9/11 is boring

I should probably qualify my title at the risk of sounding insensitive. After watching the marathon coverage of 9/11 in the screening, I truy did become bored of seeing the same footage repeated ad nauseam. At first it seemed strange to me that such a horrific event, with such emotionally stirring images that go alone with it, could lose its emotional effect on me. Yet this seems to be what Barthes was describing when he says that the reproducibility of the image, the way that it is brought closer to the listener through its reproductions, also causes the original to become less significant. Im not sure the concept entirely covers this situation, but it seemed that we were being brought to look at the similarties between the different networks coverage, that across the board the newscasters were saying the same things, and everyone was showing the same footage over and over. Maybe the disinterest I felt was more a result of desensitisation, but that in itself is distressing. It has always been a question regarding the media if the constant barrage of horrific images serves to stir us to take action, or if instead, as in Keenan's arguement regarding the Sarajevo riots and the general lack of arousal within the viewers. Of course, in a situation as traumatic and heavy as 9/11, everyone WANTS to see the explosions and the people running, a voyeuristic desire to rubber neck without being at the scene that the news networks are more than happy to indulge.

Law and Order: Network Intent

Watching a Law and Order Rerun on TNT...

I started watching at 3:21 PM

Show....
Lorraine Dillon turns herself in for the murder of Patrick Sullivan

Commercials:
Season Finale of “Raising the Bar”, another show on TNT-- very much like L&O
ad for another TV show- fantasy
Glade Fabric and Air-- family
Kirsten the Talking Cow “auditioning” for a “Real California Milk” commercial
Lysol Neutraair-- very much like the commercial two before
Direct TV-- content of commercial totally irrelevant to what is being advertised
Network Television Premire: Da Vinci Code-- playing on TNT
Coming Up Next on TNT: Charmed “TNT: We Know Drama”

Law and Order:
Characters try to prove if Lorraine was telling the truth
Interview Sullivan’s ex-lover, Ms. Dillon, in a court room (?)-- Sullivan raped her daughter April at the age of 14 and that is why she didn’t marry him. She was being attacked by him and he had a gun. “The next thing I knew Patrick was dead and I was holding his gun.”
Mr. McCoy: exposes fraud... subtle suspenseful music... evoking emotion from the spectator and Ms. Dillon

Cut to courthouse steps and McCoy and a female lawyer talk about exposing potential lies in the April story

Cut to April being interrogated on the stand by McCoy and the female lawyer. It comes out that April and Patrick were consensual lovers. Lorraine killed Patrick out of jealousy and forced her daughter to lie for her.

So one of the women is lying.

Lorraine tells a story about how she was actually protecting April with her story and April is really the murderer

Cut to Jury’s ruling: Lorraine is guilty

Commercials:
Season Premiere of “Leverage” on TNT
Florida Orange Juice-- vitamins and minerals! “pure and simple”
Vonage “get more” “first month is free”
Raisin Bran Crunch-- sports guys
IHOP-- Strudel Pancakes...
Toaster Strudel
associatedtaxrelief.com --- “real stories, real results” in green in corner of screen
“Raising the Bar” Season Finale

Law and Order:
Conned
April was sent away because she was pregnant
Facility cook drove her to the hospital, but never reached hospital. Birth in the car
They were having sex
April buried the baby-- there was something wrong with it [suspenseful music]

Commercial
“You’re watching Law and Order” sponsored by IHOP
IHOP-- same commercial as before
Binder and Binder
Netflix--Snowing Popcorn
AARP Health Care Options-- choices! free...free... easy! endorsement by AARP!
NBA on TNT

Law and Order...

3:55


Comments:
First off, my favorite little tidbit of flow was going from the IHOP commercial for strudel pancakes to a commercial for Toaster Strudel. Brilliant! (though probably just a coincidence). I was also amazed by the flow from the first segment of Law and Order I watched to the first commercial: a crime/lawyer show to another one of the same type. It took me a few moments to register that there was indeed a seam between the show and the commercial. I also never noticed before that the segments of show get shorter and shorter and the commercial breaks become more frequent, until I read it in this week’s readings (despite thinking time and time again that there are too many commercials...). I did notice it this time!

Within the show itself, what was interesting was that even though I started watching one-third through the show, I was still invested in the plot by the end and stuck it out until the end to see how the story played out. And even though I was typing away, keeping track of the plot, the soundtrack at certain times, whether it be the suspenseful music or the distress in the characters’ voices, did indeed draw me in to actually paying attention to the scene.

Commercials and the Super Bowl

In relation to television, a newtwork competes for spectators with a flow. A flow replaces programming to an extent that competition for spectators is allowed to regulate broadcasting. When television ratings, or the amount of viewers, is increased so is the revenue. A good network will always have the most viewers, and as an advertiser, I would want my product to be promoted at a time and on a network where alot of people would see it. What better place to display your product than on one of the most viewed events per year; the Super Bowl. In 2008, 97.5 million people ( http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02/04/AR2008020401109.html) watched the Super Bowl. NBC, who will be covering the 2009 Super Bowl, has been selling 30 second commercial spots for around 3 million dollars. Rights to the Super Bowl roughly cost around $1 billion, so the extremely high price for advertisements is almost justified, and the fact that advertisers are willing to this pay much shows they're willing to promote their product at any costs just to be shown for the Super Bowl. In my opinion, that's why the ads have to wow us, or how they have not evolved, to make us laugh. Companies know that in order to increase revenue by the $3 million dollars they spent on the ad by increasing their business production, they are going to need one hell of a commercial. In fact, some people ONLY watch the Super Bowl for the COMMERCIALS. The ads give the companies a chance to present a 30 second show to wow the viewer in to buying their product. This may seem like a tall task, but it must work, if they're still willing to pay $3 million for a 30 second slot...........

Reality

Bazin's unilateral privileging of photography's ability to capture reality is a similar line of thinking that underlies the equivocation with TV's supposed "liveness" with real-ness. Photography's capability to capture a historically "real" moment does guarantee its ability to give a viewer a feeling that they are witnessing some kind of truth, just as live television is in no way an un-mediated transmission of reality. While the critics of TV we've read write as though TV has duped all viewers into this misreading of "liveness," I would argue that Iona's and other's articulations of the alienation they feel while watching American TV is just such an example of "liveness" and immediacy failing to absorb the viewer. Similarly, photography's legitimacy as historical evidence (which is also, I think, a highly unstable claim) is different its ability to make the viewer feel as if they are witnessing "virginal purity" (15). Not every photograph carries Barthes' punctum. It is inaccurate to define art as a successful capture of reality--if this was so, every photograph would be a piece of art. Reality, defined as physical accuracy, cannot be confused with a feeling of emotional truth. Bazin agrees with me on this, but doesn't point out that photography, like painting, can fail to resonate with emotional validity.

Advertisements

Raised in Europe, my previous television watching experience has relied on being in a small welfare state. Before coming to America I had never been exposed to the vast quantity of medical ads that run on TV here simply because healthcare is something European states provide for – no need to advertise drugs, the state picks your blood pressure reducing drug. This can also be applied to education: the proliferation of regional commercials advertising community colleges does not have a European counterpart. Furthermore, I have found the combination of both national and region-specific commercials entertaining, simply because the latter are so often atrocious. These points relate to the quality of advertisements, but the sheer quantity of them on American TV needs to be noted. A typical 30-minute show in Holland will have one four-minute commercial break and would never have a commercial break before the credits. In fact, when American shows are brought over to Europe, it’s noticeable when American audiences would cut to commercials (but in Holland the show just keeps on running).

TV(s)

CNN US, 29 October 2008, From 7:08pm

I Travel Guides

Announcer: Now is the perfect time for Americans to travel.

Juxtaposed “window-frames" of announcer and travel expert. Announcer: What might be the reasons for this phenomenon?

Travel Expert: The dollar is stronger than other currencies (the Euro, the Pound, the Australian Dollar, …)

(currencies compare-contrast chart)

Juxtaposed “window-frames" of announcer and travel expert. Announcer: Means of transportation. What is the situation with air-travel?

Travel Expert: Airlines are quietly discounting.

(film: airport, planes,…)

Juxtaposed “window-frames" of announcer and travel expert. Announcer: Other means of transportation?

Travel Expert: Deep discount on cruising.

(chart of prices)

Juxtaposed “window-frames" of announcer and travel expert. Announcer: Hotel prices?

Travel Expert: Low-cost lodging. Hotels give deals

(slide)

Juxtaposed “window-frames" of announcer and travel expert. Announcer: Are Americans taking advantage of these opportunities?

Travel Expert: No. People still uncertain about how they should use their discretionary income. Current financial crisis – also a factor

II Still image: name of travel expert and cnn website. Voice briefly presents travel expert.

III The cnn 2008 Hero Honoree

Announcer: Meet one of the candidates for the cnn 2008 Hero Honoree

Film: brief presentation of candidates.

Shift to another studio (2): Announcer: Meet one of “our Heroes”: Maria Ruiz from Mexico, founder and coordinator of JEM Ministries

Pattern – repeated several times with slight variations: Juxtaposed “window-frames" of announcer and Maria. Announcer welcomes Maria; asks questions about her project, her motivations

Maria: answers

Film of Maria at work OR still images – photographs of Maria and the children her organization helps OR page from JEM Ministries website

Announcer: comments on Maria’s answer and/or asks new question

Back to studio (2)

Das Erste ARD, 29 October 2008, From 7:37pm (US Eastern Time)

Weather Forecast for Germany

Announcer: The weather in Germany will continue to be chilly and rainy this night and tomorrow.

Shift to the Weatherwoman. Weatherwoman: Very chilly tonight. Snow in the mountains.

Film: people skiing in the mountains

Rain/storm/sun map for Thursday. Weatherwoman comments.

Temperature (degrees Celsius) map for Thursday. Weatherwoman comments.

Three juxtaposed temperature (degrees Celsius) maps for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Weatherwoman comments.

Back to studio. Announcer: “Have a good night!” and the time of the next program on ARD.

Still image: “Kurze Unterbrechung” (short interruption) against blue background.

BBC World News, watched over the Internet at on http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/default.stm (One-Minute World News) on 29 October 2008, From 7:44pm (US Eastern Time)

Image of a rolling globe. Program ID against image of the globe moving: BBC News

Announcer: (without (!) introduction) The latest headlines from BBC World News.

Voice of announcer: Police in Afghanistan said three people – including two foreigners – have been shot dead in Kabul. (simultaneously) Film: Afghan police, Kabul; photo of a woman.

Fade out

Voice of announcer: UN Secretary Ban Ki Moon calls for drastic measures to protect developing countries against the financial crisis. (simultaneously) Film: Ban Ki Moon in session at the UN (?)

Fade out

Voice of announcer: The mother and the brother of the actress Jennifer Hudson have been found shot dead in their home in Chicago. (simultaneously) Film: house in Chicago, ambulance, police; Jennifer Hudson at an Oscar ceremony

Announcer: These were the latest headlines from BBC World News.

Comment(s):

- it appears to me that European TV news programmes (still) have a different “rhythm” (flow?) from the US ones. Their simplicity, clarity, and precision struck me. By contrast, the US news programmes I watched and their specific “arrangements” (of their components) puzzled (and even confused) me to a certain extent with their extremely fast rhythm (flow?), their numerous – repeating – patterns, as well as an excess of information. The US programmes brought to my mind Ockham’s principle (“razor”) – entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatum (entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity) – which, in my view, they utterly disregard (I realize, however, that I am now extrapolating and “adapting” the principle, but I think this formulation very well captures my reaction). For me, such an excess generated alienation, rather than “absorption” into the diegesis.

Flow/Fracture

Flow is undoubtedly an important aspect of our current construction of "television"; the sequence of seemingly unrelated events, each thrown one after another with no space marking the separation of the two events, nothing holding them apart, nothing that allows each segment to stand on its own in televisual form, or events interrupting and cutting into other events (such as commercials placed in breaks between scenes of a television show or segments of a newscast). But the flow is only one element of the current televisual landscape, as it only takes into account time, that is, the way segments are located in relation to one another temporally. It does not take into account the instantaneous, the nature of a single segment, or more specifically, a single moment/image within that segment.
But what interests me about the instantaneous image does not lie in any sort of wholeness or purity; it is rather that, like the continuity of television, the single image (for the purposes of this argument, the image referred to here (the complete image projected by a television screen, whose boundaries are the edges of the box) will be from here on out referred to as "screen") is fractured into multiple. Each screen contains multiple images, multiple frames and boundaries that take up separate sections of the screen and are meant to convey separate sets of information. Yet, unlike flow, the fact that all these images are being throw at us at a single moment in time means that we cannot attempt to separate the groups of information and process them separately; we must either read a connection between each individual fracture or process them separately of one another.
The coverage of 9/11 provides a very simple example, yet one that is incredibly important to understanding television: the display of a station logo, a sort of "watermark," while "live" footage of "breaking news" plays behind. This "watermark" is the most common fracture; almost any program watched on a network or cable station will be broken by the station logo displayed transparently in one of the corners of the screen. It prevents you from ignoring the economic foundation of the television industry; no matter what you watch, you're always choosing one particular network, one brand over the others. The "watermark" serves both as a way to impose the myth of network branding upon the viewers, and also "mark" recorded video, clearly identifying bootleg copies and holding them captive within the framework of television; there is no way to access the "pure" program (without, of course, buying a copy of the work from the same company, which, by forcing you to repurchase media, forces you to give in to the myth of the network brand in the extend of the capitalistic system such that the watermark is no longer necessary).
There is one other fracture present at the beginning of the 9/11 footage: that of the headline: "BREAKING NEWS: WORLD TRADE CENTERS COLLAPSE". This element refers directly to the "live" image being displayed on screen, and both provides an interpretation and understanding for those already watching as well as immediately informing those just tuning in the nature of the situation being covered. While both these roles/acts seem different, there is one key similarity: the giving of interpretative powers from the audience to the network. While this first headline portrays something very factually, the headline eventually transforms into "AMERICA UNDER ATTACK", with the lines boxing off the fracture transforming into an American flag waving in the wind. In this case, the headline has been transformed by the network's ideology; it has been mythologized; it alters and transforms the viewer's interpretation of the "live." While this mythologizing does not fully stem from the network (in this case, the revelation of the terrorist nature of the attacks had become apparent, and the government had released briefs and reports detailing the attacks as mythologizing them as such), the power of the fracture to alter the interpretation of the live is something that is clearly dangerous. While I do not mean to insinuate that the 9/11 attacks were not, in fact, an "attack on America" (I'm not a 'truther' and do not take 'truthers' incredibly seriously), I am very against the Patriot Act, which was passed in the aftermath of 9/11 and was very much helped by some of the mythologizing that occured on the day itself, and am also against the Iraq War, which the Bush administration was able to force authorization of partially through the creation of a myth surrounding Iraq with the manipulation of fracturing and flow. The destruction/restruction of said methods is nowhere near as clear cut as the alternative cinemas of multiple writers, due to the determinance of the capitalist system in the creation and commodification of televisual networks; while some cable channels are able to offer alternative representations and interpretations of the news (see Current), they have nowhere near the same reach as mainstream networks. Also, even networks like Current, as well as "Internet television," seem to depend upon use of fracturing and flow to convey information, holding the same possibilities as mainstream television news.

The liberation of the plastic arts

Bazin's definition of the dual aims of art as psychological realism and aesthetic realism-- and how their fundamental clash caused a crisis in traditional plastic arts-- really resonated with me. I think that the use of "traditional" plastic media to produce aesthetically realistic works is sort of like sticking your finger in the hole in the dike. That is to say, prior to photography, the use of these media was an imperfect manipulation, and arguably distortion, as a way to satisfy the desire to produce aesthetic likenesses. However, as Bazin intimates, this was not a use which maximized the plastic media-- rather, the natural qualities of these media were subjugated for the sake of representation.

The notion of photography relieving the other plastic arts of the burden of capturing aesthetic reality, thus liberating these media for more "appropriate" artistic tasks, fascinates me. The plastic arts, according to Bazin, were freed up to focus on the psychologically real. If I continue this train of thought, it seems to me that, just as photography is the most desirable medium for achieving aesthetic realism, conceptual art is the "medium" which allows for the purest achievement of psychological realism. It seems that there is a second liberation wave for the plastic media

For me, the implications of these new media (photographic and conceptual) are enormously encouraging for the continued evolution of traditional plastic media. For very long, these media have been used as "best fit" options for the dual goals of art as stated by Bazin. Now, however, it seems that these media may, for the first time, be in a position of absolute freedom from the traditional goals of art. 

Far from rendering these media irrelevant, I believe that this is a tremendous opportunity to expand the goals of art-- it seems that a third category, at least, of "realism" will have the chance to emerge. Now that paint, sculpture, drawing, and so on do not have to stretch to fill old media voids, to transubstantiate into what they are not (aesthetically real or psychologically real), they are free to express in a completely unpressured way. I'd like to hypothesize "media realism," or a return (or first arrival?) to the unadulterated nature of these materials as what may come from this new and exciting liberation.  And, as a side-note, how fascinating, that this revolutionary new aim or nature of art may be borne of the oldest artistic media!

Life, Representation, and Truth

There are several questions which Camera Lucida raises for me. Here are two ...

1. Barthes talks about life and death and the subject’s relationship to these two states as bestowed upon him by the photograph. He seems to say that the photograph bestows life upon the subject, makes him immortal, but also emphasizes the fact that he is going to die or is already dead. I am having trouble reconciling both points into one coherent view.

2. “Ultimately a photograph looks like anyone except the person it represents” (102). This is confusing because it follows a list of features which Barthes says are characteristic of the people



The concept of truth in photography that Barthes discusses all throughout CL is really interesting, and I agree with it. Everything that is shown in a photograph actually happened. I kept trying to think of instances that would disprove this very basic tenet of Barthes’s philosophy but I could not. Professor Chun brought up the concept of the fulgurator n lecture, but even so, the instance with the cross on Obama’s podium actually happened and there is no denying it, even if the cross was not material. And once we photoshop an image, it is no longer a photograph, but an instance of art, like a painting. It is something beyond capturing the essence of a subject, alters what has been, and therefore steps over the boundary of being photography.

Cinema and Death

As I watched Timothy Treadwell in Grizzly Man I couldn't help the fact that I felt as Barthes did when he looked at the picure of the chained prisoner, awaiting his exucution. When Barthes examined this picture, he said the thing that stuck out to him and made his almost sick was the fact that he was looking at a living person with a beating heart and new at the current present date, this person was dead. Likewise with Grizzly Man, everytime I saw Tim on film I felt this wave of almost grief toward him, knowing that he is no longer with us today and what we were seeing on film was the last of his days. Almost like we knew of the big event coming, his death, and watched as he was oblivious to it all. In my opinion, I think the picture of the chained prisoner make a bigger impact at first because with a moving picture, we have some questions answered as in the Who? What? Where? When? Why? In a photograph we may answer some of these questions, but not all. However, I think the fact we got to watch Tim on film, learn of his compassion for bears, learn of his life, learn of his past struggles and triumphs made us connect to Tim better than a picture would and that is why if was more difficult to accept his death than of the prisoners. Also in the movie, we learned that Tim was not doing anything to hurt another person but by the prisoner being chained we may assume that he was harmful to society or tried to hurt someone (this is an assumption which of course is not always true.)

Another interesting thing I noticed about myself during the film was how much I wanted to hear the recording of his death. Awful as this must sound, I don't believe I was the only one. The difference between a film and picture is that a film can show us the end result and a picture usually doesn't. In the case of this film however, its almost like the plot drives toward the climax of his death and when they reach the part where the film is suppose to produce the most effect, they skip over it and climb back down. I think some film makers do this to make the audience make up there own idea of something that would scare the crap out of them. For example, lets say in a scary movie there is a noise behind a closed door, maybe its a monster sound, who knows. Anyway you slowly creep toward and slowly open it. Now as the spectator what are you expecting? A monster? A murderer? A ghost? In my opinion 9/10 times what the spectator sees is usually not the scariest thing for them to see. THats why I like how some directors keep the door closed and make the spectator come up with their own demon.

Outtakes

For me, Herzog's Grizzly Man illustrated Barthes's idea of the cinematic punctum in a number of ways. Timothy Treadwell's moments of tenderness, craziness, and joy are even more poignant when the viewer is simultaneously being exposed to his (very violent) death. And I would certainly say that there were moments that "pricked" or "bruised" me; there were moments in the films which struck me in a way that isn't really traceable or exactly symbolic. But assuming that the viewer in this relationship is putting herself at risk of wound, making herself vulnerable, it must be kept in mind that these shots are not all candid and off-the-cuff.

Herzog makes a point of showing Treadwell's tendency to try several takes of a monologue, often showing the out-takes. While he praises Treadwell's ability as a filmmaker, how does this inclusion function? While Treadwell certainly made himself vulnerable before the camera and was a willing subject of the camera's gaze, is this the equivalent of Keenan's example of being shot while supposedly safely looking out of a window? Are these outtakes private? The exposure of these takes seems contrary to Treadwell's intentions as a filmmaker and as a subject, and Herzog's use of these shots even lead some critics to believe that Herzog wants the audience to see Treadwell as crazy or a buffoon.

It seems to me that this is also an obvious link to La Jetee, although the intrusion into private space is used more malevolently there. This is also not to accuse Herzog; I felt much more sympathetic to Treadwell after seeing the film than I would have thought before seeing it. And seeing Herzog's respect for the audio tape of Treadwell and Amie's death suggests an acknowledgement of a private sphere, or if not that, then a desire to avoid a fetishism or use of that real and horrible moment of violence for his own ends. I just wonder how Herzog or we (as individuals, or in society, whatever we want to go for) conceive of those who have died as objects, and how we think that respect for an individual's subjectivity or vulnerability change when that person is no longer alive.

Funny Bear

I was thoroughly impressed with Werner Herzog’s ability to make Grizzly Man funny. Subtle (and at times not so subtle) ironies are sprinkled throughout the movie: for instance, the fact that the bear that could have killed Treatwell was called ‘Rowdy’, or the rather flamboyant references to ‘Mr Chocolate’ and the bears “getting him” – bears here referring to LGBT slang in addition to the actual animals.

While humor obviously plays a very obvious role when we encounter Treadwell’s juxtaposition in his monologues (coming across at best bi-polar, and at worst crazy) I was frustrated by how rehearsed the other characters’ pieces were. The pilot’s story of his discovery of the bears seems overly dramatic: “Each time I flew over the bears started eating faster and faster” he tells, referring to the bears eating Treadwell and his girlfriend’s body. I found that while these pieces were effective for their shock value and while I’m sure Treadwell would have been happy at how polished the final product appeared, I feel that a certain amount of authenticity was lost in the process.

Another Quixotic (?) Search/Desire for the “Absolute”… - Notes

I

I would like to start by asserting that I find the theory that Barthes put forth in Camera Lucida to be extremely compelling, for several reasons.

1.1. Of all the thinkers studied so far on the course, (the late) Barthes seems to be the only one operating with an interesting version of the correspondence theory of truth, as opposed to the coherence one implicit in most of the texts discussed so far – particularly in Saussure. Thus, it appears that, in Barthes, the truth of a photograph (NOT of a proposition, as the traditional correspondence theory requires) presupposes the capturing of the “air” – of the truth of the subject (p. 109), the correspondence between the punctum and the real, between the subject and its image. On account of this, a photograph is almost invariably true “at the level of time” (“a just image”; p.70) – except for those cases in which the spectator is unable to identify the punctum or “the photographer cannot, either by lack of talent or bad luck, supply the transparent soul its bright shadow” (p. 110). Barthes’ implicit theory of truth belongs, therefore, to the realm of (in my view, unfairly discredited in the contemporary world) metaphysics.

1.2. Interestingly, in Camera Lucida, Barthes appears to postulate the “beyond”, attesting for a desire for the “Absolute” (the soul?; the Being?; “Pure” Existence as envisaged by Plato?). Could this “Absolute” be the inaccessible essence of (individual) life – the great un-representable – of which only the “Photograph” can offer a taste?

1.3. The photograph becomes, for Barthes, the (perhaps singular) reliable certification of existence (but does this imply that if something has not been photographed it “has not been” at all?) as well as, perhaps more importantly, a reminder of Death – the (most) fundamental human experience that appears to me to be largely ignored in the contemporary world through all sorts of distraction mechanisms (such as the cinema). Of all media, the "Photograph" is, I agree with Barthes, the one which raises the most powerful awareness about Death and its imminence, and it does so due to three of its defining characteristics: its time-disruptive effect; its “intense immobility” (p. 49); and its silence.

These characteristics are the ones which distinguish the photograph from film. On account of these, I believe – in opposition to Bazin and in line with Barthes – that cinema cannot give punctum, nor does it presuppose a “beyond” or make its spectators aware of Death. In a sense, cinema is the “profane” alternative to photography.

II

One of the most intriguing points Prof. Chun made in the lecture on Wednesday was for me the claim that ethics is a question of the relationship between the self and other and NOT of knowing. Even though my position towards this assertion is ambivalent at the moment (it probably lies somewhere in a “middle” ground), I am deeply surprised by the bitter contemporary “campaign” against knowledge … in an age which is often hailed as “the Age of (largely media-generated) Information”. Despite my reservations about the Socratic tenet that to know the “good” is to be good (at the cornerstone of his ethical theory) and later developed and reconfigured during the Enlightenment, I would argue for the necessity of recognising knowledge as absolute and of “knowing” as an essential component of ethics in order to prevent all discourses (about the self, subjectivity, and others) from “ending up” in the realm of the political and/or the cultural.

III

The screenings for this week: I was particularly fascinated with the idea/presence of the narrator in both La jetee and Grizzly Man. The voice “beyond” the system of images in succession that the films presuppose is, I think, the best approximation of the “Absolute” that cinema can achieve.

IV

Does the Barthesian metaphysical theory formulated in Camera Lucida fit in the web of political and cultural theories dominant in the contemporary world? Is the “Absolute” an out-dated concept?

Photography and Psychoanalysis

The frequent assumptions of what is felt when looking at a photograph that lie behind Barthes' assertions in Camera Lucida are an inherent result of his extremely personal approach to discovering the essence of photography. As someone who is likewise arrested by photographic images, I can honestly say that all of his descriptions rang true to me. However, it still boggles me how photography and film could be so different, since they are in many ways the most similar of the plastic arts. In fact, the very element that makes them most similar (the capture of images on film with a camera) seems to be what creates the most striking difference between them. How can the lens be the defining mediator between the spectator and the image in film, but seems to be almost ignorable in photography? Photography seems to be exempt, for Barthes, from the idea of "the look". I think the answer might have something to do with psychoanalysis, and the similarity in the narrative structure of both film and psychoanalytic scenarios. The narrative structure of film, as opposed to the isolated moment of the photographic image, allies the viewer with the narrative structure of psychoanalysis through the mediation of the lens. In this way, the film lens becomes important as the mechanism for the look, a look which, by being part of a narrative structure, becomes allied with psychoanalysis. Does photography then exist outside the realm of psychoanalysis?

Not quite a nature documentary

Watching the introduction to Grizzly Man, I was somewhat led to believe that the film would be more about bears than anything else. However, obviously the film is a far cry from a nature film. I thought it was especially interesting that they began the movie by explaining that the 'protagonist' was already dead.
I thought that a punctum of sorts was present throughout the movie. After knowing that the main character will eventually die, all of his foibles and ramblings took on a grotesque aspect. Normally, I would have found his demeanor just annoying, especially his delusions of grandeur, but in the context of the film these actions seemed more pungent.
Most interesting (and distressing) was the tape of his own death. What first struck me is that he would, while facing his own mortality in the face of a hungry bear, have the presence of mind to turn on the camera to film his own death. The tape itself seems to represent the height of guilty voyeurism. I so wanted to listen to the tape, yet at the same time did not want anything to do with it. The filmmaker heightened this anticipatory desire by showing himself listening to the tape on camera. I cannot think of many more types of media that are as emotionally powerful as that tape, created by a man in his death- with the lack of video footage creating even more desire and fear in its consumers.

Editing and Photo Creation/Manipulation

Digital photography, Adobe Photoshop, and the RAW file format open up many new possibilities for photographers. Digital photographs only exist as data, 0s and 1s, and can therefore be spread and reproduced by anyone who owns a computer. Photoshop allows you to alter (or "photoshop") these digital photographs, allowing for the creation of images that either appear to be real despite their extrodiary (almost magical) nature, or are clearly "removed" from reality, existing in manner similar to that of the surrealists. RAW files allow photographers to edit the very settings of the camera used to take the photo, allowing for the adjustment of exposure, white balance, and color after the actual photo. While artists are busy exploring the possibilites of these techniques/tools, others find themselves scrambling to understand the implications of these techniques on the traditional notion that photographs represent reality (or, as Bazin states, that the artist in photography is nature, not humans) and trying to defend themselves against the issues digital techniques create.

Journalism, in particular, has been struggling to understand how to react to photography in 0s and 1s, particularly because it threatens the conception of "truth" that journalism strives to represent. The National Press Photographer Association has lain out a code of ethics, stating that photographers "do not manipulate images [...] that can mislead viewers or misrepresent subjects." This seeks to defend against the manipulation of the "real" that tools such as the image fulgurator use and draw attention to, in the fear that altering an image will cause those who view it to believe in an alternate version of history. Altering a photo can also add new implications to it; on the Time cover highlighting O.J. Simpson, removing the color saturation and "burning" the edges in what may have seemed to Time to be a way to add suspense, but ended up sparking a controversy over racism. The racist undertones that many saw in the image could have greatly changed perceptions of the events by mythologizing it. However, this power was diffused by Newsweek, who featured the unaltered photo on their cover. While the ability to recognize this type of photo manipulation was only given through subtractive abilities (this one is the original, therefore this one is not), photoshopping leaves behind noticable traces; pixels can be left out of place, or two locations in a photo may appear exactly the same. These aspects seem to diffuse whatever danger photoshopping may posses; they turned Iran's photos of missles into a popular meme, as these signs revealed the falseness of the photograph:


This means that the potential danger of photoshopping is undermined and perhaps negated by the mark it leaves and bestows upon the "original" photograph.
But again, not all editing is like this. In the case of the O.J. Simpson photograph, various elements in the actual chemical process (the process of creation) were altered to adjust the color of the image. RAW format digital photography makes this even easier, and even allows for greater control. However, if photography is not a "human" art, if the artist of photography is (as Bazin puts it) nature itself, how is it possible that, through use of various photographic techniques (in both the production and post-production phrases), one can manipulate a photograph and completely transform it so easily?
The danger becomes even more palpable with the discovery of photographs that have been vastly altered without use of digital techniques, that in fact pre-date computers? After purging various cabinet members and government officials, Stalin had them removed from photographs, hoping to erase them from "reality":

While he obviously couldn't erase them all from the "real" (due to both his actual existance and the inability of Stalin to destroy originals), one cannot deny that he was successful, to a certain degree; by displaying photographs in which the offender was suddenly absent, Stalin was able to make the public question his existance (as well as their memory).
There is a reason for this, one that both Barthes and Bazin tend to not discuss: photography is a human invention, a human tool. Bazin even goes as far as to separate the human from the photo, something that is impossible due to the inherent nature of "tools." Human agency is responsible for the creation of the photograph, and while the elements of the photo may be formed by nature, it is the photographer who frames the shot, adjusts exposure, and develops the photo. As these three examples show, this means that the "reality" that finds its way into the photograph can easily be manipulated by humans. It is the photographer who decides what to photograph, how to photograph it, how to develope and structure the physical copy, and ultimately which images should be preserved and should represent reality in the minds of the future.

Class Accidents and Car Struggles.

One of my favorite scenes in Weekend was the scene with tractor and convertible accident. You know, because I just love class struggles. As the tractor rolls across the frame, before the collision, you can hear that he is singing the Internationale, the socialist/communist anthem that originated in France. That was my first clue that this was going to be more than just an automobile accident. (And then the intertitle “Class Struggle” appeared and I really, really knew). Of course, the argument about who had the right of way quickly metamorphosed into which person lives the right lifestyle and each critiquing the economic decisions the other made. Godard clearly sides with the socialist, having the bourgeois woman making ridiculous statements about what she did with her husband. By the end, the woman and the farmer join the crowd of people who appeared to be watching the scene from in front of a collection of advertisements, and the Internationale plays again. This kind of mimics what happens at the end of the film when Corinne joins the band of revolutionaries after her husband is dead. And on a broader note, it reflects the whole message, and purpose, of the film.

This scene also plays into the bigger motif of car accidents. We see it right from the beginning when the thought of both Corinne’s parents and husband dying in traffic accidents comes up within the span of a minute. And then we hear Roland talking about he wants Corinne to die in the same way. And of course when the couple kills Corinne’s mother, they must burn her body... in a car. The car is a symbol of capitalism. It is expensive and something that the world can see and judge you by. So, how better to assert your right to a free market than to totally disobey traffic laws and common courtesy like Corinne and Roland do in the scene on the long stretch of road. And probably all of the audience has a car. One cannot help but think about their car being damaged in an accident, whether it is the small tap that occurs in the beginning of the film or the huge fire than destroys Corinne’s Hermes handbag (which is clearly more upsetting than all of the people who were destroyed in all of the prior accidents they just drive by). All of the accidents feed into the displeasure for the viewer. The accidents, the mangling of cars, are metaphorically the destruction of consumer society which is the goal of counter-cinema.

Pleasure vs. Unpleasure

Weekend can be described as a black comedy film that uses dark humor as a way to pleasure the audience. The film spins every aspect of "normal" cinematics and does not try to entertain the spectator, but tries to change the spectator. Godard turns away from normal cinema and changes the way he presents his fantasy in his film. he tries to connect his film on many different levels, and this is complicated. Roland and Corrine are an example of how he takes the normal pleasures of a married couple and tries to bring out the humor in their absurdities as people. What is normal cinema of a married couple? Is it one falling in love with the other and living happily ever after? Or is it them slowly killing the father to receive his inheritance? Or the constant showing of dead bodies as if they are just objects lving to please the main charatcers? Cinema is designed to create this fantasy toward the spectator where they image themselves doing something that is an idea, not real. As long as the image is there, you cannot eliminate it. The crude images shown in the film are trying to provoke the spectator into imagining an image similar to that in the film as if they were the antagonist, thus creating a negative feeling toward cinema resulting in an unpleasurement. However, if one likes the ideas dark comedy represent, then they would see the scenario as pleasurement. They are connected in the way that if one makes you happy, its pleasure and if it doesn't, its not.

Pleasure and Violence

It seemed to me that Weekend is, in many ways, full of extremes. I giggled a lot, I was surprised a few times, and there were certainly some moments of displeasure or digust. I was wondering what everyone thought were the most and least pleasurable moments of the film. What made those moments such? There are so many different kinds of humor and violence in the film, I'd just like to know what people responded to. Also, I'm secretly just wondering if anyone got the same kick out of the interaction with the singing guy in the phonebooth that I did. On a related note, do you think that the film's reception is important in a way similar to Third Cinema's? Obviously I don't feel like I'm part of a guerrilla group for having watched it, but I think that the group experience made the film more interesting. Would anyone else agree?

Appealing to Everyone

Timothy Corrigan notes in his piece 'A Cinema Without Walls Movies and Culture' after Vietnam that cinematic investments made in Hollywood, especially those made after 1970, aimed to "attract not just a large market but all markets" (12). Heaven’s Gate, therefore "seemingly appealed to no one because of its attempts to appeal to everyone" (12). As I was reading this piece I was with my housemates who were watching TV, advertisements specifically. I couldn’t help but wonder to what degree we were being targeted (any rational commercial will attempt to appeal to the largest market possible), and to what degree I could see through them? Taking it a step further, how much can political candidates ‘appeal to everyone’ without losing voters? Attracting large markets is a thin line to walk, and while VCR technology has allowed for movies like Heaven’s Gate to be “watched across the distractions rather than the collective gaze of its audiences,” (16) I’m not sure if this is the solution.

Technology and Evolution of Cinema

In Corrigan's article, he seems to be in a state of despair at the current films being created. He states that the creation of special effects have primarily enacted a change in the way that films are shown, yet the narratives of these films are ultimately the same (or inferior) to films created prior to the crutch of technology. The "fetishizing" of the film styles puts people into a comfortable state where they can go to the movie theater, and expect to see something that will be generally pleasing to them.
While I think that this viewpoint is certainly interesting, and perhaps correct in some ways I am not convinced that it completely represents the current state of mainstream filmmaking. Certainly many films do fit into similar basic narratives, but this seems bound to happen as similarites are impossible to avoid. And I will admit that many films do rely on a set audience, appealing to them with explosions and movie stars. But even with these films being created, what about the mainstream movies that do represent innovation? It seems to me that Corrigan didn't mention the benifits that technology has on constructing new experiences and ways of seeing things. New stylistic devices and effects do create a new way of seeing things, and there are innovative plot lines even in the blockbuster class. Cookie cutter movies may be the norm, but I dont think cinema has been negativly affected by heightened technology.

Weekend: I giggled, but so what?

I had a really fun time watching Weekend, but afterward when I was hanging around with fellow viewers I found that there was more to laugh about than to discuss. To me, this reaction seemed to uphold Wollen's view of Godard's mode of counter-cinema as a launching point rather than a cinematic end-in-itself. It certainly had an initial impact on me. It felt liberating to watch; the lack of conventional rules refreshed the medium of film for me, offering a sense of expanded space and possibility. The instability of the film-- the sudden switches between pain/pleasure, narrative/free-film, live-action/text-- provided a new system of navigating through the "film world," the sea of cinematographic possibilities. I felt like the boat had been sunk and I had been dropped into the ocean with a strange new set of flippers with which to paddle around.

Perhaps this is enough to constitute good film, but I certainly agree with Wollen that it is one essential part of a continuum of pushing cinema boundaries-- my question is, what next? 

Second Cinema is Cool

In Wollen's article, he notes that Godard, falling within the modernist tradition, is "suspicious of the power of the arts--and the cinema, above all--to 'capture' its audience without apparently making it think, or changing it." Yet Wollen acknowledges that "[the spectator's] attention may get lost altogether," while being led along counter-cinema's fractured narratives. Making a spectator think is one way to lose his/her attention, causing a sort of self-defeating displeasure--displeasure can not only adjust viewpoint but halt the act of viewing. I think this speaks to Wollen's point that Godard's counter-cinema is not a definition but a beginning point, and that images cannot present truths, only meanings. Godard's counter-cinema is not the be-all end-all answer to Hollywood cinema; it does not repair but challenge it. I think ultimately, though, Godard's act of challenging Hollywood cinema through a set of contrary features is but a method at which he arrives at the same results of closure, pleasure, fiction, and identification as does Hollywood cinema. If he does not lose the spectator through his unorthodox approach (a threat Wollen acknowledges) the spectator is rewarded with the juicy satisfaction of "getting it." On a less intellectual level, even, the disconnected vignettes offer absurd humor and beautiful women (despite their presentation in long shots as opposed to close-ups). In this way, I think Godard's cinema can be compared to the reading for this week, Camera Lucida, in which Barthes distinguishes between the pornographic (nothing to hide) and the erotic, which elicits pleasure from the very fact of concealment. The eroticism of counter-cinema, the titillating fascination with something not easily given away, something uncommon and out-of-reach (vs. the pornographic, easy accessibility of Hollywood presentations) is something the Third Cinema authors point to with contempt. In the end, then, I think the description of Godard's counter-cinema is both an outline of significant challenges to mainstream film and also a perfect example of why Third Cinema-makers found Second Cinema to be as limited, commodifiable and relatable as First Cinema.

Parody/Autonomy

After watching Godard’s film Weekend, my first impulse was to identify it as “pure” parody (the integration of various historic figures such as Saint-Just, or of fictional characters into the film as well as the self-referential dimension of the film clearly indicate the parodic aspect). The implication in this line of thinking was that, as parody, the film cannot have autonomy, and, as a result, it cannot represent the hailed (autonomous!) alternative cinema (“counter-cinema”) that Wollen writes about. At a more careful consideration of the film and after reading the essays for this week, I realized, however, that there is more to Godard’s film than just parody. The deliberate inversion of the key aspects of "orthodox" cinema (identified by Wollen and discussed in the lecture) account for an – I am tempted to say somewhat surreal as well as original, though I am aware of the paradox of asserting the originality of parody – arrangement of the “material” in the film that gives it autonomy. In my view, Godard found a (very simple) recipe for a new type of cinema that works on the principle of “denunciation” and that, most importantly, is autonomous despite the fact that it “feeds on” other cultural products. The essence of Godard’s success lies, I believe, in the consistent denunciation of (and departure from) all the principles of "orthodox" cinema, with the result of obtaining something "new" that, in a sense, incorporates the “old” by representing its reversal.

Political statement/Intellectual game

But is this “new” completely – or even reasonably – comprehensible? In my view, in Weekend there are bits of “information” (I am not sure how compatible this term is with a Godardian film) deliberately missing (such as the circumstances of the kidnapping of the protagonists, for example) as well as elements that appear to be redundant (in fact, a great deal of the film may appear thus, if the Godardian system of symbols is not fully grasped). These deny access to the meanings of the film for all except a few “privileged” spectators. The question that then arises is: is Weekend (and Godard’s counter-cinema) a political statement or merely an intellectual game? Because of the references to the “class struggle” – which, I believe, is being parodied; to a state of affairs that is up-side-down and in dysfunction suggested by the symbol/metaphor of the cars involved in accidents; and because of the obvious (postmodern) fragmentation in the film (at all levels, particularly at that of the narrative), I think it is undeniable that Godard’s counter-cinema has a political dimension. On the other hand, because of the randomness it involves and the principle of “reversal” it is based upon, it is also undeniable that the film is an intellectual game. Therefore, I would conclude that Weekend (and Godardian counter-cinema) is an intellectual game that counts as a political statement. How is that possible? Isn’t that a contradiction? I think not: the two are perfectly compatible provided that the political statement is postmodern (relativist and centered on representation), as I find it to be - even though I am aware that Godard identified himself as Marxist-Leninist.

The Definition of Quotation/ Politics?

1. "Godard, however, uses quotation in a much more radical manner" (Wollen 78).
I liked Weekend. But something about me likes Buñuel better... but we haven't screened Buñuel, so I'll stay away from comparisons.
I like Godard because he poses a lot of excellent questions. The first thing that strikes my mind is the use of "quotations." Wollen defines/Godard uses quotations in a very theatrical way; the actors merely read the words of someone else, whether they are reciting a famous speech or reading the lines of a script, written by someone different than themselves. However, to me this cannot be "true quotation"; the actors may not have control over the words they say, but in varying pitch, tone, speed and other qualities (qualities not dictatated by the "quote"), they can distort the quotation into something very different (see John Cage's Empty Words (parte III)). Within Weekend, the quotation is made obvious by characters acting in absurd ways that don't seem to connect to the period of the central characters of the film. This brings of the question of definition: how exactly do we define "quotation"?
Given Godard's love for displacement, it's suprising he didn't use another form of quotation, that is, direct quotation of film. This would entail creating a film constructed entirely of clips/quotes of other films reconstructed, reconfiguered, and remixed together. Things like this have already been done, but mostly in the music world, where it is easy to mix together recordings/samples/quotations to form a new whole. From that end, it seems as if the results can vary widely, from the deconstruction of pop culture from a quantifyable mass to a series of texts and objects that can be reapropriated, manipulated, and played with (a tactic that started with Steinski and has expanded to include the Dust Brothers and Girl Talk, and has also been used to more radical/absurdist ends by Negativland), or used to "rebirth" old recordings, constructing a new ideology by restructuring those that have been forgoten or ignored in the past (the whole crate digging movement; it's worth mentioning that recient "crate diggers" such as Madlib and Daedelus have begun manipulating their samples to radical/absurdist ends, making it nearly impossible to recognize the source, or even what instrument a sampled phrase is). There are other ways of manipulating sonic "quotations" as well, such as the DJ set, but while these certainly apply to film, the DJ set still (for the most part) depends heavily on the individual fragments (hence the importance of the set list; again, it's worth noting that people like Richie Hawtin have begun deconstructing this notion (see DE9: Transisitions)). While a lot of work has been done since Godard of this type, I do not know of a film that has been constructed entirely from other pieces of film and has influenced the film community. While "remixes" of both Gone With the Wind and Birth of a Nation are interesting first steps in this direction, there is still much that can be done here.
As a quick side note, I can't help but feel the music example in the last paragraph marks this post as separate from those posts that seem to go much deeper theoretically. So, I'll pose these questions: can you separate film and music today/where is the line between them? Does film rely upon audio aspects (including music: notice that even Godard made use of soundtracking, and that soundtracks used to be a location for intense experimentation (the soundtrack of The Twilight Zone, as cliché as it might sound, is a great example), or can music create any impact beyond emotional without use of imagery or some visual component/why is the live performance privaledged over isolated recordings? How has the creation of films (and the use of music within films) transformed music?
2. A Political Godard(Question Mark?)
There are two threads of commentary within the blog posts that seem strangely complementary to me. Ioana says that Godard is parodying the "class struggle," and others believe that Godard's revolutionary/second cinema was constrained in its political power, a fact that forced the makers of third cinema to seek a new form/a new aesthetic with which they could create revolution and fight against (neo)colonialism. What should we make of this opposition, and what (if anything) could this tell us about both the makers of third cinema, third cinema itself, and Second Cinema (was its intent to be revolutionary, if this is the case)?

Masculine/Femine and Feminine/Masculine (re)Construction

Even though waiting this long technically puts me past the time limit, I'm beginning to think it's nice as it gives me a chance to react/respond to everyone else. Like Geoff, I find myself drawn to respond to Ioana, but for different reasons.

In her response, Ioana asks:

"Why is the concept of 'Man' as cultural construct not addressed or, at most, addressed only by implication?"

I have several responses: first, as Geoff mentioned, the nature of gender relations means that deconstructionist comments/attacks on feminine identity also deconstruct male identity. Like Keenan's public and private sphere, male/female identity cannot exist without female/male identity. Because the feminine subject is subjugated by the masculine, male identity is defined by this dominant relationship. Remove the subjugated side of the dichotomy and the dichotomy falls apart. One cannot exist without the other. Of course, this assumes that these two are separate entities, existing on separate ends of the dichotomy...

Next, I'll start with a quote from Geoff:

Feminism's "disempowerment" of women by stripping them of their "woman" status seems absurd, as feminism does not leave women without new status/labeling/"subjectness. I would argue that the act of critique creates a new space which in itself offers a definition for women.

I fully agree (I also apologize for the continued italics, Blogger seems to be broken at the moment). Deconstruction's goal is suppossedly to fully deconstruct/undermine/destroy a structure or metaphysical assumption. While you could argue that this would create a blank space, I'd argue that this argument is pointless; Derrida himself has admitted that "true" deconstruction is impossible, meaning that his work falls somewhat short and therefore must be different (despite the sameness). In fact, the creation of the term "deconstruction" to describe Derrida's work most likely holds him back; by attaching a signifier to his work, Derrida is limited and contained. In this case, the question becomes not "what is the result of ideal deconstruction" but "what is the result of all deconstructive work that has been done and can be done." In the creation of a "deconstruction," writers are forced to "construct" a "deconstructive text," which simultaneously deconstructs a structure/metaphysical assumption and re-builds/structures/constructs it into something different and (ideally) better. Take for example deconstructive architecture; by subverting the idea of "purely functional" architecture, deconstruction revealed the artistry inherent within the field and allowed it to bloom independently, allowing for works such as those of Frank Gehry (horrible example, I know, but it's the one everyone here is most familiar with), that can both convey meaning outside of its intended use and subvert the implied end results of urbanization and gentrification.
Deconstruction (as it is actually utilized) cannot exist without a (re)construction, and therefore must create a new subject in its attack on the old both to act as a instrument for agency to act through and to take the place of the old subject. What's interesting is that it is both new yet exists in the same space as the old (or perhaps displaces the space of the old to somewhere else; the location of the space is irreleveant here, as most (if not all) variables), both a deconstruction and a reconstruction. It is effective because it is able to frustrate dichotomies in both its creation and its methods.

Well, I need an ending, and this appears to be it. My response seemed to become less of a response to the reading and more towards the section, but if not here then in section. I look forward to hearing responses.

Violence to the Self

Both of the films from this week are very concerned with violence done to the self for many reasons and in many forms. In Old Boy, this takes the form of actual physical mutilation, as well as the psychological punishment and guilt. In the Aimless Bullet, we see both the endurance of pain as a form of sacrifice (the toothache). How does this self-flagellation play into the crisis of masculinity as explored in the readings? Is this a part of hypermasculinity? The objectification of the self? Engaging the viewer's sadistic side (especially in Old Boy)?

Responding to the Accusation of Nonbeing

I originally was going to discuss the implications of Doane's writing on larger feminist aims in a broad way, but Ioana has provided a great framework within which I can offer my position with more clarity. She offered in her post the following notion:

"...the feminist denunciatory/deconstructing discourses of the past decades have by no means solved the problem, but converted the mentioned lack into incapacity. The “liberated” (non-)subjects cannot produce autonomous symbolic representation that Doane hopes for either. "

Ioana brings up a common argument brought against post-modernist thought-- that such persistent deconstruction produces a sort of discursive paralysis.

I think, that the feminist discourse of deconstruction has been anything but unproductive in its deconstruction of the "woman" and "man." (Note: I think that Ioana's assertion that feminism is fixated on the "in one go" decimation of "woman" with no attention to "man" [leaving him "intact"] does not hold up in light of the body of work present on the deconstruction of man in feminist literature. Also, on a theoretical level, even if a feminist work is in the end fixated on "woman" identity, the unravelling of "woman" inevitably comments upon and deconstructs "man"-- such is the specific relationship of our gender dualism.) The accusation of paralysis does not seem to hold up to empirics, which offer examples of female liberation as directly proceeding from feminist theory (sexual empowerment, marriage redefinition, reproductive rights, etc.).

I find no reason to consider feminism as a means of perpetuating female subjugation. Feminism's "disempowerment" of women by stripping them of their "woman" status seems absurd, as feminism does not leave women without new status/labeling/"subjectness." I would argue that the act of critique creates a new space which in itself offers a definition for women.

The work of Doane, in my view, provides an important deconstructive analysis of gender, which I find by no means to be self-defeating or perpetuating female disempowerment. As for its alleged paralyzing effect, I argue that to not discuss this dynamic would be a far more immobilizing position.

Cultural Constructs and Discourse(s). (Non)being

In the Monday lecture, Jeremy confidently gave two positive answers to the questions I asked: “Is Woman a cultural construct?”; “Is Man a cultural construct?”. Yes… I completely agree! In fact, I realized shortly after posing these questions that they are, in a way, tautological: the concept of “gender” has reconfigured the notions of “Woman”-“Man” (or, more specifically, female-male) to mean precisely cultural constructs that stand in a – rather ambiguous – relation of correspondence to “sex”. However, Jeremy’s answers made me acknowledge an already known (to me) fact as well as become aware of another issue: the vast majority of the texts we have dealt with in this course lately are concerned with denouncing/deconstructing “Woman” as a cultural construct. But what about “Man”? Why is the concept of “Man” as cultural construct not addressed or, at most, addressed only by implication?

In my view, the feminists’ (which is, I know, a very broad category) centering of their discourses on the denunciation/deconstruction of “Woman” as cultural construct created by men at the expense of that of “Man” as a cultural construct is not a very inspired choice. That is because an approach of this kind undermines women’s identity (however culturally constructed that might be) – and it does so at once (“in one go”). The result is disempowerment, for a “subject” without identity is, I believe, a non-subject incapable of engaging in action of any type (and, especially, political). Instead of a gradual deconstruction of the “Woman” cultural category accompanied by a simultaneous rebuilding of the category from a feminist perspective, feminist discourse(s) destroy the patriarchal “Woman” cultural construct, leaving the “Man” construct virtually intact.

In her essay The Desire to Desire, Mary Ann Doane discusses a lack of female autonomous symbolic representation – particularly regarding female spectatorship – as characteristic of the pre-deconstruction (feminist) age. In the light of the points made above, I would argue, however, that the feminist denunciatory/deconstructing discourses of the past decades have by no means solved the problem, but converted the mentioned lack into incapacity. The “liberated” (non-)subjects cannot produce the autonomous symbolic representation that Doane hopes for either.

My conclusion: feminist approaches might have “unintended” consequences detrimental to the very goals of the feminist discourse(s).

Clarification

In Critical and Textual Hypermasculinity on page 157 paragraph 2 states;

"Several theories have noted that consumer culture and the culpable masses blamed for its existence have often been figured as feminine. Tania Modleski examines this aspect of historical accounts and emphasizes the problems involved in either simply condemning or celebrating these feminine inscriptions. Andreas Hyssen has also explored attacks on sentimental culture0slurs based on fears of the engulfing ooze of the masses which provoked the "reaction formation" of a virile and authorial modernism. Yet he concludes hisd analysis by claiming that such gendered rhetoric has diminished with the decline of modernisms. " mass culture and the masses as feminine threat-such notions belong to another age. Jean Bauldrillaurds recent ascriptions of femininity to the masses notwithstanding."

I was wondering if we could possibly make this section clearer for me because I read it many times and still don't understand it.

"Gold Teeth and the Curse of This Town"

Something that I found very interesting is that in both movies, there is some kind of tooth extraction, and in both instances, the extraction ages the character or is supposed to. In Stray Bullet, the man seems to become older once he gets his rotten tooth pulled, and the taxi drivers even bully him and call him “old man.” In Old Boy, when Oh Dae Su pulls out all of the man’s teeth with a hammer, he says, “With each tooth I pull out, you will age one year.” This motif of aging also extends into the name Evergreen, as in a tree who’s leaves never die. The hypnotist also says that the monster half of Oh Dae Su will take 70 steps, each step being a year, until it dies. The name of the film itself echoes it as well. Does the concept of aging and/or tooth extraction have a certain connotation in Korean film, or is it just a coincidence that both films we screened use it? Does aging tie into the concept of damaged bodies and therefore the waning of masculinity?

Polarization

Joyrich seems to polarize television as either being intrinsically feminine or hypermasculine, with little leeway between the two. She assumes that only women have difficulty separating subject and object which raises two questions: are all women supposed to weep during a typical tear-jerker ('The Notebook'?) and secondly, are men immune to projecting themselves onto the characters on screen? Furthermore, Joyrich brings up the example of 'Miami Vice' as a show of male excess which she sees as a direct retaliation to female oriented viewing like soap operas. I found this argument to be equally dividing. While the points Joyrich makes are interesting, I feel as if she sticks to the far ends of the spectrum, allowing for a clear argument but not necessarily a realistic one.

Gender in television?

While reading Lynne Joyrich's article on the perceived genderfication of television, i found myself constantly asking myself whether her examples really did represent a subtle pass towards feminization or if it was just a too far reaching analysis. While the note about televison catering towards women in the case of soap operas, wrapping them in as a passive audience, made some sense, the critique of the out-dated televison show Max Headroom fell short for me.

While the arguement that the choice of a woman and a child as assitants was interesting to me, and perhaps could represent a leaning in a gender-oriented direction, the notion that a fat man watching tv and then exploding- represented the feminine nature of televison threw me off.

I would certainly agree that roles portrayed by women and men within the context of television shows do show a bias in terms of sexuality, i do no think that it is the medium of televison in itself that causes this or adds to it. I am not entirely familiar with programming pre-1990, because i wasnt watching tv at that point, i feel that many modern shows behave in the same way that cinema does. And the ones that dont, (game shows, reality shows, sit coms) do represent a voyeuristic intent, but still do not come across to me as inherently feminine. Hopefully someone can point out what I am missing about this analysis.

The Humanity of Kong

After class Wednesday, a friend and I had a discussion over the Snead essay. While the role of sexism in the portrayal of Ann was obvious to both of us, the role of racism was not as easy for us to pin down. Again, we both agreed that the portrayal of the natives was formed from racism (especially since there are no shots from their point of view, which sets them apart from all other characters in the film), but disagreed over King Kong. My friend felt as if King Kong couldn't have been pure racism, simply because she felt a connection to Kong; despite Kong's supposed identity of "monster," his humanness (which Snead does mention in the essay) allow viewers to sympathize with him. He was only trying to protect Ann throughout most of the film, and (to her) had a degree of innocence about him at all times that prevented him from comprehending the rules of the society he found himself in. His innocent love for the "beauty" was what allowed Denham to destroy him.

However, I feel as if this interpretation is a little too simple, and ignores some of the very valid points brought up by Snead. However, it contains some points Snead seemed to pass over quickly or ignore, such as the implications of the "humanness" of Kong. One of the main things that surprised me while watching the film were the differences between this version and Peter Jackson's (which I had seen beforehand). In Jackson's, Ann comes to sympathize with Kong, which gives the final moments of the film a very palpable sorrow at the death of Kong. She pleads with Denham to not capture Kong, to leave him be. In this case, Jackson has taken the themes seen by my friend and brought them into the open, avoiding the problems inherent in the original's ignorance of them. In the original, absolutely no one sympathizes with Kong; the natives live in fear of him and worship him as a god (in a way that carries tones of pageanism), Ann simply screams the entire time she is around Kong (which, as my friend pointed out, is a very reasonable response to being carried around by a giant gorrila, but, when placed in opposition with Jackson's film, is rather striking, especially in Ann's total lack of any sympathy (replaced instead by joy) when Kong dies), and Denham merely uses him as a blank signified, open to whatever signifier Denham desires to place upon him (most apparent is the signifier of "beast," but also race). While the audience can feel sympathy for Kong, they (within the context of the film) are completely alone in doing so. By throwing the audience into conflict with "society," the directors of Kong assure that whatever dangerous potential this sympathy has is quickly subverted and redirected towards Ann and Jack.

But, if we choose to see Kong as a figure constructed by racism (due to most, if not all of the reasons presented by Snead), this sympathy and implied humanity is even more dangerous and destructive. By making Kong appear nearly human, it is that much easier to associate him with the "Black man," a person who appears similar to the "White man" but has a major and dangerous difference/"impurity" revealed by skin color. In this light, Kong appears human, but is not fully human; we cannot see ourselves as his equals because, despite his innocence, is still a monster, and wrecks havoc when allowed to roam freely through the "civilized" world. The implications of this should be clear.

Also dangerous are the sexual images associated with Kong, specifically removing Ann's clothing and snatching her from her wedding bed. While there is a sense of innocence inherent in these actions (again, the argument that Kong is innocent and does not understand what he is doing is very applicable), this does not provide a reason as to why these specific images are used and repeated. As Jackson's film shows, there are many other ways to show Kong's innocence that do not involve implicit sexuality.
In this case, we can assume that the sexual implications of these sequences are intended. These images (as Snead notes) are somewhat reminicient of racist characterizations in films such as "The Birth of a Nation," where a girl falls off a cliff and to her death in an attempt to escape from a black man who desires to marry her by force. However, unlike "Birth of a Nation," the sexuality in "Kong" is not concerned with marraige; while the black man in "Birth of a Nation" never mentions sex, merely marraige (which implies sex, but also hides it and represses it), Kong is explicitly sexual. Also, we actually see from the point of view of Kong as he removes clothing from Ann. This is why I agree with Snead in his assertion that the figure of Kong provides a place for us to project our repressed fantasies and guilt. This is the second purpose Kong's humanness plays. These two seemingly opposing purposes do intersect; when Kong is shot off the Empire State Building, we are forced to recognize the otherness inherent in the monster and become even more resolute in repressing our fantasies and guilts, as unleashing them upon the world will have the same effect as unleashing other races. It cleanly strenghtens the connection between race and sexuality; that "dangerous" races also contain "uninhibited" and "monsterous" sexuality.

Enlightenment?

I was particularly interested in the role of light in Rear Window. Jeffries uses light as a tool and weapon: without it he is powerless. Illumination is an intrinsic factor of film, especially in a voyeuristic genre. For example, the newlywed couple across the courtyard always has their blinds drawn with the light perturbing through. Yes, they’re having sex; but no, we can’t see it. This relates to Keenan’s Windows discourse on the separation of public and private. Moving on, light is also used as a weapon in the penultimate scene of the movie when Jeffries uses his flash to slow down his defenestration, caused by Lars Thorweld. The role of light is necessary and intrinsic to voyeurism, both in the conscious and subconscious perceptions of it.