid ‘queer road movie’. Grundmann comments that The Living End’s ‘outlaw component is fairly straightforward even as it receives a queer activist spin’17, and Sturken write that ‘Thelma and Louise can be seen as playing off the outlaw genre’s conventions’18, both films clearly a continuation of the genre.
The stylistic conventions within the Outlaw Couple genre are as recognisable as the narrative and thematic conventions just discussed: the shadowy, noir-ish cinematography - characters faces being darkened or in shadow as they speak, the bleak, Ford-esque landscapes and wildernesses, contrasted with the inevitable urban settings they must enter to steal their money - banks or factories, the visual elements borrowed from the mise-en-scene of Westerns. The ‘guns, cash and car chase’ feel of the films directly recall Westerns, and this is as recognisable stylistically as thematically. As Simmons says, ‘the visual elements of the Western find their way in.. most frequently this occurs in the form of Western Garb.. in Bonnie and Clyde Ranger Frank Hamer is dressed in a Stetson and cowboy boots.’19
The Outlaw Couple genre is unquestionably an established one with conventions that is now reincarnated and re-imagined throughout film. Although it is debatable that the genre is not as stable or renowned a genre as some previously mentioned, for example Musical or Comedy, that is arguably because these are broad terms that can cover a multitude of disparate sub-genres. The Outlaw Couple genre is much more specific, this perhaps meaning that it offers less scope, but also meaning that its conventions are far more distinguishable and precise. Although the Outlaw Couple film could be said to have limitations, it certainly constitutes a genre, and one that has an incredibly important and influential place in film history.
Bibliography
Altman, Rick, “Are Genres Stable?”, Film/Genre, London: BFI, 1999; pp. 49-68
Belton, John, “The Spatial Disorientations of Gun Crazy”, Cinema Stylists, Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1983; pp. 197-204
Biskind, Peter, “They Live By Night by Daylight”, Sight & Sound vol. 45 no. 4, Autumn 1976; pp. 218-22
Grundmann, Roy, “The Fantasies We Live By: Bad Boys in Swoon and The Living End”, Cineaste, 4, 1993; pp. 25-29
Kinder, Marsha, “The Return of the Outlaw Couple”, Film Quarterly vol. 27 no. 4, Summer 1974; pp. 2-10
King, Michael, “Badlands: Shoot first”, Jump Cut, no. 1, 1974; pp. 5-6
Kolker, Robert Philip, “Night To Day”, Sight & Sound, vol. 43 no. 4, Autumn 1974; pp. 226-239
Laderman, David, “Drifting On Empty”, Driving Visions: Exploring the Road Movie, Austin:
University of Texas Press, 2002; pp. 122-123
Neale, Steve, “Questions of Genre”, Film Genre Reader 2, ed. Barry Keith Grant, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995; pp. 159-183
Scott, A. O, “Two Outlaws, Blasting Holes in the Screen”, New York Times, December 8, 2007
Simmons, Garner, “The Generic Origins of the Bandit-Gangster Sub-Genre in the American Cinema”, Film Reader no. 3, February 1978; pp. 67-79
Sturken, Marita, Thelma & Louise, London: BFI, 2000; pp. 22-32
Tudor, Andrew, “Genre”, Film Genre Reader 2, ed. Barry Keith Grant, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995; pp. 3 -10
Badlands (US, Terence Malick, 1973)
Bonnie and Clyde (US, Arthur Penn, 1967)
Gun Crazy (US, Joseph H. Lewis, 1947)
The Living End (US, Gregg Araki, 1990)
Natural Born Killers (US, Oliver Stone, 1994)
Thelma and Louise (US, Ridley Scott, 1991)
They Live By Night (US, Nicholas Ray, 1949)
Thieves Like Us (US, Robert Altman, 1974)
You Only Live Once (US, Fritz Lang, 1937)
Study in terms of genre allow similarities and coherence across a body of texts to create more meaning than if we were studying a single text individually. By categorizing a film into a certain genre we allude to previous films belonging to that genre and denote some level of resemblance.
However, a genre is not only made up of the films within it and the conventions belonging to those films, there has to also be cultural assent on the subject, as Tudor says, ‘Genre is what we collectively believe it to be’.1
It is widely agreed upon that a genre is group of texts that all adhere to some, if not all, of a set of conventions, whether differing from each other in other respects. However, genre itself as a structure and the process that leads to genres being established is not so easily defined.
Historically, genres were thought of as evolving and transforming structures that could disappear as equally as new models could emerge. Later study of genre seemingly rejected these ideas as genres began to be studied in terms of continuity, disregarding innovative genres and focusing largely instead on genres that would support theories of permanence.2
Altman believes that this ‘concealment’ has been damaging to genre criticism, and discusses the process that leads to new genres emerging and evolving, and if successful, becoming established genres.
He agrees with Tudor’s argument that genre has to be culturally recognised and says that a genre becomes such when it is substantiated by an audience who ‘interpret films not as separate entities but according to generic expectations.’3
However, he argues that new ‘film cycles’ are instigated when studios or filmmakers unite new approaches or material with qualities imitated from previously profitable films. Of the number of film cycles that are initiated, the few that are successful, will after time, be substantiated as genres.4
This idea of genre as a process is illustrated, he maintains, by the ‘sliding of generic terms from adjective to noun’.5 His example is the Western, now a widely acknowledged term for a particular genre but once a describing adjective that preceded words such as ‘romance’, ‘epic’ or ‘chase film’ to describe other films. Although ‘Outlaw Couple’ as a term for a genre is certainly not a recognisable a generic label as the Western, if we study the development of the Outlaw Couple film in terms of Altman’s ‘cycle to genre’ theory, it becomes apparent that we can arguably refer to it as a genre.
As Altman explained, the cycle initiated will imitate characteristics present in previously successful films, and the Outlaw Couple film certainly does so, borrowing elements such as visual style and narrative devices from a multitude of influences. The visual style of early Outlaw Couple films was a clear continuation of the low-key, sensual style present in the film
noir of the time, with two of the first films we can refer to as ‘Outlaw Couple movies’, Gun Crazy and They Live By Night, being seen as noir films.6 The mise-en-scene of film noir is ‘despair, generated out of entrapment..’7, and the Outlaw Couple film is very much one about characters trying to escape entrapment.
The Outlaw Couple film is a division of the ‘Road movie’, a genre which has its roots in stories of epic journeys and heroic quests, and the Outlaw Couple film subverts this, making the stories they tell more character orientated 8, but ironically often with a less obvious aim or goal, the journeys often acting as an ironic metaphor for our characters’ lack of prospects – all they can do is drive.
Noted also has been the influence of Gangster films and Westerns on the Outlaw Couple film, the fleeing the law, violence and crime prevalent in these genres certainly evident, as well as the mise-en-scene of Westerns being recognisable within the films. Kolker argues that ‘whether by accident or not, Bonnie and Clyde opened up the minor country thieves variation of the gangster film into a fully fledged genre of its own.’9
Laderman also notes that the cinematography recalls John Ford, the ‘vast, formally composed landscapes which contribute greatly to the sense of liberation for this outlaw couple on the road.’10
So, it is apparent that the Outlaw Couple film certainly fulfils Altman’s ‘first step’ of initiating a new genre, by imitating already existing conventions and filmic qualities while subverting and combining them to produce something new. Neale also supports this theory of ‘genre as a process’, saying that ‘individual genres not only form part of a generic regime, but also themselves change, develop, and vary by borrowing from, and overlapping with, one another.’11
To become a genre though, this is not enough. The body of films must become substantiated as a genre, spawning new incarnations of itself and becoming part of the litany of genres emerging films borrow from. Arguably the Outlaw Couple film did this, and by looking at the history and filmography of the genre, it becomes clear how quickly conventions were established and the category emerged as a standalone genre.
Although They Live By Night is Bonnie and Clyde’s predecessor and often seen as the prototype for Outlaw Couple films, Bonnie and Clyde is the film which truly shaped the genre, its influence seen in every following Outlaw Couple film, and throughout subsequent Hollywood cinema as a whole.
Badlands, a later Outlaw Couple film, Kinder argues is so intensely influenced by Bonnie and Clyde12 it supports the idea that filmmakers seeing the potential for a new genre, began to
imitate qualities they saw in previous Outlaw Couple films, in turn creating and reinforcing the conventions of the genre. On a larger scale, Scott writes that Bonnie and Clyde has been cited as a major influence in such ‘disparate films as The Wild Bunch, The Godfather, Reservoir Dogs and The Departed’.13
This level of influence surely belongs to a film which is part of a substantiated, and well respected genre. The conventions established back then are still noticeable in more recent films which arguably belong also to the Outlaw Couple film, proving that although the films are perhaps not as abundant as they once were, the genre is still alive and thriving. Natural Born Killers, a 1994 film by Oliver Stone, is an example of a more recent film which is clearly part of the Outlaw Couple genre, with Stone even citing Bonnie and Clyde as his main influence.14 We can also see the influence of another Outlaw Couple film; our ‘couple on the run’ in Natural Born Killers, Mickey and Mallory, ‘escape’ their everyday lives after Mickey murders Mallory’s father, ‘rescuing’ her, and this bears a similarity to the plot of Badlands, in which Kit murders Holly’s father who disagreed with their relationship, before the couple go on the run.
Although there are admittedly a small number of films within the genre compared to larger generic structures such as Western, Musical, or ‘Rom-Com’, many critics still describe the group of films as belonging to an ‘Outlaw’ genre, or at least sub-genre. In an article discussing Badlands, King writes that ‘although the period of this film is recent, it works in an established “outlaw” mode made familiar by Arthur Penn and Sam Peckinpah.’ 15 Belton asserts that ‘Gun Crazy, like Lang’s You Only Live Once, They Live By Night, Penn’s Bonnie and Clyde, Malick’s Badlands and Altman’s Thieves Like Us, belongs to a sub-genre or the gangster cycle known as the “outlaw couple” film.’16 If Natural Born Killers had been made at the time Belton was writing, he arguably would have also included it in the list.
So, it is apparent that film critics believe that the Outlaw Couple film constitutes a genre. But labelling it as such assigns to it generic requirements; these being that it has a recognisable body of narrative, thematic and stylistic conventions, and it is the fulfilment of these that will determine whether the Outlaw Couple can justly be considered as a genre.
The narrative and thematic conventions of the films previously discussed follow an obvious pattern, with heterosexual couples escaping mundane lives, dissatisfaction or even prison to go on the road together, a metaphor for people outside of society rebelling against it, desiring something different than the ‘norm’. Our couples inevitably end up being the perpetrators of violence, some more willingly than others, the journeys often seeming aimless and doomed, until one or both of our outlaws are killed. The resolution almost always sees our characters inevitably punished by the society they were attempting to rebel against, the message not a particularly hopeful one for non-conformity. Showing an evolution of the genre, later Outlaw Couple films subverted elements of these narrative and thematic conventions to provide a fresh take on the genre; for example, in Natural Born Killers, our murdering couple who are arguably more evil than any previous outlaw couple, are not captured and killed, but escape, to carry on driving across the country indefinitely and even have a family, achieving the freedom previous outlaw couples have searched for but not obtained. In Thelma and Louise and The Living End, the heterosexual couple element is subverted, our couples being heterosexual female friends and a homosexual male couple, respectively. These original angles provide innovative takes on the Outlaw Couple genre, proving also that it as a genre was established enough for filmmakers to subvert, into the hybrid ‘queer road movie’. Grundmann comments that The Living End’s ‘outlaw component is fairly straightforward even as it receives a queer activist spin’17, and Sturken write that ‘Thelma and Louise can be seen as playing off the outlaw genre’s conventions’18, both films clearly a continuation of the genre.
The stylistic conventions within the Outlaw Couple genre are as recognisable as the narrative and thematic conventions just discussed: the shadowy, noir-ish cinematography - characters faces being darkened or in shadow as they speak, the bleak, Ford-esque landscapes and wildernesses, contrasted with the inevitable urban settings they must enter to steal their money - banks or factories, the visual elements borrowed from the mise-en-scene of Westerns. The ‘guns, cash and car chase’ feel of the films directly recall Westerns, and this is as recognisable stylistically as thematically. As Simmons says, ‘the visual elements of the Western find their way in.. most frequently this occurs in the form of Western Garb.. in Bonnie and Clyde Ranger Frank Hamer is dressed in a Stetson and cowboy boots.’19
The Outlaw Couple genre is unquestionably an established one with conventions that is now reincarnated and re-imagined throughout film. Although it is debatable that the genre is not as stable or renowned a genre as some previously mentioned, for example Musical or Comedy, that is arguably because these are broad terms that can cover a multitude of disparate sub-genres. The Outlaw Couple genre is much more specific, this perhaps meaning that it offers less scope, but also meaning that its conventions are far more distinguishable and precise. Although the Outlaw Couple film could be said to have limitations, it certainly constitutes a genre, and one that has an incredibly important and influential place in film history.
Bibliography
Altman, Rick, “Are Genres Stable?”, Film/Genre, London: BFI, 1999; pp. 49-68
Belton, John, “The Spatial Disorientations of Gun Crazy”, Cinema Stylists, Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1983; pp. 197-204
Biskind, Peter, “They Live By Night by Daylight”, Sight & Sound vol. 45 no. 4, Autumn 1976; pp. 218-22
Grundmann, Roy, “The Fantasies We Live By: Bad Boys in Swoon and The Living End”, Cineaste, 4, 1993; pp. 25-29
Kinder, Marsha, “The Return of the Outlaw Couple”, Film Quarterly vol. 27 no. 4, Summer 1974; pp. 2-10
King, Michael, “Badlands: Shoot first”, Jump Cut, no. 1, 1974; pp. 5-6
Kolker, Robert Philip, “Night To Day”, Sight & Sound, vol. 43 no. 4, Autumn 1974; pp. 226-239
Laderman, David, “Drifting On Empty”, Driving Visions: Exploring the Road Movie, Austin:
University of Texas Press, 2002; pp. 122-123
Neale, Steve, “Questions of Genre”, Film Genre Reader 2, ed. Barry Keith Grant, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995; pp. 159-183
Scott, A. O, “Two Outlaws, Blasting Holes in the Screen”, New York Times, December 8, 2007
Simmons, Garner, “The Generic Origins of the Bandit-Gangster Sub-Genre in the American Cinema”, Film Reader no. 3, February 1978; pp. 67-79
Sturken, Marita, Thelma & Louise, London: BFI, 2000; pp. 22-32
Tudor, Andrew, “Genre”, Film Genre Reader 2, ed. Barry Keith Grant, Austin: University of Texas Press, 1995; pp. 3 -10
Badlands (US, Terence Malick, 1973)
Bonnie and Clyde (US, Arthur Penn, 1967)
Gun Crazy (US, Joseph H. Lewis, 1947)
The Living End (US, Gregg Araki, 1990)
Natural Born Killers (US, Oliver Stone, 1994)
Thelma and Louise (US, Ridley Scott, 1991)
They Live By Night (US, Nicholas Ray, 1949)
Thieves Like Us (US, Robert Altman, 1974)
You Only Live Once (US, Fritz Lang, 1937)
Monday, 16 March 2009
À Bout de Souffle and Felicia’s Journey in relation to Auteur and Genre Cinema
À Bout de Souffle is extremely appropriate to study in relation to auteur theory, as the term emerged with the French Nouvelle Vague and is most frequently associated with the New Wave directors.
These directors used auteur theory as a justification for their highly personal films which they wanted audiences and critics to view as individual, unconforming, unique works that were a break with the cinéma de qualité they so despised.
We could argue that auteur theory lets us define meaning more obviously, because by approaching a film with the belief it has a solitary author, we can understand the piece on a more complete and intense level.
However, as Foucault established, an author’s name has a classificatory status, under which we can group their works, having the same function as genre. This function gives us the ability to group together films and study them as a whole, to understand the seperate parts more fully.
The function of an authors name can sometimes even encompass films that are not by that director, if they display qualities that make them appear reminiscent of that director.
For example, ‘Hitchcockian’ is now a legitimate term used to describe later films that echo Hitchcock’s style or conform to the conventions he invented, as an auteur he is so respected it seems he has transcended this to make ‘Hitchcockian’ films a genre in their own right.
Although the French New Wave directors disliked the homogenity of the cinéma de qualité and standard narrative Hollywood cinema, there were some American directors they respected, who they believed showed artistic individuality, Hitchcock being one of these, and John Ford and Nicholas Ray being other examples.
Godard makes numerous references to other films in À Bout de Souffle, Michel gazes at a film poster of Humphrey Bogart and says “Bogie”, his lip-rubbing is also a homage to Bogart, and Patricia also comments on Michel’s similarity to him.
These self-aware references to American cinema acknowledge an influence, although perhaps they are a criticism of French cinema being too heavily influenced by American cinema, the betrayal of the French man modelling himself on an American, by the American girlfriend, is a quite obvious metaphor.
It could also be argued that the film also makes a tongue in cheek reference to the idea that the ‘old’ cinema is betraying the new, the youthful and the innovative when a woman attempts to sell Michel a copy of Cahiers, saying "Monsieur, do you support youth?" To which, annoyed, he replies "No, I prefer the old."
At the time, À Bout de Souffle was an innovative film, disregarding the cinematic language of Hollywood by replacing continuity editing and shot-reverse-shot with jump cuts and an individual visual style, giving itself a more abstract, less obvious, less explained feel. The film contained longer scenes than were conventional in mainstream hollywood cinema, for example the long sequence between Patricia and Michel in the bedroom.
However, despite the New Wave directors’ desire to produce unique, unconforming films, conventions are evident within them. Godard liked using foreign actresses like Anna Karina and Jean Seburg who were often hard to understand, and although this disregarded the importance of the script that was seen in earlier films who depended on book adaptions and theatrical stories, this became a convention in its own right. Perhaps one of the most predominant conventions is that the New Wave cinema generically revolves around a heterosexual young couple, the films were concerned with the relationships between young men and women, and À Bout de Souffle conforms to this.
The cinema of the New Wave also seemed more everyday, Godard said ‘we must begin with what we know’ - directors wanted to achieve more realism than was present in the current cinema and this is reflected in the documentary-like appearance of the Nouvelle Vague. This factor as well as others created or became generic conventions, which New Wave films, and À Bout de Souffle specifically, conform to.
Like other New Wave directors Godard opposed the suggestion he belonged to a wave or school of filmmaking, preferring his work to be seen as a personal expression of himself. However despite this, and despite his film’s individual differences, Godard’s work is seen as part of a group of films, with the work of Truffaut and Resnais, and like genre, this may mean that we can extract more meaning when analsing them as part of a collective.
Hitchcock as a director is a good example of how closely auteur and genre theory are linked, and as previously mentioned, the term ‘Hitchcockian’ is used to describe films with similar styles or themes to those of Hitchcock’s films.
Felicia’s Journey is arguably Hitchcockian, and elements present that would be considered Hitchcockian include; the presence of a domineering mother in her son’s life, (similar to Psycho), tension escalating through suspense to a point where the main character’s life is threatened, characters escaping from situations by using cunning and wit rather than violence, and the use of staircases to create suspense or metaphors for impending danger.
Although Gala is dead, we feel her presense very strongly influencing Hilditch in his actions even as an old man. He is obsessed with his mother and keeps her alive through his collection of all her products, and videos, and by watching her and talking to her as he cooks and eats. This is similar to the way Norman Bates keeps his mother alive in Psycho by pretending to be her, and as the camera explores through Hilditch’s house and we see his controlling mother preserved, we are inclined to see him as another Bates.
However, the apparent traumatic childhood of Hilditch that is such a generic convention of the serial killer horror is bizarre, Hilditch clearly views it as traumatic by the way he relives his memories, for example the force-feeding of the liver, and the way he vomits when later tasting liver, but for us as an audience it is disputable whether this really constitutes trauma.
However it is certain that the film intends to conform to the ‘traumatic childhood’ convention, and in conforming to both Hitchcockian conventions and ‘serial killer horror’ conventions it shows how closely auteurism and genre are linked, showing how the conventions of a successful auteur are imitated, becoming part of genres and trangressing auteurism to become something more all-encompassing. This illustrates the idea that we make our representations of a genre from auteurs who are successful within that specific genre, proving that the two are inextricably linked.
The second Hitchcockian convention mentioned, of tension building to a point where the main character’s life is threatened, which they then escape through using their wits, is certainly present in the end sequence where Felicia is drugged in bed and Hilditch reveals his crimes before she falls asleep, we then watch as she slowly wakes, as Hilditch digs her grave and is detained in garden, but eventually returns to the house. This scene builds tension in a manner very reminiscent of the ‘master of suspense’.
There is also a nod to Hitchcock’s film Suspicion in Felicia’s Journey, the scene on the stairs with the drugged drink is a homage to an almost identical scene in the former, and this self-concious allusion by the director Egoyan is a tongue in cheek reference to generic conventions and the influence of Hitchcock.
Felicia’s Journey certainly subscribes to gothic conventions present in similar ‘Beauty and the Beast’ type films, a killer murdering women who’s secret is finally uncovered by a ‘final girl’ who is resourceful enough to survive and relatively chaste compared to previous victims.
Influences from other films are also apparent, the images of ‘the other woman’ and the locked space are also generic gothic conventions used in other films such as Rebecca, and the videoing of his victims by Hilditch is similar to that which happens in Peeping Tom.
Victims in horror films are often sexually active, it could be argued this is to communicate the ideology that pre-marital sex is ‘bad’ and will doom you, and we see this in Felicia’s Journey as well as countless other horror films, for example Scream, where this idea is parodied dramatically.
Felicia’s Journey conforms to the generic syntagmatic combination of a horror narrative: traumatic childhood of killer revealed, group of young people introduced, severel members of which are violently killed on screen, until one girl remains who is pursued but ultimately escapes, the killer disappearing (leaving the story open for sequels) or is killed (although admittedly, this hasn’t always stopped sequels being produced either.)
However, ultimately the film also subverts genre, unusually mixing a love story with a suspense thriller/horror. In Felicia’s Journey the protagonist Felicia has her own aim, to find Johnny, ultimately ending her emotional journey in a place of fulfillment and contentedness at least, if not yet happiness.
Felicia’s Journey illustrates how the techniques of an auteur can evolve into generic conventions, how genres evolve by conventions being imitated but also subverted, resulting in the creation of new conventions and new genres, and both Felicia’s Journey and À Bout de Souffle demonstrate the close relationship between auteurism and genre theory.
These directors used auteur theory as a justification for their highly personal films which they wanted audiences and critics to view as individual, unconforming, unique works that were a break with the cinéma de qualité they so despised.
We could argue that auteur theory lets us define meaning more obviously, because by approaching a film with the belief it has a solitary author, we can understand the piece on a more complete and intense level.
However, as Foucault established, an author’s name has a classificatory status, under which we can group their works, having the same function as genre. This function gives us the ability to group together films and study them as a whole, to understand the seperate parts more fully.
The function of an authors name can sometimes even encompass films that are not by that director, if they display qualities that make them appear reminiscent of that director.
For example, ‘Hitchcockian’ is now a legitimate term used to describe later films that echo Hitchcock’s style or conform to the conventions he invented, as an auteur he is so respected it seems he has transcended this to make ‘Hitchcockian’ films a genre in their own right.
Although the French New Wave directors disliked the homogenity of the cinéma de qualité and standard narrative Hollywood cinema, there were some American directors they respected, who they believed showed artistic individuality, Hitchcock being one of these, and John Ford and Nicholas Ray being other examples.
Godard makes numerous references to other films in À Bout de Souffle, Michel gazes at a film poster of Humphrey Bogart and says “Bogie”, his lip-rubbing is also a homage to Bogart, and Patricia also comments on Michel’s similarity to him.
These self-aware references to American cinema acknowledge an influence, although perhaps they are a criticism of French cinema being too heavily influenced by American cinema, the betrayal of the French man modelling himself on an American, by the American girlfriend, is a quite obvious metaphor.
It could also be argued that the film also makes a tongue in cheek reference to the idea that the ‘old’ cinema is betraying the new, the youthful and the innovative when a woman attempts to sell Michel a copy of Cahiers, saying "Monsieur, do you support youth?" To which, annoyed, he replies "No, I prefer the old."
At the time, À Bout de Souffle was an innovative film, disregarding the cinematic language of Hollywood by replacing continuity editing and shot-reverse-shot with jump cuts and an individual visual style, giving itself a more abstract, less obvious, less explained feel. The film contained longer scenes than were conventional in mainstream hollywood cinema, for example the long sequence between Patricia and Michel in the bedroom.
However, despite the New Wave directors’ desire to produce unique, unconforming films, conventions are evident within them. Godard liked using foreign actresses like Anna Karina and Jean Seburg who were often hard to understand, and although this disregarded the importance of the script that was seen in earlier films who depended on book adaptions and theatrical stories, this became a convention in its own right. Perhaps one of the most predominant conventions is that the New Wave cinema generically revolves around a heterosexual young couple, the films were concerned with the relationships between young men and women, and À Bout de Souffle conforms to this.
The cinema of the New Wave also seemed more everyday, Godard said ‘we must begin with what we know’ - directors wanted to achieve more realism than was present in the current cinema and this is reflected in the documentary-like appearance of the Nouvelle Vague. This factor as well as others created or became generic conventions, which New Wave films, and À Bout de Souffle specifically, conform to.
Like other New Wave directors Godard opposed the suggestion he belonged to a wave or school of filmmaking, preferring his work to be seen as a personal expression of himself. However despite this, and despite his film’s individual differences, Godard’s work is seen as part of a group of films, with the work of Truffaut and Resnais, and like genre, this may mean that we can extract more meaning when analsing them as part of a collective.
Hitchcock as a director is a good example of how closely auteur and genre theory are linked, and as previously mentioned, the term ‘Hitchcockian’ is used to describe films with similar styles or themes to those of Hitchcock’s films.
Felicia’s Journey is arguably Hitchcockian, and elements present that would be considered Hitchcockian include; the presence of a domineering mother in her son’s life, (similar to Psycho), tension escalating through suspense to a point where the main character’s life is threatened, characters escaping from situations by using cunning and wit rather than violence, and the use of staircases to create suspense or metaphors for impending danger.
Although Gala is dead, we feel her presense very strongly influencing Hilditch in his actions even as an old man. He is obsessed with his mother and keeps her alive through his collection of all her products, and videos, and by watching her and talking to her as he cooks and eats. This is similar to the way Norman Bates keeps his mother alive in Psycho by pretending to be her, and as the camera explores through Hilditch’s house and we see his controlling mother preserved, we are inclined to see him as another Bates.
However, the apparent traumatic childhood of Hilditch that is such a generic convention of the serial killer horror is bizarre, Hilditch clearly views it as traumatic by the way he relives his memories, for example the force-feeding of the liver, and the way he vomits when later tasting liver, but for us as an audience it is disputable whether this really constitutes trauma.
However it is certain that the film intends to conform to the ‘traumatic childhood’ convention, and in conforming to both Hitchcockian conventions and ‘serial killer horror’ conventions it shows how closely auteurism and genre are linked, showing how the conventions of a successful auteur are imitated, becoming part of genres and trangressing auteurism to become something more all-encompassing. This illustrates the idea that we make our representations of a genre from auteurs who are successful within that specific genre, proving that the two are inextricably linked.
The second Hitchcockian convention mentioned, of tension building to a point where the main character’s life is threatened, which they then escape through using their wits, is certainly present in the end sequence where Felicia is drugged in bed and Hilditch reveals his crimes before she falls asleep, we then watch as she slowly wakes, as Hilditch digs her grave and is detained in garden, but eventually returns to the house. This scene builds tension in a manner very reminiscent of the ‘master of suspense’.
There is also a nod to Hitchcock’s film Suspicion in Felicia’s Journey, the scene on the stairs with the drugged drink is a homage to an almost identical scene in the former, and this self-concious allusion by the director Egoyan is a tongue in cheek reference to generic conventions and the influence of Hitchcock.
Felicia’s Journey certainly subscribes to gothic conventions present in similar ‘Beauty and the Beast’ type films, a killer murdering women who’s secret is finally uncovered by a ‘final girl’ who is resourceful enough to survive and relatively chaste compared to previous victims.
Influences from other films are also apparent, the images of ‘the other woman’ and the locked space are also generic gothic conventions used in other films such as Rebecca, and the videoing of his victims by Hilditch is similar to that which happens in Peeping Tom.
Victims in horror films are often sexually active, it could be argued this is to communicate the ideology that pre-marital sex is ‘bad’ and will doom you, and we see this in Felicia’s Journey as well as countless other horror films, for example Scream, where this idea is parodied dramatically.
Felicia’s Journey conforms to the generic syntagmatic combination of a horror narrative: traumatic childhood of killer revealed, group of young people introduced, severel members of which are violently killed on screen, until one girl remains who is pursued but ultimately escapes, the killer disappearing (leaving the story open for sequels) or is killed (although admittedly, this hasn’t always stopped sequels being produced either.)
However, ultimately the film also subverts genre, unusually mixing a love story with a suspense thriller/horror. In Felicia’s Journey the protagonist Felicia has her own aim, to find Johnny, ultimately ending her emotional journey in a place of fulfillment and contentedness at least, if not yet happiness.
Felicia’s Journey illustrates how the techniques of an auteur can evolve into generic conventions, how genres evolve by conventions being imitated but also subverted, resulting in the creation of new conventions and new genres, and both Felicia’s Journey and À Bout de Souffle demonstrate the close relationship between auteurism and genre theory.
Monday, 2 March 2009
A critical summary of Michael Foucault’s ‘What is an Author?’
Foucault begins by introducing the idea of an author as an individualisation within a field such as literature or philosophy. As the notion of an author quite obviously arose within literature originally, work on authorship focuses heavily on literature, and this is something that also features in work on genre. Because of this, it often means that it is harder to apply the theories to film.
However, Foucault believes that when studying theories of genre and other similar concepts, it becomes clear that they are of inferior quality, and not as useful as studying work through the lense of authorship. It could be argued that authorship lets us define meaning more clearly, because if we accept the author as the solitary producer of meaning within a work, perhaps we can define and understand the piece more completely. However, Foucault’s dismissal of genre theory disregards the importance of studying a piece within a group of similar works to understand how conventions create meaning.
Foucault seems to suggest that a works significance and meaning is made not from the subject matter, but by how it is communicated by the arrangement of elements that make up the work.
Something that could be criticised within some theories of authorship is the almost worshipful nature they apply to an author, as the ‘sole creator of meaning’, disregarding outside influences, unintentional meaning and for example, audience, as creators of meaning.
Foucault presents an interesting idea that could oppose this, suggesting that the writing of or creation of a piece of work is almost a sacrifice, a voluntary disappearance into your creation, the ‘death of the author’. He criticises a theory that attempts to support this idea, arguing that while it intends to displace the author, it in fact does the opposite, upholding it and suppressing the real reasons for an author’s literary ‘death’. This theory proposes we study a piece not through, or to understand, the work’s relationship with the author, but through analysing the work’s form and content. The issue with this theory is that, as Foucault reminds us, that to consider a piece of writing a ‘work’, we have to first have an author, otherwise would not every piece of writing be a work, and worthy of analysis? He then interestingly points out that even if we do consider someone an author, we can surely not believe that everything they wrote in their lives constitutes a ‘work’. This evidently means that when studying a work in the way the theory proposes, you must be aware of the context of the author, and Foucault states that it is inadequate to claim we should study the work and disregard the author. In these theories, however, surrounding the ‘death of an author’, he draws our attention to the importance of studying the space left behind, and the possibilities this presents, for example, the ‘birth’ of the audience, and the recognition of them as fundamental to finding significance within a work.
Foucault also raises the issues surrounding an author’s name, but although he explores these and the difficulties that arise, he does not fully resolve the issues, as he himself admits. The issues lie in what the name signifies, and Foucault explains that an author’s name is, like all other names, a description of the person, without just one signification but of endless meanings, resulting in it being unable to be turned into a singular reference. However, the issues raised by an author’s name are more complex that that of an ‘ordinary name’, they function as a representation of the author’s body of work. An author’s name, as Foucault puts it, has a role, performing a ‘classificatory function’. This name, in a manner similar to genre, creates the ability to group together a number of works and ‘define them, differentiate them from, and contrast them to others.’ Foucault’s well-expressed summary of the function a name has, can help us understand the idea of an author having a persona or being a symbol, rather than an ordinary individual.
He offers an example here of Hermes Trismegistus – he did not exist, but had a number of works placed under his name because of a sense of homogeneity throughout them, and this surely again has to be comparable to the ideas of genre that Foucault earlier dismissed.
Foucault also discusses ideas of ownership in relationship to works, and how this has developed through history. Before the seventeenth or eighteenth century, works with narratives, such as tragedies or comedies were accepted for their content and didn’t appear to ‘need’ an author, their apparent ancientness placing enough of a guarantee of quality upon them. Works of scientific content, dealing with subjects such as cosmology, geography and natural sciences were only accepted and seen to be accurate if they included their author’s name. Subsequently this seems to be reversed, with scientific discourses being accepted for their own merits, and with literary creation being dependant on the author function, anonymity becoming an enigma to decode, and audiences becoming desirous of an author for the work they experienced.
Foucault eloquently sums up the function of the author, stating that it is inextricably linked to the ‘universe of discourses’, although effecting said discourses differently depending on the civilisation in which they are present, and that the supposed ‘author’ does not have to refer to a individual but can refer to ‘several selves’.
Although the ‘death of an author’ and suppressing the privileged position of an author has been discussed, Foucault does not dismiss the importance of the author and presents the idea that they are not only the author of their own text but can exceed that with the possibilities they present. It appears apparent, then, that there are conflicting ideas within Foucault’s piece.
Foucault establishes the idea that to understand a text, the study of the relationship between itself and its author, or lack of, is necessary, and although he discusses opposing concepts and calls for a culture without the necessity of authorship, he admits himself that this is ‘pure romanticism.’ Foucault longs for the day when a work’s importance is governed by its content, not by who is speaking, and although he contemplates the moment that he believes will one day come, where the author function will disappear, his piece arguably does not dispel the need for one.
However, Foucault believes that when studying theories of genre and other similar concepts, it becomes clear that they are of inferior quality, and not as useful as studying work through the lense of authorship. It could be argued that authorship lets us define meaning more clearly, because if we accept the author as the solitary producer of meaning within a work, perhaps we can define and understand the piece more completely. However, Foucault’s dismissal of genre theory disregards the importance of studying a piece within a group of similar works to understand how conventions create meaning.
Foucault seems to suggest that a works significance and meaning is made not from the subject matter, but by how it is communicated by the arrangement of elements that make up the work.
Something that could be criticised within some theories of authorship is the almost worshipful nature they apply to an author, as the ‘sole creator of meaning’, disregarding outside influences, unintentional meaning and for example, audience, as creators of meaning.
Foucault presents an interesting idea that could oppose this, suggesting that the writing of or creation of a piece of work is almost a sacrifice, a voluntary disappearance into your creation, the ‘death of the author’. He criticises a theory that attempts to support this idea, arguing that while it intends to displace the author, it in fact does the opposite, upholding it and suppressing the real reasons for an author’s literary ‘death’. This theory proposes we study a piece not through, or to understand, the work’s relationship with the author, but through analysing the work’s form and content. The issue with this theory is that, as Foucault reminds us, that to consider a piece of writing a ‘work’, we have to first have an author, otherwise would not every piece of writing be a work, and worthy of analysis? He then interestingly points out that even if we do consider someone an author, we can surely not believe that everything they wrote in their lives constitutes a ‘work’. This evidently means that when studying a work in the way the theory proposes, you must be aware of the context of the author, and Foucault states that it is inadequate to claim we should study the work and disregard the author. In these theories, however, surrounding the ‘death of an author’, he draws our attention to the importance of studying the space left behind, and the possibilities this presents, for example, the ‘birth’ of the audience, and the recognition of them as fundamental to finding significance within a work.
Foucault also raises the issues surrounding an author’s name, but although he explores these and the difficulties that arise, he does not fully resolve the issues, as he himself admits. The issues lie in what the name signifies, and Foucault explains that an author’s name is, like all other names, a description of the person, without just one signification but of endless meanings, resulting in it being unable to be turned into a singular reference. However, the issues raised by an author’s name are more complex that that of an ‘ordinary name’, they function as a representation of the author’s body of work. An author’s name, as Foucault puts it, has a role, performing a ‘classificatory function’. This name, in a manner similar to genre, creates the ability to group together a number of works and ‘define them, differentiate them from, and contrast them to others.’ Foucault’s well-expressed summary of the function a name has, can help us understand the idea of an author having a persona or being a symbol, rather than an ordinary individual.
He offers an example here of Hermes Trismegistus – he did not exist, but had a number of works placed under his name because of a sense of homogeneity throughout them, and this surely again has to be comparable to the ideas of genre that Foucault earlier dismissed.
Foucault also discusses ideas of ownership in relationship to works, and how this has developed through history. Before the seventeenth or eighteenth century, works with narratives, such as tragedies or comedies were accepted for their content and didn’t appear to ‘need’ an author, their apparent ancientness placing enough of a guarantee of quality upon them. Works of scientific content, dealing with subjects such as cosmology, geography and natural sciences were only accepted and seen to be accurate if they included their author’s name. Subsequently this seems to be reversed, with scientific discourses being accepted for their own merits, and with literary creation being dependant on the author function, anonymity becoming an enigma to decode, and audiences becoming desirous of an author for the work they experienced.
Foucault eloquently sums up the function of the author, stating that it is inextricably linked to the ‘universe of discourses’, although effecting said discourses differently depending on the civilisation in which they are present, and that the supposed ‘author’ does not have to refer to a individual but can refer to ‘several selves’.
Although the ‘death of an author’ and suppressing the privileged position of an author has been discussed, Foucault does not dismiss the importance of the author and presents the idea that they are not only the author of their own text but can exceed that with the possibilities they present. It appears apparent, then, that there are conflicting ideas within Foucault’s piece.
Foucault establishes the idea that to understand a text, the study of the relationship between itself and its author, or lack of, is necessary, and although he discusses opposing concepts and calls for a culture without the necessity of authorship, he admits himself that this is ‘pure romanticism.’ Foucault longs for the day when a work’s importance is governed by its content, not by who is speaking, and although he contemplates the moment that he believes will one day come, where the author function will disappear, his piece arguably does not dispel the need for one.
Monday, 19 January 2009
How has the idea of realism been conceptualised and articulated by filmmakers?
Unlike the filmakers of the Surrealist movement, who rejected realism and attempted to transcend the real to reach a superior state, the Realists believed that the form of filmmaking that could best communicate their message was realism.
Whereas other cinema would offer its audience an escape, Realism made its viewers confront social issues unflinchingly.
It could be argued that early cinema first displayed Realism when documentary films of far off exotic locations were shown to audiences. Research has shown that before 1906 actuality films outnumbered fictional films (Gunning 1990, p. 56). However, unlike the films of Italian Neorealism and British Social Realism, the importance lay not in displaying their technology, and less in the realism of what was being shown.
The Neorealist movement was essentially a rebellion against the totalitarian control that was being exercised in Italy; film critics had a lack of creative control as they had been prevented from discussing politics in the Cinema magazine, as the editor was Vittorio Mussolini, son of Benito Mussolini.
It was felt by these critics that filmmakers should be look to the influences of realist writers, and to French poetic realism to create an alternative to the telefono bianco films that they despised, that would effectively convey their message and deal poetically with the social issues that were affecting them.
Neorealism is hard to define because there does not seem to be any unanimous assent on what it is; in fact it seems that a definition of Neorealism is not desired by the filmmakers and critics of the genre, who would like us to believe that Neorealism has rejected conventions. Bazin said that Neorealism was a cinema of ‘fact’ (Bondanella, p. 31), a bold statement.
Fellini remarked that ‘Neorealism is a way of seeing reality without prejudice, without conventions coming between it and myself – facing it without preconceptions, looking at it in an honest way – whatever reality is, not just social reality but all that there is within a man’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 32)
However, it could be argued that Fellini is being idealistic when he states that Neorealism is without conventions, and that .
Certainly Neorealism has general characteristics throughout its films that have been established through the movement’s conceptualisation of realism, the most striking being the subjects the films dealt with.
Because the films of Italian Neorealism all dealt with the topics of the war, the Resistance, poverty, unemployment, the Partisan struggle and social injustice, despite being admittedly actual problems, they could not help but become generic.
There is a contrast between what Fellini says and what Armes and Bazin and note – they admit that Neorealism is ‘a cinema quite involved with artifice and had established its own cinematic conventions’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 33)
If we consider this notion then we have to acknowledge that Neorealism could not help but become a genre, and in being that films that fell into this catergory had to conform, making it disputable whether they had achieved true realism.
However, this does not mean that Neorealists had not found an effective way of articulating the real through a mixture of traditional realism and artistic intention.
As Rossellini said himself, realism is ‘simply the artistic form of the truth.’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 32).
Ironically, it is through some of the conventions of Neorealism that its dedication to the real can be asserted. For example, the use of non-professional actors that was almost universal in Italian Neorealism meant that the films seemed to be less contrived and took an air of pretence that Hollywood films suffered from away. In De Sica’s The Bicycle Thief the two main characters of father and son were both non professionals, which in Peter Bondanella’s opinion resulted in their performances being that which could have not have been ‘surpassed by even the most experience of theatrical actors’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 56). André Bazin said of the film that it was the ‘only valid Communist film of the whole past decade’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 58).
The less obvious filmic techniques of Neorealism, for example long shots and unobtrusive editing, also lend themselves efficiently to the cause, by not distracting us with formal aesthetics the films achieved a documentary like feel, especially in the case of Rossellini’s Rome, Open City.
The rejection of traditional cinematic conventions through not only non-professional actors and documentary effects but also on-location shooting, social content, historical actuality, political commitment, and a respect for actual duration being reflected in the screen time all makes an effective argument for Neorealisms adherence to real life and opposition to the manipulation mainstream film encountered in the cutting room.
Despite this though, even in Rome, Open City the balance between realism and artistic interpretation is noticeable. Although unobtrusive editing and long shots are utilized, there are also sequences which remind its audience that they are watching a film.
For example, Rossellini cuts back and forth between Don Pietro’s search for the weapons and descent through the building and the fascist officer’s ascent through the same building, creating suspense and drawing our attention to the construction of the scene through the cinematic device used.
Rossellini creates a narrative incorporating fact and fiction, and the Italian Neorealists certainly didn’t deny the importance the artistic elements of their films, and it could be argued that it was their willingness to have fiction and fact, illusion and reality go hand in hand that made their films so effective.
Unlike the Hollywood mainstream films the Neorealists were attempting to provide an antidote to, their films didn’t conform to sterotypical narratives, being more realistic than to hope for ‘happy ever afters’.
However, a reoccurring theme through the films that seemed to signify hope and a better future for Italy was that of the children of the country, and this perhaps at least offered the prospect of a happy ending one day.
The impact of Italian Neorealism has been undeniable, not only in Italy but in films throughout the world and especially in French New Wave cinema.
British Social Realism was heavily influenced by both French New Wave and Italian Neorealism, and like the latter was partly developed out of a struggle to develop an authentic national cinema to combat the dominance of the Hollywood cinema industry. Therefore, like with Italian Neorealism, its filmmakers believed a movement away from the escapism of Hollywood towards realism with which marginalised and unrepresented masses could relate.
However, the distinction between escapism and realism is not so easily reduced to a distinction between ‘fact’ and ‘fiction’.
British New Wave has many characteristics, like Italian Neorealism, that make it possible for us to argue the realism of the movement. One would be the typage, the casting of non-professional actors who were physically appropriate for the roles, often with regional actors, had before this been quite unheard of in British cinema.
The use of townscape and lanscape shots in real locations, also seem to suggest they are telling real stories, in real historical locations.
However, the films of the movement were quite focused on the individual, which has led to some critics saying they cannot be representative of a larger struggle.
It could be argued though, that the relationships between the dominant community and our protagonists, often unlikeable ‘angry young men’, can be representing the masses plight on a personal, more humanistic level. Higson highlights how, in a contrast to the earlier films of a decade before where the police force itself is the centre of the community, in the later films, for example The Lonelieness of the Long Distance Runner the ‘petty criminal has become the hero, while the police and borstal staff, as the offical representatives or at least managers of the community, are constructed as threats to the integrity of the individual’ (Higson, 1986 p. 92). This could be construed as reflecting the social feeling at the time, a metaphor for the working class feeling that authority had given them no voice, and an alienation in both psychological and sociological terms.
Another trait present in British New Wave that I have also commented on regarding Italian Neorealism is the desire for a poetic cinema, a poetic realism that would translate their issues in an artistic way. Although British New Wave certainly developed from earlier documentary filmmaking, they sought to do things in a completely different, new cinematic language.
It could be argued that documentaries are the closest cinematic form of realism we can achieve.
Alan Lovell claimed that ‘the importance of the documentary lies not in the quality of individual films but in the impact it had in general on the British cinema’ (Lovell and Hillier 1972, p.35).
It could be argued that this has, as Andrew Higson puts it ‘produced a film culture which has been profoundly mistrustful of anything other that a particular de-dramatised naturalistic form: ‘style’ becomes something which gets in the way of the message of the film’ (Higson 1986, p. 76)
In the past prohibition against cinematic realism by those who felt it compromised their art form had thwarted the development of documentary film making.
The emergence of documentary filmmaking allowed audiences to view a world that had previously been off limits.
André Bazin, said that ‘The reality that the cinema produces at will and organizes is the same worldly reality of which we are a part.’ (Gaines 2007, p. 44)
He argued for ‘objective reality’ and ‘true continuity’ in documentaries, but can we ever really be objective?
A film-maker will always have a intention and no matter whether they try to show the world as it is, they will always do so subjectively by choosing what to show and what not to show, and so we have to be aware as an audience that a documentary that looks the same as the world before the camera has still been cut or produced out of material subject to other factors, such as a film-makers bias towards one side.
The reason it is important for us to realise this is because unlike when we watch a fictional film and are aware of a subjective filmmaker who has intent, we may accept documentaries at face value and base our views on the content we see and hear within them.
Documentary seeks to manipulate reality as means to an end, but reality is a moving target, and this may mean that documentary can never truely hold a mirror up to the world.
As much as the film maker may want the camera to show the importance of the everyday in a way which is merely observational, it could be argued that it cannot help but be analytical.
Radical film maker and author Danny Schecter expressed a concern that documentary realism could reinforce a policy you do not approve of, because subjects are left to speak uncoached, however Gaines believes that if we take a long enough view on everyday life ‘the truth will out’. (Gaines 2007, p. 51)
Gaines believes that a same world sensation is necessary and that we need to return to the form of documentary that uses the world to transform the world, which motivates people into doing something, similar to the Soviet tradition when cinema provoked revolutionary bodies.
Documentary making as Peter Wyeth and Don Mcpherson state, has ‘set the very terms in which film-making is thought about in Britain’ (Higson 1986, p. 73), and this is still evident in British cinema today. Gritty social realism is the identity our national cinema has, and some contemporary examples of this are Dirty Pretty Things and the films of Paul Greengrass.
In conclusion I would argue that realism has been conceptualised and articulated into countless forms by filmmakers that seek to replicate reality, but that we will never be able to ascertain which does so most effectively as reality itself is a subjective concept that can never be consistantly defined.
Bibliography
- Bondanella, Peter (1998) ‘The Masters of Neorealism: De Sica, Visconti and Rossellini’ in Italian Cinema from Neorealism to the Present, New York: Continuum
- Gaines, Jane M. (2007) ‘The Production of Outrage: the Radical Documentary Tradition’, The Journal of Cinema and Media 48.2 36-55
- Higson, Andrew (1986) ‘Britains Outstanding Contribution to the Film’: The Documentary-Realist Tradition in Charles Barr (ed) in All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years Of British Cinema, London: BFI
- Lovell, Alan and Hillier, Jim (1972) Studies in Documentary, London, Secker & Warburg/BFI, p. 35
Whereas other cinema would offer its audience an escape, Realism made its viewers confront social issues unflinchingly.
It could be argued that early cinema first displayed Realism when documentary films of far off exotic locations were shown to audiences. Research has shown that before 1906 actuality films outnumbered fictional films (Gunning 1990, p. 56). However, unlike the films of Italian Neorealism and British Social Realism, the importance lay not in displaying their technology, and less in the realism of what was being shown.
The Neorealist movement was essentially a rebellion against the totalitarian control that was being exercised in Italy; film critics had a lack of creative control as they had been prevented from discussing politics in the Cinema magazine, as the editor was Vittorio Mussolini, son of Benito Mussolini.
It was felt by these critics that filmmakers should be look to the influences of realist writers, and to French poetic realism to create an alternative to the telefono bianco films that they despised, that would effectively convey their message and deal poetically with the social issues that were affecting them.
Neorealism is hard to define because there does not seem to be any unanimous assent on what it is; in fact it seems that a definition of Neorealism is not desired by the filmmakers and critics of the genre, who would like us to believe that Neorealism has rejected conventions. Bazin said that Neorealism was a cinema of ‘fact’ (Bondanella, p. 31), a bold statement.
Fellini remarked that ‘Neorealism is a way of seeing reality without prejudice, without conventions coming between it and myself – facing it without preconceptions, looking at it in an honest way – whatever reality is, not just social reality but all that there is within a man’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 32)
However, it could be argued that Fellini is being idealistic when he states that Neorealism is without conventions, and that .
Certainly Neorealism has general characteristics throughout its films that have been established through the movement’s conceptualisation of realism, the most striking being the subjects the films dealt with.
Because the films of Italian Neorealism all dealt with the topics of the war, the Resistance, poverty, unemployment, the Partisan struggle and social injustice, despite being admittedly actual problems, they could not help but become generic.
There is a contrast between what Fellini says and what Armes and Bazin and note – they admit that Neorealism is ‘a cinema quite involved with artifice and had established its own cinematic conventions’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 33)
If we consider this notion then we have to acknowledge that Neorealism could not help but become a genre, and in being that films that fell into this catergory had to conform, making it disputable whether they had achieved true realism.
However, this does not mean that Neorealists had not found an effective way of articulating the real through a mixture of traditional realism and artistic intention.
As Rossellini said himself, realism is ‘simply the artistic form of the truth.’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 32).
Ironically, it is through some of the conventions of Neorealism that its dedication to the real can be asserted. For example, the use of non-professional actors that was almost universal in Italian Neorealism meant that the films seemed to be less contrived and took an air of pretence that Hollywood films suffered from away. In De Sica’s The Bicycle Thief the two main characters of father and son were both non professionals, which in Peter Bondanella’s opinion resulted in their performances being that which could have not have been ‘surpassed by even the most experience of theatrical actors’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 56). André Bazin said of the film that it was the ‘only valid Communist film of the whole past decade’ (Bondanella 1998, p. 58).
The less obvious filmic techniques of Neorealism, for example long shots and unobtrusive editing, also lend themselves efficiently to the cause, by not distracting us with formal aesthetics the films achieved a documentary like feel, especially in the case of Rossellini’s Rome, Open City.
The rejection of traditional cinematic conventions through not only non-professional actors and documentary effects but also on-location shooting, social content, historical actuality, political commitment, and a respect for actual duration being reflected in the screen time all makes an effective argument for Neorealisms adherence to real life and opposition to the manipulation mainstream film encountered in the cutting room.
Despite this though, even in Rome, Open City the balance between realism and artistic interpretation is noticeable. Although unobtrusive editing and long shots are utilized, there are also sequences which remind its audience that they are watching a film.
For example, Rossellini cuts back and forth between Don Pietro’s search for the weapons and descent through the building and the fascist officer’s ascent through the same building, creating suspense and drawing our attention to the construction of the scene through the cinematic device used.
Rossellini creates a narrative incorporating fact and fiction, and the Italian Neorealists certainly didn’t deny the importance the artistic elements of their films, and it could be argued that it was their willingness to have fiction and fact, illusion and reality go hand in hand that made their films so effective.
Unlike the Hollywood mainstream films the Neorealists were attempting to provide an antidote to, their films didn’t conform to sterotypical narratives, being more realistic than to hope for ‘happy ever afters’.
However, a reoccurring theme through the films that seemed to signify hope and a better future for Italy was that of the children of the country, and this perhaps at least offered the prospect of a happy ending one day.
The impact of Italian Neorealism has been undeniable, not only in Italy but in films throughout the world and especially in French New Wave cinema.
British Social Realism was heavily influenced by both French New Wave and Italian Neorealism, and like the latter was partly developed out of a struggle to develop an authentic national cinema to combat the dominance of the Hollywood cinema industry. Therefore, like with Italian Neorealism, its filmmakers believed a movement away from the escapism of Hollywood towards realism with which marginalised and unrepresented masses could relate.
However, the distinction between escapism and realism is not so easily reduced to a distinction between ‘fact’ and ‘fiction’.
British New Wave has many characteristics, like Italian Neorealism, that make it possible for us to argue the realism of the movement. One would be the typage, the casting of non-professional actors who were physically appropriate for the roles, often with regional actors, had before this been quite unheard of in British cinema.
The use of townscape and lanscape shots in real locations, also seem to suggest they are telling real stories, in real historical locations.
However, the films of the movement were quite focused on the individual, which has led to some critics saying they cannot be representative of a larger struggle.
It could be argued though, that the relationships between the dominant community and our protagonists, often unlikeable ‘angry young men’, can be representing the masses plight on a personal, more humanistic level. Higson highlights how, in a contrast to the earlier films of a decade before where the police force itself is the centre of the community, in the later films, for example The Lonelieness of the Long Distance Runner the ‘petty criminal has become the hero, while the police and borstal staff, as the offical representatives or at least managers of the community, are constructed as threats to the integrity of the individual’ (Higson, 1986 p. 92). This could be construed as reflecting the social feeling at the time, a metaphor for the working class feeling that authority had given them no voice, and an alienation in both psychological and sociological terms.
Another trait present in British New Wave that I have also commented on regarding Italian Neorealism is the desire for a poetic cinema, a poetic realism that would translate their issues in an artistic way. Although British New Wave certainly developed from earlier documentary filmmaking, they sought to do things in a completely different, new cinematic language.
It could be argued that documentaries are the closest cinematic form of realism we can achieve.
Alan Lovell claimed that ‘the importance of the documentary lies not in the quality of individual films but in the impact it had in general on the British cinema’ (Lovell and Hillier 1972, p.35).
It could be argued that this has, as Andrew Higson puts it ‘produced a film culture which has been profoundly mistrustful of anything other that a particular de-dramatised naturalistic form: ‘style’ becomes something which gets in the way of the message of the film’ (Higson 1986, p. 76)
In the past prohibition against cinematic realism by those who felt it compromised their art form had thwarted the development of documentary film making.
The emergence of documentary filmmaking allowed audiences to view a world that had previously been off limits.
André Bazin, said that ‘The reality that the cinema produces at will and organizes is the same worldly reality of which we are a part.’ (Gaines 2007, p. 44)
He argued for ‘objective reality’ and ‘true continuity’ in documentaries, but can we ever really be objective?
A film-maker will always have a intention and no matter whether they try to show the world as it is, they will always do so subjectively by choosing what to show and what not to show, and so we have to be aware as an audience that a documentary that looks the same as the world before the camera has still been cut or produced out of material subject to other factors, such as a film-makers bias towards one side.
The reason it is important for us to realise this is because unlike when we watch a fictional film and are aware of a subjective filmmaker who has intent, we may accept documentaries at face value and base our views on the content we see and hear within them.
Documentary seeks to manipulate reality as means to an end, but reality is a moving target, and this may mean that documentary can never truely hold a mirror up to the world.
As much as the film maker may want the camera to show the importance of the everyday in a way which is merely observational, it could be argued that it cannot help but be analytical.
Radical film maker and author Danny Schecter expressed a concern that documentary realism could reinforce a policy you do not approve of, because subjects are left to speak uncoached, however Gaines believes that if we take a long enough view on everyday life ‘the truth will out’. (Gaines 2007, p. 51)
Gaines believes that a same world sensation is necessary and that we need to return to the form of documentary that uses the world to transform the world, which motivates people into doing something, similar to the Soviet tradition when cinema provoked revolutionary bodies.
Documentary making as Peter Wyeth and Don Mcpherson state, has ‘set the very terms in which film-making is thought about in Britain’ (Higson 1986, p. 73), and this is still evident in British cinema today. Gritty social realism is the identity our national cinema has, and some contemporary examples of this are Dirty Pretty Things and the films of Paul Greengrass.
In conclusion I would argue that realism has been conceptualised and articulated into countless forms by filmmakers that seek to replicate reality, but that we will never be able to ascertain which does so most effectively as reality itself is a subjective concept that can never be consistantly defined.
Bibliography
- Bondanella, Peter (1998) ‘The Masters of Neorealism: De Sica, Visconti and Rossellini’ in Italian Cinema from Neorealism to the Present, New York: Continuum
- Gaines, Jane M. (2007) ‘The Production of Outrage: the Radical Documentary Tradition’, The Journal of Cinema and Media 48.2 36-55
- Higson, Andrew (1986) ‘Britains Outstanding Contribution to the Film’: The Documentary-Realist Tradition in Charles Barr (ed) in All Our Yesterdays: 90 Years Of British Cinema, London: BFI
- Lovell, Alan and Hillier, Jim (1972) Studies in Documentary, London, Secker & Warburg/BFI, p. 35
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