1. This book is a fascinating look at how early cinema and moving images inspired and were inspired by other more static forms of visual culture, such as painting, photography, and tableaux vivants. The contributors to this volume demonstrate how cinema responded to and was positioned within broader artistic and cultural frameworks. 2. This book is another strong contribution to the Proceedings of Domitor series, of which we are now the sole publishers. 3. It will benefit from (...) our well established reputation in early cinema studies. (shrink)

Simon Popple and Joe Kember _Early Cinema: From Factory Gate to Dream Factory_ London and New York: Wallflower Press, 2004 ISBN 1-903364-58-2 136 pp.

The early 20thcentury works of Kurdish Islamic thinker Said Nursî explore how cinema can provide access to the divine. Yet, considering the periods of Nursî’s life that were spent in prison, or in exile in remote locations, it is likely that the cinema he was discussing was, very specifically, the early silent cinema of attractions. Thus the distinctive format of this cinema can be uncovered in, and seen to structure, Nursî’s formulation of ‘God's (...) class='Hi'>cinema’. With this proposition in mind, this article indicates something of the potential that an engagement with Nursî’s cinematic writing offers for reconsidering topics already much discussed in film-philosophy, such as that of time in the works of Gilles Deleuze. (shrink)

Despite much excellent work over the years, the vast history of scientific filmmaking is still largely unknown. Historians of science have long been concerned with visual culture, communication and the public sphere on the one hand, and with expertise, knowledge production and experimental practice on the other. Scientists, we know, drew pictures, took photographs and made three-dimensional models. Rather like models, films could not be printed in journals until the digital era, and this limited their usefulness as evidence. But that (...) did not stop researchers from making movies for projection at conferences as well as in lecture halls, museums and other public venues, not to mention for breaking down into individual frames for analysis. Historians of science are more likely to be found in the library, archive or museum than the darkened screening room, and much work is still needed to demonstrate the major effects of cinema on scientific knowledge. Film may have taken as long to change science as other areas of social life, but one can begin to glimpse important ways in which ‘image machines’ were beginning to mediate between backstage experimental work and more public demonstration even around 1900. (shrink)

ArgumentThe analogy between dream and film represents a central thread in the psychoanalytic discussion of cinema. Using examples taken from films created between 1900 and 1906, this paper develops a typology of dream scenes in early film. The basis for the proposed typology is provided by the dream knowledge in circulation toward the end of the nineteenth century. This knowledge was fed by a great variety of sources, some of them in the proximity of scientific research and some (...) of them far from it, including wish-fulfilling prognostic models and those based on the reservoir of memory or on bodily stimuli. By setting cinema in a context of contemporary dream psychologies, it is possible to trace the specific conditions under which the analogy between dream and cinema could become effective. (shrink)

In this essay I engage the perspective of film phenomenology to analyze the black screen as a frame-breaking negative experience, based on an understanding of cinema as event. Relying on Vivian Sobchack’s phenomenological approach and taking inspiration from Cecil M. Hepworth’s How It Feels to Be Run Over, a case in point for a method predicated on the question of “how,” I place emphasis on the “film’s body” and consciousness which, through its own paralysis and impairment, affects the spectator’s (...) lived-body. Following the terminology of sociologist Erving Goffman, I approach both a car accident at the turn of the twentieth century and 9/11 on the cusp of the new millennium as frame-breaking events that generate a profound negative experience. I then describe the black screen in 9/11 films as a frame-breaking occurrence that creates a negative event in its own right. The encounter with the breakage of the conventional mechanisms and modes of the “film’s body” as well as the forced sensory shift lead the spectator to a heightened awareness of his/her own body as a receiving medium that empathetically partakes in the experience of a negative event at the scene of cinema, both perceptually and reflexively. (shrink)

Cultures from around the world have long turned to the dome of the heavens to better understand the cosmos. This perceived curvature has manifested architecturally throughout the world, and domes have been used to enclose the most sacred environments of many cultures. In the 20th century, it became possible for the first time to radially extend mental images onto the dome screen using projections of light. The ability to completely immerse the visual field of audiences in a mediated environment, made (...) possible by advancements in engineering, mechanics, and electronics, was seized upon by numerous pioneers across a wide range of contexts. Like their historic predecessors, these modern multi-sensory sanctuaries continued to reflect the cosmologies and motivations of their creators, subtly affecting the evolutionary trajectory of the cultures from which they emerged. This paper is an attempt to shed light on the largely forgotten history, context, and motivations behind these early dome theaters. (shrink)

How does Cahiers du cinéma react to the emergence of the French New Wave? What are the strategies implemented by the magazine when confronted to the risk that the politique des auteurs could end up as a politique de l’amitié? While other magazines –such as Positif or Présence du cinéma– focus themselves to attack the new cineastes, Éric Rohmer strengthens his preference for clacisism and avoids to make references to modern films. His refusal to any engagement with contemporaneity creates a (...) source of friction within the magazine and, in the end, Rohmer would be replaced by Jacques Rivette. A new cicle begins: the new chief editor believes that modern cinema demands modern forms of criticism and that it is not a question of extracting meaning from films anymore but, instead, now it is all about suspending it. From the perpective of historical criticism, this article tries to reconstruct the different stages of that conflictive transitional moment. My intention is to show that a certain notion of modern cinema and a new conception of the image emerge as a result of that controversy. (shrink)

Shard cinema tells an expansive story of how moving images have changed in the last three decades, and how they have changed us along with them, rewiring the ways we watch, fight, and navigate an unsteady world. In a set of interrelated essays that range from the writings of early factory workers to the distributed sight of contemporary surveillance, Williams argues for deep links between the images we see and the hidden labors frozen into them, exploring how even (...) the apparently trivial or spectacular carries unique opportunities to detect and process the social frictions of their making. Spanning film, video games, radical history, architecture, visual effects, and war, the book crosses the twentieth century into our present to confront a new order of seeing and making that slowly took shape: the composite image, where no clean distinction can be made between production and post-production, filmed and animated, material and digital. Giving equal ground to costly blockbusters, shaky riot footage, disaster photography, and early cinema, Williams leads us from computer-generated 'shards' of particles and debris to the broken phone screens on which we watch these digital storms, looking for the unexpected histories lived in the interval between"--Page 4 of cover. (shrink)

Resumo Na entrevista ficcional que se segue, as ideias de Abbé Jean-Baptiste Du Bos sobre as artes de representação serão aplicadas a aspectos relevantes do cinema. Du Bos argumenta que, normalmente, as obras de ficção cinematográfica são projectadas para dar origem a “paixões artificiais”, que têm a função de fornecer alívio ao tédio, sem as consequências negativas que muitas actividades alternativas têm. Também será considerada a questão, se os filmes têm um significado filosófico. O resultado é uma perspectiva desconhecida, (...) do princípio do século XVIII, em algumas temáticas contemporâneas. Palavras-chave : catarse, cinema apocalíptico, Du Bos, emoção, paixões artificiais, paradoxo do afecto negativoIn the following fictional interview, the Abbé Jean-Baptiste Du Bos’ ideas about the representational arts are applied to relevant aspects of the cinema. Du Bos argues that normally works of cinematic fiction are designed to give rise to ‘artificial passions’ that have the function of providing relief from boredom without the negative consequences that many alternative pursuits would have. Du Bos’ solution to the paradox of negative affect and his position on Aristotle’s doctrine of catharsis are also set forth in the interview. The question of whether films have philosophical significance is also taken up. The upshot is a somewhat unfamiliar early 18th-century perspective on some contemporary issues. Keywords: apocalyptic cinema, artificial passions, catharsis, Du Bos, emotion, paradox of negative affect. (shrink)

Depictions of children in British science fiction and horror films in the early 1960s introduced a new but dominant trope: the ‘extraordinary’ child. Extraordinary children, I suggest, are disturbing because they violate expected developmental norms, drawing on discourses from both the ‘psy’ sciences and early neuroscience. This post-war trope has been considered by film and literature scholars in the past five years, but this existing work tends to present the extraordinary child as an American phenomenon, and links these (...) depictions to adults’ psychoanalytical anxieties about parenthood and the family. This article, considering Village of the Damned (1960), Children of the Damned (1963), The Damned (1963), and Lord of the Flies (1963), will contend that the extraordinary child was British before it was American, and tapped as much into nuclear anxieties generated by the early Cold War as fears about the ‘permissive society’, especially given that many of these films preceded the peak of the ‘Swinging Sixties’ and were based on British science fiction of the 1950s. The ‘psy science’ that was dominant in these films was developmental psychology, not psychoanalysis. Moreover, adolescents as well as adults were key audiences for these films. Drawing on self-narrative essays written by English adolescents aged 14 to 16 between 1962 and 1966, I will demonstrate that this age group employed their own fears of nuclear war and their knowledge of psychological language to challenge adult authority, presenting a counter-narrative to adult conceptions of the abnormal and irresponsible ‘rising generation’. (shrink)

ISBN 978-1-4384-9027-4 Argues that Nietzsche’s idea of the Übermensch was a central concern of filmmakers in the 1920s and 1930s. -/- Nietzsche in Hollywood offers a compelling and startling history of Hollywood film in which the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche and his idea of the Übermensch looms large. Though Nietzsche’s philosophy was attacked as egoistic and a sociopathic version of Darwinism in films from the 1910s, it undergoes a series of cinematic and philosophical transformations in the 1920s and 1930s under (...) the eye and pen of some of the most significant names in early Hollywood, including Erich von Stroheim, Josef von Sternberg, Ben Hecht, Howard Hawks, and Ernst Lubitsch. In addition to establishing historical connections between Nietzsche’s philosophy and these filmmakers, the book provides philosophical readings of many Hollywood films through the lens of the Nietzschean ideas of “perspectivism” and the critique of morality. Offering a new history of classic Hollywood films as well as a new approach to film philosophy, Nietzsche in Hollywood reveals a reading of the philosopher in American culture that has largely been ignored. (shrink)

Michael Haneke is one of the most important directors working in Europe today, with films such as Funny Games (1997), Code Unknown (2000), and Hidden (2005) interrogating modern ethical dilemmas with forensic clarity and merciless insight. Haneke's films frequently implicate both the protagonists and the audience in the making of their misfortunes, yet even in the barren nihilism of The Seventh Continent (1989) and Time of the Wolf (2003) a dark strain of optimism emerges, releasing each from its terrible and (...) inescapable guilt. It is this contingent and unlikely possibility that we find in Haneke's cinema: a utopian Europe. This collection celebrates, explicates, and sometimes challenges the worldview of Haneke's films. It examines the director's central themes and preoccupations--bourgeois alienation, modes and critiques of spectatorship, the role of the media--and analyzes otherwise marginalized aspects of his work, such as the function of performance and stardom, early Austrian television productions, the romanticism of The Piano Teacher (2001), and the 2007 shot-for-shot remake of Funny Games. (shrink)

In the following fictional interview, the Abbé Jean-Baptiste Du Bos’ ideas about the representational arts are applied to relevant aspects of the cinema. Du Bos argues that normally works of cinematic fiction are designed to give rise to ‘artificial passions’ that have the function of providing relief from boredom without the negative consequences that many alternative pursuits would have. Du Bos’ solution to the paradox of negative affect and his position on Aristotle’s doctrine of catharsis are also set forth (...) in the interview. The question of whether films have philosophical significance is also taken up. The upshot is a somewhat unfamiliar early 18th-century perspective on some contemporary issues. (shrink)

Introduction -- Approaching reality: Chinese ontology and the potentiality of time -- Cinema of thought: directed consciousness in Chinese Marxist film theory -- Soft film theory: life in all its presence and concreteness -- Fey Mou: the presence of an absence -- Cinema of ideation, cinema of play: the early Cantonese sound film -- Conclusion.

Emmanuel Levinas never wrote about cinema. To the uninitiated, this may appearsurprising, given that his life spanned the twentieth century, in which film emerged as amajor art form, and his work includes tantalising allusions to films and the cinematicmedium. Far from surprising, however, the liminal place that cinema occupies inLevinas’s thought is entirely understandable. Although his philosophy features manycultured references to literature and the other arts, and he discusses the work of suchwriters as Marcel Proust and Michel Leiris (...) in some detail, his early work is dismissive ofthe aesthetic dimension in ethical terms. More significantly still, his philosophy bears achallenging relation to questions of vision and the phenomenological world ofappearance, tending towards the anti-ocular and revealing an iconoclastic approach toimages. There is something provocative, then, in wanting to ask what Levinas’sphilosophy has to say about cinema, if we understand this realm as the location parexcellence of the moving image. Yet this is precisely the guiding question of this SpecialIssue, which is the first to bring together articles on the work of Levinas and the insightsthat his philosophy can offer to film studies. The collection features an internationalselection of contributors, and includes Levinas specialists as well as film scholars. Thereis no easy bond to be forged between this philosopher and film, and the possibility ofmaking this connection remains open to interrogation throughout some of the articles.But by taking Levinas to the cinema, while tracking the cinematic aspects of his thinking,all of the contributors address this hitherto occluded relation in generative ways, andeach creates a critical opening for future research in the field. (shrink)

According to Hugo Münsterberg, the direct application of experimental psychology to the practical problems of education, law, industry, and art belonged by definition to the domain of psychotechnics. Whether in the form of pedagogical prescription, interrogation technique, hiring practice, or aesthetic principle, the psychotechnical method implied bringing the psychological laboratory to bear on everyday life. There were, however, significant pitfalls to leaving behind the putative purity of the early psychological laboratory in pursuit of technological utility. In the Vocation Bureau, (...) for example, psychological instruments were often deemed too intimidating for a public unfamiliar with the inner workings of experimental science. Similarly, when psychotechnical means were employed by big business in screening job candidates, ethical red flags were raised about this new alliance between science and capital. This tension was particularly evident in Münsterberg's collaboration with the Paramount Pictures Corporation in 1916. In translating psychological tests into short experimental films, Münsterberg not only envisioned a new mass medium for the dissemination of psychotechnics, but a means by which to initiate the masses into the culture of experimental psychology. (shrink)

The digital surface in cinema has, throughout its relatively brief history, been subject to a familiar “iconophobic” tendency, documented by Rosalind Galt, to denigrate surface decoration as “empty spectacle”. In early scholarship on computer generated images in cinema, the digital surface's alleged seamlessness and “new depthlessness” frequently became an overdetermined nexus of loss: of material presence, of an indexical relation to the world and lived experience, and of the continuation of older traditions of narrative cinema. Today, (...) digital visual effects sequences in mainstream cinema continue to be framed by film reviewers in negative terms: as variously lacking imagination, realism, narrative depth, and affective power. Digital visual effects and digital media scholarship have done much to reclaim the cultural significance of mainstream digital visual effects sequences and their capacity to speak to a rapidly evolving and increasingly encompassing digital media ecology. Yet the f... (shrink)

Deleuze, Japanese Cinema, and the Atom Bomb establishes the first ever sustained encounter between Gilles Deleuze’s Cinema books and post-war Japanese cinema, exploring how Japanese films responded to the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. From the early days of occupation and political censorship to the social and cultural freedoms of the 1960s and beyond, the book examines how images of the nuclear event appear in post-war Japanese cinema. -/- Using Deleuze’s taxonony of cinema, (...) each chapter begins by focusing upon one or more of three key Deleuzian themes – image, history and thought – before going on to look at a selection of films from 1945 to the present day. These include movies by well-known directors Kurosawa Akira, Shindo Kaneto, Oshima Nagisa and Imamura Shohei; popular and cult classics – Godzilla (1954), Akira (1988) and Tetsuo (1989); contemporary genre flicks – Ring (1998), Dead or Alive (1999) and Casshern (2004); the avant-garde and rarely seen documentaries. A series of tables clarify the conceptual components deployed within the text; and each film is illustrated with a number of stills. (shrink)

ArgumentThis essay considers the metaphors of projection in Hugo Münsterberg's theory of cinema spectatorship. Münsterberg (1863–1916), a German born and educated professor of psychology at Harvard University, turned his attention to cinema only a few years before his untimely death at the age of fifty-three. But he brought to the new medium certain lasting preoccupations. This account begins with the contention that Münsterberg's intervention in the cinema discussion pursued his well-established strategy of pitting a laboratory model against (...) a clinical one, in this case the “master-trope” of early cinema a spectatorship drawn from hysteria, hypnosis, and related phenomena like double-consciousness. Münsterberg's laboratory-oriented account also flowed from his account of cinema technology as an outgrowth of the apparatus of his own discipline of experimental psycho-physiology, which entailed a model of cinema spectatorship continuous with the epistemological setting of laboratory relations. I argue that inThe Photoplayand related writings projection functioned in three registers: material, psychological, and philosophical. Münsterberg's primary concern was with psychological projection, where he drew upon his own work in experimental aesthetics to articulate an account of how the basic automatisms of cinema produce a state of oscillation between immersion and distraction. I show how Münsterberg's experimental aesthetics drew upon German doctrines of aesthetic empathy, orEinfühlung, which Münsterberg sought to modify in accordance with the dynamic and temporal characteristics of psycho-physiological experiment. Finally, I argue that Münsterberg's cinema theory was enfolded in his action or double-standpoint theory, in which the transcendental self posits the material, objective conditions of laboratory experience as a means to know itself. This philosophical projection explained cinema's uncanny ability to suspend ordinary perceptions of space, time, and causality. It also made cinema uniquely suited for the philosophical emancipation of a popular mass audience. (shrink)

This issue ofScience in Contextis dedicated to the question of whether there was a “cinematographic turn” in the sciences around the beginning of the twentieth century. In 1895, the Lumière brothers presented their projection apparatus to the Parisian public for the first time. In 1897, the Scottish medical doctor John McIntyre filmed the movement of a frog's leg; in Vienna, in 1898, Ludwig Braun made film recordings of the contractions of a living dog's heart (cf. Cartwright 1992); in 1904, Lucien (...) Bull filmed in slow motion a bullet entering a soap bubble. In 1907 and 1908, respectively, Max Seddig and Victor Henri recorded Brownian motion with the help of a cinematograph (Curtis 2005). In 1909, the Swiss Julius Ries was one of the first to film fertilization and cell division in sea urchins (Ries 1909). In that same year in Paris, Louise Chevroton and Frédéric Vlès used a film camera to observe cell division in the same object (Chevroton and Vlès 1909). As early as 1898, the Parisian surgeon Eugène-Louis Doyen began filming several of his operations, among them the spectacular separation of the Siamese twins Doodica and Radica (Bonah and Laukötter 2009). And in England, the scientist and zoologist Francis Martin Duncan produced an array of popular-scientific films for Charles Urban: “The unseen world: A series of microscopic studies” was presented to the public in the Alhambra Theatre in London for the first time in 1903 (see Gaycken in this issue). (shrink)

In 1936 Samuel Beckett wrote a letter to Sergei Eisenstein - the legendary director of such films as Battleship Potemkin - expressing his own desire to work in the lost tradition of silent film. Drawing on substantial archival material, this is the first book to examine comprehensively the full extent of Beckett's engagement with cinema and its influence on his work for stage and screen. Examining his writing on second wave modernist cinema, including the work of directors such (...) as Eisenstein, Godard, Griffith and Bresson as well as performers such as Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin and Greta Garbo, the book reveals film art to be central to Beckett's modernist aesthetic. In this way, Beckett is revealed to be part of a wider modernist theatrical tradition that stood as an inheritor of early 20th century cinema, alongside Meyerhold, Brecht and Artaud. (shrink)

A colleague of Roland Barthes at the CNRS in the 1950s and cowriter and friend of Cornelius Castoriadis until the latter's death, Edgar Morin has until recently been too little known in the English-speaking world. In an oeuvre that spans half a century, attempting to combine in ongoing dialogue the `humanities' and `sciences', Morin has written on scientific method, fundamental anthropology, politics, contemporary life and popular culture. He is an advocate of `complex' thought, thought which does not reduce, rationalize and (...) mutilate phenomena under examination, which emphasizes the interaction between researcher and researched, and participation as a way of being in the world. This article particularly focuses on his work on death and cinema, suggesting a strong continuity between his early studies and his more recent writing on complexity and ecology. The radically democratic complexion of Morin's writings, his emphasis on a human empathy that can incorporate notions of unity and difference, make him a thinker of great relevance for today. (shrink)

In this paper, I use two films—Les Statues MeurrentAussi directed by Resnais and Marker and Sans Soleil as representatives of Left Bank cinema to show how they construct experiences of time and memory using various modernist strategies. Key to this is the use of a mental journey genre in modernist cinema and the construction of a facial dispositif which leads to a perceptual experiencing of inner states. Les Statues MeurrentAussi is a key film in the history of French (...) cinema as it highlights Alain Resnais’ and Chris Marker’s early commitment towards a politically avant-garde filmmaking style. The film was banned for many decades because it was highly critical of France’s colonial interests. The film is also a proof to the less emphasised collaboration between two pioneering directors and especially in their use of the essay film genre. Sans Soleil on the other hand is considered as a philosophical masterpiece because of its meditations on time and memory. In taking these two films, I hope not only to demonstrate cinema’s capability to generate affective spatio-temporal states but also to highlight a piece of film history which is often misappropriated under the tag of the French New Wave. (shrink)

When Andre Bazin's most important essays on film were collected together in a single volume and titled What is Cinema? they raised a question that Bazin did not answer. Nor did he intend to. Nor has it been answered by any of the other theorists who have written what now seem to be the major works on film theory and who now seem the most influential spokesmen for the art. Rudolf Arnheim, Andre Bazin, Stanley Cavell, S. M. Einstein, Siegfried (...) Kracauer, Christian Metz, Hugo Munsterberg, Erwin Panofsky, and Gene Youngblood have failed to define what cinema essentially is.1 Unlike Ionesco's comically methodical Logician, they have been less than careful about posing the problem correctly. As a result they have been less than successful and less than precise with a deceptively difficult and complicated issue. They have defined some kinds of cinema, they have defined some of the qualities unique to those kinds of cinema, they have defined the characteristics and devices they find most valuable in some of those kinds of cinema, they simply have not defined cinema. · 1. Relevant sections of all these theorists can be found in Gerald Mast and Marshall Cohen, eds., Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings . Gerald Mast, associate professor of humanities at Richmond College of the City University of New York, has written A Short History of the Movies, The Comic Mind: Comedy and the Movies, Filmguide to the Rules of the Game, and Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings . This article is part of a forthcoming book, What Isn't Cinema? He has also contributed "Kracauer's Two Tendencies and the Early History of Film Narrative" to Critical Inquiry. (shrink)

Previous research into film preferences and functions has looked above all at teenagers and younger to middle-aged adults. There is a lack of information in this area with respect to the behavior and preferences of older adults. In this study, for the first time, the fifty-and-older cohort was questioned in a representative sample about their film preferences. The analysis shows that the film preferences of the majority of those questioned were formed before the age of thirty. These early preferences (...) remain relatively stable. Older people generally prefer films set in a time period or dealing with historic events that they themselves experienced and with which they therefore have a certain expertise. With increasing age, older men prefer film genres that otherwise tend to be preferred by female viewers. Women, as they are older, tend to increasingly prefer female film content. (shrink)

Philosophical and technoculture studies surrounding the existential understanding of the human–technology–world experience have seen a slow but steady increase that makes a turn to material hermeneutics in the second decade of the twenty-first century (Ihde in Postphenomenology: essays in the postmodern context. Northwestern University Press, Evanston, 1993; Capurro in AI Soc 25(1):35–42, 2010; Romele in Digital hermeneutics: philosophical investigations in new media and technologies. Routledge, Abingdon, 2020; among others). This renewed focus makes sense because human–technology–world experiences need to be interpreted. (...) And many of these are more complicated to study, precisely because technology is at the root of the experiences. One interesting subset of technologies is media technologies, also called digital media, which intertwines the device and the content to mediate together in the world (Irwin in Digital media: human-technology connection. Lexington Books, Lanham, 2016). Visual media technologies and media content, together, through what is called moving image technologies, create virtual role-playing, virtual and augmented reality, video games, and social media focused worlds that have become central experiences in contemporary culture. Just as image-based scientific instruments read the world in different ways, so to do these visual mediated experiences. How might this comingled “reading” of technology explain the digital film language and experience? I contend that understanding the existential “early” film experience helps understand the new age of cinema, with implications for digital media, digital representation of the visual, and technoscience and technoculture studies. The material hermeneutics perspective called postphenomenology is one way to study these visually focused human–technology–world perceptual and interpretive experiences. Don Ihde’s methodological framework (1990, 1993, 1996, 2002, 2010, 2012, 2016, 2019) is both an idea from technoscience studies and a set of nuanced vocabulary that helps to explore and reveal variations, patterns, and trajectories of the whole-body experience of technology. This use case will first explore traditional cinema and then the “new age” term “moving image”, to learn more about this complicated and radically transforming technological experience. Work by Don Ihde and Vivian Sobchack is considered. (shrink)

In the one hundred years of the art of the cinema, one of the themes that repeatedly has interested film makers and audiences is the life of Christ. The many films on Jesus of Nazareth and the Christ-event raise a number of issues, both theological and esthetic. In the first part of this article, the author analyzes some of these issues, focusing precisely on the crucial decisions regarding both content and style that the film maker approaching the Jesus theme (...) must make. In the second part of the article, the author considers briefly the more important films of the early years Jesus film tradition, and then does a more in-depth analysis of the major films of the tradition: the Hollywood Jesus epics, the Jesus musicals, the scandal film of Scorsese, three important Italian productions, and finally the masterpiece of the tradition, Pasolini's The Gospel According to St. Matthew. A subsequent article is announced which will analyze the many films which approach the Jesus story and the Christ-event metaphorically. (shrink)

The title of this essay is not to be taken literally: I will not be making the case that Marseille is actually the last working class city in France. My title is a reference to Chris Marker’s 1993 film The Last Bolshevik (Le Tombeau d’Alexandre), a film about Alexander Medvedkin, one of the pioneers of early Soviet cinema. Medvedkin was the inspiration for the Groupe Medvedkine, a film collective founded by Chris Marker and made up of French militant (...) filmmakers who, in December 1967, decided to document the labor unrest that had erupted in factories near Besançon by making experimental films that involved the active participation of the workers themselves. Marker first met Medvedkin at a film festival in Leipzig .. (shrink)

This article examines stasis in Chantal Akerman's cinema by means of a genealogical study into its minimalist origins in order to make visible its political operationality in her work and, by extension, its inherent political potential. Stasis is an aesthetic effect generated through the use of repetition, seriality, and duration in temporal media that proliferated in Minimalism across artforms and was taken up by Akerman during her séjour in New York in the early 1970s. The characteristic endless temporality (...) created by stasis in temporal media takes shape in Minimalism due in part to the movement's literalist, phenomenological orientation, which at one point caused Minimalist art to be regarded as nonideological – this while the static quality in Akerman's work appears to be constitutive of its political character. A study of her early films Hotel Monterey (1972) and Je tu il elle (1974), clearly influenced by the Minimalist scene she was immersed in, illustrates how stasis emerges analogously in Minimalist music, dance, and Akerman's cinema. Minimalism's paradigmatically phenomenological orientation and its intricate entwinement with stasis are examined in relation to Akerman's work to reveal their inherent potential for political operationality in art. (shrink)

Motivated by the unconventional views on film and art in general, and often unrestrained by the commercial imperatives, generative artists engage the poetic and expressive potentials of film playfully and efficiently, with explicit or implicit critique of cinema in a broader cultural context. This article looks at the creative incentives, insights and implications of generative cinema. In six interrelated categories, it presents the art projects of generative cinema, which in various ways point to the algorithmic models for (...) parametric, analytical and/or synthetic generation of the cinematic structure, narrative, composition, editing, presentation and interaction. The article states that the algorithmic essence of generative cinema significantly expands the realm of creative methodologies for the artists working with film, but also provides a platform for critical assessment of the algorithmic strategies and overall creativity in contemporary film industry. Exploring the algorithms on a multitude of levels, generative cinema is on its way of becoming the supreme art of the moving image in the early twenty-first century. Its poetic divergence, technical fluency and conceptual cogency successfully demonstrate that the authorship evolves towards ever more abstract reflection and cognition that equally treats the existing creative achievements as inspirations, knowledge sources and tools. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Looking Beyond Neoliberalism: French and Fran-cophone Belgian Cinema and the Crisis by Martin O’ShaughnessyJoseph MaiO’Shaughnessy, Martin. Looking Beyond Neoliberalism: French and Fran-cophone Belgian Cinema and the Crisis. Edinburgh University Press, 2022. 224pp.Martin O’Shaughnessy has devoted a career to scouring the intersections of politics, identity, and contemporary French cinema, perhaps most notably in his 2007 book, The New Face of Political Filmmaking. In a review in (...) Cineaste, Jonathan Buchsbaum called that book “theoretically sophisticated” and a “powerful and eloquent polemic for retaining a class analysis of film” (90). According to Buchsbaum, The New Face asked “the central question of how films can formulate political critiques after the collapse of the grand leftist narrative(s) of the twentieth century” (89). O’Shaughnessy’s new book, Looking Beyond Neoliberalism: French and Francophone Belgian Cinema and the Crisis, is a major publication with similar qualities of theoretical breadth, and is also once again inspired by cinematic attempts to envision different political futures.Things have not gotten better since 2007. The “crisis” of O’Shaughnessy’s title does not refer narrowly to the financial meltdown of 2007–2008 and subsequent government-funded bailouts. Crisis is not an event requiring austerity (disguised as “courageous decision-making”), but in many senses the essence of global neoliberalism, or as the frequently cited Maurizio Lazzarato puts it: “the form of government of contemporary capitalism” (qtd. in O’Shaughnessy 5). The 2008 crisis has, if anything, made this form of government ever more visible, and ever more punitive and essential to Western industrial societies. With a mastery of the philosophical critique of neoliberalism, O’Shaughnessy unpacks how the logic of crisis habituates the subject to self-entrepreneurship, debt, social and political isolation, conformism, precarity, social violence, and nihilism.The book looks at these issues through cinematic works by French and Belgian Francophone filmmakers, ranging from popular auteurs like Jacques Audiard and Luc Besson to more critically political filmmakers like the Dardenne brothers or Laurent Cantet. O’Shaughnessy is not looking only for thematic representations; he also seeks new answers in films that respond to, flee, or resist neoliberalism. Like the Occupy or Nuit Debout movements, much of this cinema seeks to reformulate identifications and cultivate political resistance, though O’Shaughnessy warns us early on [End Page 117] that we are not in a place “where there is a cohesive political cinema” (9). There is, therefore, a refreshingly normative concern throughout the book: the most valuable films seek paths toward social encounter, re-assemblage of identity categories, lives that are not defined through debt, and a future in which crisis and precarity do not structure action.The first three chapters focus on the “crisis of the neoliberal subject” (6). Chapter 1 approaches the work of Jacques Audiard, who has at times been read as reinforcing regressive gender roles and at other times embracing a rather more disruptive masculinity. Bringing the lens of the neoliberal subject to bear on films like Un prophète (2009) or Un héros très discret (1996), O’Shaughnessy emphasizes Audiard’s use of crime-genre filmmaking as a parallel to capitalism, and the genre hero as a corollary to the bourgeois entrepreneurial male subjectivity it fosters and puts into crisis. Desperately, Audiard’s masculine subjects rehearse, recreate, and “perfect” themselves, initiate profitable collaboration, self-define through flexibility, improvisation, and competence, in ways that are hallmarks of, but do not surpass, an internalized neoliberal subjectivity.Chapter 2 examines how the mechanisms of debt influence characters’ beliefs and actions. What does it mean, in works by the Dardenne brothers, Laurent Cantet, and Mia Hansen-Løve, to be “man in debt” (54)? O’Shaughnessy explores debt’s temporality as it limits the possibilities of the future by tying actions to the obligations of repayment. In Le silence de Lorna (2010), Lorna is enrolled in a logic of indebtedness in exchange for papers to cross borders, at the expense of another human, Claudy. Caught in an “overarching tension between systemic violence and an ethical commitment to the Other” (45), she seeks a way out in increasingly irrational attempts to escape. Vincent, the protagonist of L’emploi du temps... (shrink)

The article is devoted to the emergence and development of Yakut cinema. The object of the study is the Yakut cinema as a phenomenon of national culture. The first appearance of film installations in the Yakut region at the beginning of the XX century is considered. Attention is drawn to the process of mass cinematography in Soviet times. In parallel, the inclusion of Yakut people in the creative process of participating in the first filming at All-Union film studios (...) in the 1930s is traced. Attention is also drawn to the prominent role of the Yakutkino State Trust, which led the development of Yakut cinema. The author analyzes the reasons for the rapid development of Yakut cinema in the post-Soviet period, related to the appeal to the traditions of the Sakha people, the high level of development of theatrical art in Yakutia, artistic and aesthetic needs and spiritual demands of the audience. The article shows the role of "Sahafilm" in the history of Yakut cinema. The characteristic features of the formation of genres of journalistic cinema, the change of repertoire in the early years of Soviet cinematography and during the Great Patriotic War are revealed. The characteristic features of the post-war reconstruction of the technical equipment and training of personnel of the Yakut cinema are outlined. The genre diversity of films shot during this and subsequent times is shown, when, along with documentaries, feature films also begin to be shot. The development of Yakut cinema is traced against the background of all-Union and all-Russian processes. The formation and development of the main institutions of Yakut cinematography, the growth of the skill of its figures are examined through famous films created by them. For the first time, three stages of the development of Yakut cinema have been identified - from the very beginning to the present day: from "silent cinema" to the birth of the national film industry. (shrink)

Györgi Pálfi’s Taxidermia is a landmark work of postsocialist cinema. The film is a study in violent contrasts. It is viscerallycharged and icily allegorical; intimately physical in its exploration ofmasculine desire and bodily disgust, and sardonically distanced in its satiricalportrayal of the successive social and political regimes that dominatedHungary over the course of the twentieth century. On the one hand,Taxidermia is a highly controlled, severely formalist film. In its nearlyinhuman detachment, and its rigorously schematic organization, it is assevere as (...) anything by Kubrick. Yet at the same time, it is filled withuncomfortable and unpredictable details; and it insistently focuses onexcesses of the flesh in a way that rivals early Cronenberg. In what follows, Iconsider Taxidermia in the light of these contradictory extremes. (shrink)