This article uses Hegel’s analysis of the Romantic form to elucidate the relationship between aesthetic space and subjectivity in modernist painting (Paul Klee) and cinema (Sergei Eisenstein). The movement that brings art to realization in Hegel thus includes genres and modalities of art that did not exist in his time: in cinema and modernist painting, the Idea or truth of art evolves and brings itself to completion. Plasticity, the movement of aesthetic form toward self-expression, abandons the rigid substantiality it (...) achieves in the Classical era and acquires unprecedented range, depth and resilience. In the Romantic form, the dynamism of the concept surfaces in full force and aesthetic boundaries expand. The emergence here of a new type of visual space is determined by a subjectivity that abandons the concrete, corporeal individuality associated with sculpture (most explicitly in Classical art) and imparts on sensuous form the fluidity of inner life. Music and poetry converge in the visual object which now assumes cinematic modality, a modality that also finds expression in modernist painting. (shrink)

In her 2011 documentary, La Langue de Zahra/Zahra’s Mother Tongue, Algerian/French filmmaker Fatima Sissani “gives voice” to her Kabyle mother, Zahra, who lived in France as an immigrant woman for years after Algerian independence without speaking French. Often considered uneducated and ignorant, these women act as archives of oral tradition, history, and poetry in a language their children often do not speak. In this paper, I will look at how this performative documentary film creates “spaces in-between” cultures through its uses (...) of performance, orality, and cinematic space. A number of recent Maghrebi and sub-Saharan African documentaries have emerged that can be described as performative documentaries in which historical evocation and emotive connection to the subject matter is as important to the filmmaker as factual referencing. The filmmaker plays a self-reflexive role in the text, which often shapes the content.It is important to note that the film is not about being forced to choose between two ge... (shrink)

This article analyses the British TV drama Warriors, investigating military masculinities and their cinematic attachments to specific nationhoods. The author’s main argument is that Warriors engages in a negotiation of ontological differences through production of military masculinities, situated within specific time–space coordinates. The story of the war is told using the classical war movie genre, underpinned by a tripartite gendered discourse that links feminization, victimhood and peace, on the one side, with two kinds of military masculinities, on the (...) other side: first, the heroic-moral-military masculinity of the protector and defender and second, the vicious-ethnic-military masculinity of the ‘local’ men. As the drama’s characters stand for the specific symbolic geographies and histories, we see different ontological worlds appearing. Among them Bosnia – represented through viciousness of local masculinities and victimhood of local femininities – becomes a specific, isolated place, the ‘symbolic continent’ of the Balkans, whose singular, violent geography is separated from Europe and the West, through Orientalist and Balkanist discourses. Furthermore, it is a place with a past but no future, wherein moral geographies of peacekeeping military masculinities translate into ontologies of Self and Other. (shrink)

The proposed article is aimed at conceptualizing the phenomenon of cinematic presence, as well as the search for possible components for its formation in the viewing experience. Presence, considered in the context of intersubjective interaction, will be viewed as a characteristic of the specific bodily relationships between the cinema and the viewers, as well as an essential aspect of the cinema itself. After analyzing both the fundamental texts theorizing this concept and the theoretical work of modern researchers in the (...) field of cinema, as well as turning to experimental practices and slow cinema, the author deduces her own concept of cinematic presence. The article rejects the notion of presence as a state of involvement in the diegetic world. Instead, the author proposes to view it as distanced co-existence which makes it impossible for the viewer to fully immerse in the film space, but there is an opportunity to get an experience specific only to the situation of watching a film. Corporeality in the broader sense of the word plays an important role in the origin of the named experience. The described effect is themed through intimacy and closeness: viewers find themselves in a transit position, becoming a movie, when there is fusion, a loss of a sense of distance from the other, but at the same time the boundaries between their own body and the body of the film are preserved. The main thesis of the article is that the cinematic presence, grasped in the viewers’ experience, reveals itself not only and not much by exposing parts of the cinematic body, although the manifestation of the specific sensuality of the apparatus is the basis for the formation of presence. The experience of a collision with a cinema as such implies the perception of it as another, possessing agency and preventing the full disclosure of its essence. (shrink)

Tracing the many aesthetic, philosophical, and technological parallels between cinema and astronomy, Hannah Goodwin demonstrates how filmmakers have used cosmic imagery and themes to respond to the twentieth century's moments of existential dread. As our outlook on the future continues to change, Stardust illuminates the promise of cinema to bear witness to humanity's fragile existence within the vast expanse of the universe.

In Time, Existential Presence and the Cinematic Image, Sam B. Girgus relates Laura Mulvey's theory of 'delayed cinema' to ideas on time and the relationship to the other in the writings of Jean-Luc Nancy, Emmanuel Levinas and Julia Kristeva, among others. The sustained tension in film between, in Mulvey's phrase, 'stillness and the moving image' enacts a drama of existential emergence. The stillness of the framed image in relation to the moving image opens 'free' cinematic time and (...) class='Hi'>space for a fresh engagement with crucial ethical and cultural issues. With close readings of films such as The Bicycle Thieves, Two Days, One Night, The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, The Revenant and The Age of Innocence, this book proposes a fresh approach to reading film in the context of emerging existential presence and the ethical imperative. (shrink)

Over the last thirty years, once staunchly film history scholars such as Thomas Elsaesser, Jane Gaines, Siegfried Zielinski, André Gaudreault and Benoît Turquety (to name just a few) have abandoned history for historiography and film studies for media archaeology. Considering the heightened attention given to kulturtechnik (Siegert), the database as a dominant symbolic metaphor,1 and the decentered networked tenants of the postmodern global present, cinema is taking on the characteristics of new media, existing in increasingly intertextual space. Thus, the (...) term “post-cinema” has been co-opted as a viable intermediary that accounts for new media conditions, as cinema is no longer emblematic of our cultural climate. It was once presaged in 1992 that “[t]he end of the cinema truly sounds the death knell of the ultimate metaphysical adventure of Dasein. In the twilight of post-cinema, of which we are seeing the beginning, human quasi-existence, now stripped of any metaphysical hypostasis and deprived of any theological model, will have to seek its proper generic consistency elsewhere.” Accordingly, we are no longer “moviegoing animals” who seek images of ourselves among a collective in the dark but, rather, users interfacing within a network of moving images. By locating post-cinema within the semblance of social media, we are allocated a newfound series of theoretical interventions, the most marked of which is that of media archeology vis-à-vis dialectical materialism. This is a lens through which Brian Winston has recently deftly decried Virtual Reality’s “empathy machine” utopic illusionism, bolstered by Chris Milk and a slew of neurohumanities researchers, steadily maintaining that the fundamental myth of “technologies of seeing” is in disguising “their artifice, their cultural formation and their ideological import.” However, this approach, which illuminates the bifurcation between Max Horkheimer/Theodor Adorno and Walter Benjamin, neglects what Benjamin identified as occurring to the work of art in the age of its technological reproducibility—a shift from a technology’s “cult value,” associated with the unique work, to its “exhibition value,” associated with the social act of viewing as part of a mass. Speaking to this divarication, Benjamin Barber, in Strong Democracy, foresaw new media’s two-fold potential—as they are organized and networked, new media and communications technologies possess the possibility to both energize citizen information and political participation but, simultaneously, to supplement the deterioration of public debate. As evinced by Mark Adrejevic’s concept of Infoglut, this two-pronged possibility has only been exacerbated by the interlocking relationship between the advent of a “glut” of information, post-truth politics, the demise of symbolic efficiency, and a renewed focus on the role of affect and emotion as “alternative modalities for thinking about the role of communication in a post-referential era.” Manuel Castells qualifies Barber’s pessimism, noting that the Internet can “be an appropriate platform for informed, interactive politics, stimulating political participation.. […] beyond the closed doors of political institutions,” but that the Internet, like any technology, “is shaped by its uses and users.” Thus, if there exists a positive correlation between exposure to post-cinema media artifacts and political participation, then I seek to explore the revelatory political possibilities of “exhibition value” by way of a particular “post-cinema” case study: the Marxist-Leninist Turkish hacktivist group Redhack’s YouTube-circulated documentary RED! (2013), a project that demanded—by way of the moving-image—to galvanize cyberprotest and democratize a “hacktivist commons. (shrink)

The central premise of this book is that biblical Hebrew narrative, in terms of its structure, tends to operate under similar mechanical constraints to those of a stage-play; wherein space is central, characters are fluid, and objects within the narrative tend to take on a deep internal significance. The smaller episodic narrative units within the Hebrew aesthetic tend to grant primacy to space, both ideologically and at the mechanical level of the text itself. However space, as a (...) determinate structural category, has been all but overlooked in the field of biblical studies to date; reflecting perhaps our own inability, as modern readers, to see beyond the dominant cinematic aesthetic of our times. The book is divided into two major sections, each beginning with a more theoretical approach to the function of narrative space, and ending with a practical application of the previous discussion; using Genesis 28:10-22 (the Bethel narrative) and the book of Ruth respectively, as test cases.Where does the notion of free will come from? How and when did it develop, and what did that development involve? In Michael Frede's radically new account of the history of this idea, the notion of a free will emerged from powerful assumptions about the relation between divine providence, correctness of individual choice, and self-enslavement due to incorrect choice. Anchoring his discussion in Stoicism, Frede begins with Aristotle--who, he argues, had no notion of a free will--and ends with Augustine. Frede shows that Augustine, far from originating the idea (as is often claimed), derived most of his thinking about it from the Stoicism developed by Epictetus. (shrink)

The ongoing duel between realist and anti-realist tendencies in film theory usually positions the ideas of André Bazin unambiguously on the realist side. Whatever else we expect to find in his writing – and the current resurgence is finding more and more – we should find this: realism, cinematic realism. But what type of realism? Is it ontological, and, if so, is it based on a claim for the primacy of photography's “analogical” relation to the world, even to the (...) point of a “direct contact” with the physical existence of nature? Is it aesthetic, celebrating depth of field? Unaffected mise-en-scène? The documentary impulse in preference to fantasy or artifice? In this article, however, I want to argue that we must expand the definition of Bazinian realism through its sensitivity to the non-human. The terrain of the cinematic “Real” is inhabited by a singular complex, one that includes physical space, animality, and material objects, as well as persons and events. To shift our attention to these elements and their effects – intimate as well as alienating, familiar as well as jarring and unexpected – offers another way to glimpse the Real. Which is not to say that the socially constituted world drops out. Of course, language, gender and culture are inescapable mediations. Yet they are, in a certain sense, all wrought by a transcendent human hand. Bazin's conception of realism provides access to a space that is less anthropocentric and testifies to an immanence of the Real, such that non-human, objective realism is not about capturing reality in toto but registering the fact that the human is only a part of reality. There are realities beyond human subjectivity – in space, in objects, in animality – realities that we are put in contact with by cinema. Ideally, what cinema makes possible is an equality, a democratic freedom, not merely for the human spectator – to view and explore film worlds – but for the viewed “object” too: a democracy of the viewer-viewed that installs intersubjectivity in the Real. (shrink)

This article analyses the phenomenology and ontology of videogames through the lens of semiotics. The difference between games and more traditional narrative models (such as those found in books and movies) lies on the structural level. The game narrative needs to be ‘written’ (played) before it can be ‘read’ (interpreted). Games provide fluidity of interactive immersion: the interface as the place of the merger between the player and the game. A connection, without delay, is established between the movement of the (...) player’s hands and the virtual movement across virtual space-times of the virtual characters/events on the screen. The connection is cybernetic, of course, and real. The actuality of the virtual is established as the action of the finger movements of the player. Games require at least a minimum degree of interaction. The player has a role as the master of the code, as the last string of code attached to complete the sequence. Such is the definition of the Cinematic under the formal demands of the Ludic: the defining-delimiting-restricting background which nonetheless, by its very (fixed) presence, provides the nurturing ground for the appearance and presence of (fluid) malleability as the ‘gap’ or ‘lack’ in the structure to be filled – in whatever manner – by the player in the act of his or her (world-constitutive) existential engagement. (shrink)

Between the mid-1960s and the early 1970s, the quotidian dimension took political centrality in Japan thanks to the leading role of the New Left movement and its ideology. This went hand in hand with an appreciation of the philosophical approaches of Marxist intellectuals such as Jun Tosaka and Gorō Hani, who saw the quotidian as a fundamental space for historical transformation. We know how Tosaka and Hani developed an everyday-centred philosophy of history through their writings, but we know little (...) about how formats other than the written word – such as cinema – contributed to thinking historical reality from the same ideological approach. To address this gap in our understanding, this article analyses the intersection of two highly representative films with Tosaka and Hani’s historical thought: Secrets Within Walls ( Kabe no naka no himegoto, Kōji Wakamatsu, 1965) and Ceremonies ( Gishiki, Nagisa Ōshima, 1971). These films’ cinematic allegorisation of post-war Japan’s everyday relationships was a way to reflect on the political character of that period. (shrink)

With its minimalist narrative and long durational recordings of a family living on the margins of modern society and drifting around deserted urban spaces in Taiwan, Stray Dogs ( Jiaoyou, Tsai Ming-liang, 2013) provides a productive reading of cinematic slowness and a critique of the globalising domination of capitalism and neoliberalism in a locally and culturally specific context. This article examines how the representation of cinematic slowness in Stray Dogs encompasses both a narrative that requires the audience’s sympathetic (...) and intellectual understanding and a durational perception of time that calls for empathy and intuition. Moreover, this article aims to reveal how the film’s temporal illegibility, resulting from its radical use of long takes and unresolved differentiation between the past and the present, transforms a prolonged hesitant moment into an act of resistance against the ongoing capitalist and neoliberal standardisation, rationalisation and homogenisation of time’s, or more specifically duration’s, heterogenous nature. By exploring the potential of ethical hesitation and political resistance, underscored by slow aesthetics such as the use of long takes, this article aims to make the case for a specific and unique understanding of slowness as a philosophical signifier of empathy. (shrink)

Hermann Kappelhoff casts the evolution of cinema as an ongoing struggle to relate audiences to their historical moment. Appreciating cinema's unique ability to bind concrete living conditions to individual experience, he reads films by Sergei Eisenstein and Pedro Almodóvar, by the New Objectivity and the New Hollywood, to demonstrate how cinema situates spectators within society. Kappelhoff applies the Deleuzean practice of "thinking in images" to his analysis of films and incorporates the approaches of Jacques Rancière and Richard Rorty, who see (...) politics in the permanent reconfiguration of poetic forms. This enables him to conceptualize film as a medium that continually renews the audiovisual spaces and temporalities through which audiences confront reality. Revitalizing the reading of films by Visconti, Fassbinder, Kubrick, Friedkin, and others, Kappelhoff affirms cinema's historical significance while discovering its engagement with politics as a realm of experience. (shrink)

The primary objective of this two-part essay is to theorize the relationships between religious disenchantment, the autonomy of art, and the phenomenon of contingency. These connections are held to be vital for an understanding of modern aesthetics in general, and the possibility is put forth that they come to a head in the most modern of all the arts: cinema. In the first part, an account of the contemporary rift between the immanence of art and the transcendence of the divine (...) announces the end of the absolute and the beginning of the reign of contingency – a liberating yet catastrophic turning point where artists are responsible for creating meaning with the full knowledge that all meaning is a creation. In the second part, the secular autonomy of art is fully realized in the medium of film, particularly in the camera machine whose first glimpse in time and space reveals a disenchanted world or “contingency in the flesh.” The medium of the moving image and its modes of experience at the turn of the century are here understood as ontologically determined or overdetermined by the great symbolic threat against the powers of human agency – the world in its own image as opposed to the world in our image. However, at the same time this material threat against our will to power is counteracted by the desire to control the shock and indeterminacy of cinematic contingency, a desire fulfilled at the expense of acknowledging the implications of the new anti-absolute. (shrink)

This book begins at the intersection of Dracula and War of the Worlds, both published in 1897 London, and describes the settings of Transylvania, Mars, and London as worlds linked by the body of the vampire. It explores the "vampire from another world" in all its various forms, as a manifestation of not just our anxieties around alien others, but also our alien selves. Unsurprisingly, many of the tropes these novels generated and particularly the themes they have in common have (...) been used and adapted by vampire narratives that followed. From Nosferatu to Alien, Interstellar, Stranger Things, and many others, this book examines how these narratives have evolved since the end of the nineteenth century. Bringing together texts and films from across the 19th, 20th, and 21st centuries, from the far reaches of outer space and the distant future, it concludes that the unexpected and the unknown are not always to be feared, and that humanity does have the power to write its own future. (shrink)

By creatively expanding Deleuze's concept of the time-image crystal, I productively fold together and engineer an encounter between two comparable cinematic movements otherwise separated by huge vistas of time and space. Here, I work to plicate the post-war Italian neorealist movement which Deleuze saw inaugurating the modern cinema, with a ‘postsocialist’ mainland Chinese movement that I playfully call ‘neo-realism’. The films of both historical moments formulate comparable break-away cinemas which are often considered moral or socially responsible art cinemas (...) best approached through André Bazin's ‘ontological’ film philosophy lens. By using Deleuze, however, I hope to move beyond these realist discussions to explore how both movements are also fruitfully thought in terms of introducing distinct yet analogous mental relations into the image during historical junctures defined by radically transforming psycho-geographies. Like Deleuze's discussions of neorealism, neo-realism is considered a loose impulse or mode that collectively bears witness to confusing and bewildering mental experiences from within a turbulent period of cultural, ideological and historical upheaval: which demands new ways of perceiving, thinking and acting. Without wanting to fall into a problematic auteur paradigm, I necessarily employ the films of Wang Xiaoshuai as emblematic examples of the wider impulse or trend. Indeed, Wang's films perfectly reify a new ethico-aesthetic form of Chinese cinema marked by a proliferation of new spaces, characters, experiences and narrative structures. Here, I also strive to do what Deleuze did not in his writing upon film, and explore the break-ups, breakdowns and breakthroughs in specific relation to a complex contextual web of political and cinematic ecosystems. Throughout this process I try to put Deleuze to work by using the films and context to re-interrogate and re-evaluate the time-image models as they appear within and across his Cinema books. (shrink)

The short experimental film Shifting Perspectives stems from a collaborative research project initiated in 2019 in Sydney, Australia, during the 'Choreographic Hack Lab-a week-long laboratory co-presented by Critical Path and Sydney Festival in partnership with the Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences (MAAS), which asked artists and academics to rethink and respond to the idea of the Anthropocene (Pini & George, 2019). The film was later developed in 2020 during a Responsive Residency at Critical Path, Sydney, awarded to anthropologist and (...) choreographer Sarah Pini in collaboration with Jestin George, biotechnologist and visual artist, and Melissa Ramos, visual artist and filmmaker. This work aims to open a multivocal interdisciplinary dialogue across screendance, performance and synthetic biology. Inspired by a recent conversation between two leaders in the field of synthetic biology (Sarah Richardson and Tom Knight) and their divergent approaches to working with microbial life (Agapakis, 2019), the film invites to consider how collaborating with microorganisms can reshape our future in a more-than-human world. (shrink)

In this essay I argue that the crisis of action in postwar narrative cinema as it has been conceptualised by Gilles Deleuze in his Cinema books is linked to a crisis of the male quest. I will approach this double crisis primarily through Deleuze’s concept of the whatever-space ( l’espace-quelconque ), a decentered narrative site that stands in a relation of mutual determination to its wandering protagonists. Through a discussion of different types of whatever-space in Italian neorealism and (...) ‘post-neorealism’ (De Sica, Antonioni, and Bertolucci) as well as films by Godard, Hitchcock and Polanski, I argue that the crisis of action not only consists in a loosening up of ‘the sensory-motor schema’, but also in a breaking down of the bond between male desire and narrative structure, or what Teresa de Lauretis calls ‘Oedipal structure’. In this double crisis the whatever-space is transformed into a site of narrative impotence, and thereby comes to resemble its archetypical form, that of the Wasteland. In ‘post-Italian-neorealism’, examples of which are Antonioni’s Zabriskie Point and Bertolucci’s Last Tango in Paris , the whatever-space is reinvested with meaning and transformed into an escapist site of imagination that unites wandering and the encounter. This encounter, which is by definition ephemeral, forms the condition of the image, a product of cinematic love that comes at the price of the forfeited male quest for the Holy Grail. (shrink)

Walter Benjamin pointed out the affinity of cinema and architecture, and argued unexpectedly that tbese art forms are both essentially tactile arts. The tactility of the material art of building is not difficult to grasp, but the idea that a cinematic projection could result in fundamentally tactile experience certainly meets objections. However, the philosophical as well as neurological studies ofthe past few decades in perception, emotion, and thought, as well as in artistic expressions, suggest that these two arts, or (...) poetic images at large, address ali our senses, including our synthesizing existential sense, all at once. The arts communicate through the “fiesh of the world”, to use a notion of Maurice Merleau-Ponty. The acts of perception, feeling, thinking, and memorizing cal! for the reality and sense of embodiment. We identify ourselves unknowingly with constructed architectural spaces as well as projected cinematic situations with our empathetic capacity. So, Benjamin ‘s argument could be re- -formulated: cinema and architecture are embodied atis in which the externa! and the internal are fully intertwined and fused. “The world is wholly inside, and 1 aro wholly outside myself’, as Merleau-Ponty enigmatically argues. (shrink)

This article examines the pedagogic vision of audiovisual archives in Ici et ailleurs ( Here and Elsewhere, 1974/1978) (shot by Sonimage and drawn from the abandoned project Jusqu’à la Victoire [1970]) in terms of the stratification of images and sounds. Drawing on Gilles Deleuze and Michel Foucault, Tom Conley writes that a diagram that depends upon the division between the visible and the enunciable may be comprehended in terms of a map and as a line of forces. Such strata can (...) act as signposts for diverse and multilateral readings of film, as viewers “read” cinematic landscapes and time-images. In Ici et ailleurs, stratigraphic shots juxtapose the Western, static home life of a family in France with the nomadic life of Fedayeen troops in Jordan and Palestine. This article argues that Sonimage’s narrative specificity relies upon an “in-between” method that defines an inter-space between semantic orders. (shrink)

In my review, I analyze the main points of Shawn Loht’s book “Phenomenology of Film: A Heideggerian Account of the Film Experience” (2017), in which the author makes not only an attempt to develop the phenomenology of cinema, but also to substantiate it as a kind of philosophy—philosophy through watching a movie. The content of the book can be reduced to three major components: 1) clarifying M. Heidegger’s attitude to cinema and evaluating the contribution of his philosophy to the analysis (...) of cinema; 2) revealing cinema viewing as one of the ways of human existence; 3) substantiating cinema art as revealing the truth of being. To implement these tasks, Sh. Loht develops the phenomenology of cinema as a kind of cinema philosophy. Despite the fact that Heidegger expressed his negative attitude towards cinema and photography in his work “Time of the World Picture,” since they serve to technically represent the world, turn it into a picture and strengthen the position of a person as a representative subject, Loht substantiates the understanding of cinema as an artistic creation, which, according to Heidegger’s philosophy of art, reveals the truth of being. Using such concepts of Heidegger’s presence analytics as being-in-the-world, project, understanding, disposition, interpretation, speech, S. Loht describes the motion picture as a thing in the world that Dasein encounters, and the cinematic experience as a way of human existence. The author understands phenomenology as a method that focuses on phenomena as a person experiences them. Loht concludes that movies are fundamentally phenomenological. The subject of the phenomenology of cinema is the space between the viewer and the screen, the discovery and understanding that the viewer produces. The phenomenology of cinema is the phenomenology of the presence of the moviegoer. The core question is, is it possible to philosophize with the help of cinema? Loht answers in the affirmative, but this philosophizing will be phenomenology. The viewer philosophizes while watching the film, which is based on the self-understanding of the presence, the philosophical reflections of the viewer are caused by the film. (shrink)

On the origin of the cinematic odyssey Kubrick remarks: 'I do not remember when I got the idea to do the film. I became interested in extraterrestrial intelligence in the universe, and was convinced that the universe was *full* of intelligent life, and so it seemed time to make a film'. But as to the confusion surrounding the film upon its release, and in particular many thinking Floyd had gone to the 'planet' Clavius he said: 'Why they think there's (...) a planet Clavius I'll never know. But they hear him [Floyd] asked, 'Where are you going?', and he says, 'I'm going to Clavius'. With many people -- *boom* -- that one word registers in their heads and they don't look at fifteen shots of the moon; they don't see he's going to the Moon'. At the same time he rhetorically asked: 'How could we possibly appreciate the Mona Lisa if Leonardo had written at the bottom of the canvas: 'The lady is smiling because she is hiding a secret from her lover'. This would shackle the viewer to reality, and I don't want this to happen to _2001_'. (shrink)

This article interprets David Lynch's Mulholland Drive (2001) to argue for the morphological influence cinematic images have on modernity's monstrous identity. It shows how Lynch's tactic of interweaving apparently discrete spaces of dream and reality – one often inverting or uncannily ironising the other – relies on the virtual space of cinema, which leaves a mark on understanding, irrespective of its apparent truth. To do so, I employ Peter Sloterdijk's philosophy of space – especially the spherology developed (...) in his Spheres trilogy – and Bernard Stiegler's approach to cinematic phenomenology to consider the transferential force of cinema, and its power to cultivate and shape popular consciousness. Mulholland Drive is acutely aware of this force, and its interplay with the expectations and disappointments of Hollywood monstrosity inserts itself into the sphere-forming traffic of modern meaning-making. In doing so, I argue, the film takes up Lynch's familiar approach to irony and the weird to unwind the destructive uniformity of Hollywood hegemony. The productive bifurcations that result, inscribed in between cinema and consciousness, and forgettable as the very spheric intimacy of memory, gesture to what might live beyond discrete forms. (shrink)

Much of contemporary visual culture can be traced directly to the work of Eadweard Muybridge, photographer and film pioneer. His work is powered by an extreme obsessionality, excess and ordinariness that enabled him to negate all preconceptions and to re-conceptualize the dynamics of corporeal and urban forms. He created a moving-image projector, the Zoopraxiscope, for his sequences of human and animal movement, thus construction the first identifiably cinematic space for his images' projection to spectators--Edited summary from back cover.

Terrance Malick's film _The Thin Red Line is notable for its inexorable tendency to undermine the ontological status of the very times, places, and people it portrays. The film consists in an unrelenting questioning of cinematic reality. Such questioning does not lead to definitive truth or thematic resolution but only to more questions, more incredulousness at the continual disclosure and withdrawal of difference and multiplicity in their own accord. The film thus adopts what one might call a Heideggerian posture (...) of questionableness without the expectation of answer. Far from striving to depict a truth, meaning, or moral that allows it to achieve a verisimilitude with some reassuring dimension of reality, _The Thin Red Line labors to intricately destructure the ontological ground of every such unifying principle, and thus every correspondence with an external reality. In doing so, it meticulously questions the material status of every filmic pretense to coherent and natural representation, thereby striving to affirm in cinematic space the irreducible difference and multiplicity that conventional cinematic productions typically negate. (shrink)

The subject of the study is the figurative and symbolic reflection and transformation of the dynamic reality of life in the cinematic space of modern culture. The purpose of the work is to identify and substantiate trends in the development of cinematographic cultural texts based on the figurative and symbolic representation of the phenomenon of success in the existential space of human existence. The scientific novelty of the work is represented by the evidence base of the study, (...) which determines the figurative correspondence of the philosophical and sociological representation of cinematic texts to the phenomenon of success as a value-symbolic aspect of personal activity. Based on the analysis of cinema screen products created at the turn of the XX-XXI centuries and devoted to the characterization of the image of a subject whose existential level of being is characterized in the symbols of success/ failure, several trends in the development of cinematic culture can be identified. Firstly, the characteristic of the "sunset" of the previously dominant ideological trend of symbolization of the actual phenomenology of success. Secondly, the stage of axiological instability and ambivalence in the evaluation of the symbols of success, unevenly implemented in the scenario and staging part. And, thirdly, the formation and consolidation of new cinematic paradigms through the constant convergence of private symbols of success, manifested in different ways both in reality and on the cinema screen, and accompanied by constant attempts at their non-contextual universalization. (shrink)

At this historical moment, few terms are as charged and powerful as the omnipresent term environment. It has become a strategic tool for politics and theories alike, crossed the borders of the disciplines of biology and ecology, and left the manifold field of environmentalism. This article explores the first steps on this path of expansion, in which the term becomes an argumentative resource and achieves a plausibility that transforms it into a universal tool. It is not self-evident to describe ubiquitous (...) media, cinematic spaces, or augmented realities as environments. To understand how the term gained this plausibility, it is necessary to distinguish it from two other terms: the French milieu and the German Umwelt. When these three terms substitute one another and are used as translations, they lose their historical specificity and depth, and three different theoretical and philosophical traditions merge into indifference. Consequently, a conceptual history of the term environment and its relation to milieu and Umwelt—as well as terms such as medium, atmosphere, ambiance, and climate—can help us to understand the potentials and dangers of the term’s plausibility. In this sense, the article argues for a new perspective on epistemologies of surrounding that relate that which surrounds to that which is surrounded. (shrink)

The article investigates the function and signification of doors in two silent films, Ernst Lubitsch's 1916 When I Was Dead and Charlie Chaplin's 1917 The Adventurer. Taking a theoretical perspective provided by the field of intellectual inquiry known as cultural techniques (Kulturtechniken), the door in these films is studied with respect to its procedural and functional operations. Specifically, the article focuses on the ways in which the employment of doors in each of the films relates to these films' configurations of (...) inside and outside as conceptual realms. The analysis presented shows that Lubitsch and Chaplin engage doors in uniquely different ways. It further reveals that, while the operation of the door in When I Was Dead reinforces an exclusive binary of inside and outside, which itself can be traced back to the film's concern with sexual difference, the operation of the door in The Adventurer essentially deconstructs the inside/outside binary, an act that can be linked to a critique of contemporary notions of industrial management and the treatment of humans as machines. (shrink)

Within cinematic horror, trauma as a concept has often been used as an allegorical strategy to work through collective anxieties. This article on It Follows (David Robert Mitchell, 2014) and Get Out (Jordan Peele, 2017) strikes another note. It argues that, by their aesthetic qualities, both films are rendered traumatic in their affective orientation, both toward the cinematic world and toward the spectator. It analyses the two films through trauma as an affective-aesthetic strategy that puts emphasis on the (...) edge of the frame as well as on the offscreen space. This strategy evokes a sinister mood that exists independently of the protagonists, allowing us to meaningfully feel the effects of their trauma as we engage with the film. Especially the use of the offscreen space in both films contributes to the “traumatic mood” of the films, but it also functions to immerse the spectator in the invisible filmic world. In this way, It Follows and Get Out embody trauma as a denial of relief from dread, which we both recognize in the characters' experience, and feel in our own bodies through the effective creation of ever-present threat. (shrink)

In cinematic experience, a view from nowhere appears in an instituting moment – neither in time nor out of time, but part of time itself – when a camera reflex lifts the viewer’s perception out of somewhere and into the infinite time of the film. We argue that the view from nowhere found in Birt Acres’s film Rough Sea at Dover – a fifteen-second shot of waves breaking against a sea wall in Dover, England in 1895 – transcends all (...) attempts to turn it into a view from somewhere, as an empty space that carries the auratic trace of the past into the present through phase shifts of technical mediation. In Simondon’s terms, the view from nowhere opens up possibilities of becoming all ways at once in the reflexive capacity of the human organon. Following Stiegler’s organological technics, we identify the capture of perception by the apparatus of recording and playback in the digitally automated algorithm as a threat to the reflexive capability of the organon to see otherwise in the creative individuation opened up in the phase-shifting process. Our analysis triggers a switch from an anthropocentric to a neganthropic-ecological mode of seeing in which the auratic trace of the event of waves crashing against the pier is seen in an inhuman view from nowhere that carries the threat of automatized systems in which human noesis – self-reflexive capacity – is eclipsed by machines. By seeing otherwise, the eclipse by machines is reversed to reveal the complex becoming of the film in its materiality as a work of creative individuation. (shrink)

In this paper I argue for the following two related claims. First, the science of phoronomy from Kant's Metaphysical Foundations of Natural Science is grounded in the duplication of space. Second, this duplication is made possible through the self-localization of the subject, as Kant shows in the "Gegnden-Schrift". The thesis of this paper is that the self-localization transforms space into an object that can be cinematically moved and that this action sets the ground for a science of phoronomy, (...) which presupposes the existence of at least two spaces. In the end, the other endpoint of the Kantian determination of space is discussed, namely space understood as an idea of reason. (shrink)

From Joan Lindsay and cinematic master Peter Weir to Ted Kotcheff and Warwick Thornton, over past decades authors, screenwriters and filmmakers have produced films that depict the vast Australian landscape—simply referred to as terra nullius during colonial times by settlers literally confronting a continent vastly different from anything they were culturally and geographically accustomed to—as mysterious, impenetrable and ominous. Just like the dark cold of Scandinavia lends itself perfectly to contemporary Nordic Noir, the Australian New Wave or Australian Film (...) Revival of the 1970s and 1980s saw the release of films that encapsulated the eeriness of this largely rugged, arid and windswept continent, which opens up possibilities for anything to happen within those very, limitless, territories. This article analyses Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975), Kotcheff’s horror flick par excellence Wake in Fright (1971); "the best and most terrifying film about Australia in existence" and with a TV-series remake in 2017, and Thornton’s more recent portrayal of Aboriginal misery and poverty Samson and Delilah (2009) set against a hostile urban backdrop, from a Foucauldian perspective. In its theoretical framework it also draws primarily on Freud. Heterotopia is used as a term to refer to strange, bewildering spaces that are disturbing and undecipherable—also described as “an unimaginable space, representable only in language, and as a kind of semimythical real site” (as articulated in Knight, 2017, 141). Foucault’s concept is applied in a cinematic context and used in conjunction with Freud’s notion of the uncanny as a feeling of uneasiness; or, as has been explained in his seminal text “The Uncanny” (1919), “that class of the terrifying that leads back to something long known to us, once very familiar.” We argue that these eerie, fear-induced screened narratives represent a nation whose weather-beaten, freedom-loving yet at heart anxiety-ridden people are most definitely a product of their environment. (shrink)

This article addresses recent science fiction films about the colonization of outer worlds, or space-steading, in the context of the longer colonial history of the frontier. Paying particular attention to Interstellar (Christopher Nolan, 2014), Serenity (Joss Whedon, 2005) and The Wild Blue Yonder (Werner Herzog, 2005), I argue that colonizing outer space is not only a race to the new frontier, but that this takes place because technologies that picture space have quickened the pulse. Through its imagining (...) of the end of times as a reiteration of colonizing adventure, and the emptying of people from their place, the technology of film has itself produced the accident (Virilio, 2007) of an uninhabited earth. As suggested by the cinematically derived kinesis of wormholes, space wrinkles, and warp speeds, what might be left as a form of life is none other than film itself. The hyper-kinesis of film spectacle takes on a non-human life of its own, which, in science fiction film, constitutes a form of self-alienation, removing viewers from the places they actually inhabit and displacing the histories they unfold. In this way, I address what is truly cinematic about the film frontier traversed by the new space of uber-masculine adventurer-settlers. (shrink)

This article examines three films by the Swedish director Ruben Östlund: Play, Force Majeure, and The Square. It describes the role of mobile phones in the films, both on the level of content and in terms of aesthetics. Within the films, the failure of the phone to connect the protagonists to significant others is seen as symbolic of an alienation that leads them to points of crisis. Here, the mobile phone works as a device in two ways. First, as a (...) significant communication technology, and second, as a plot contrivance to advance the dramatic conflict. Critically, the mobile phone opens an uncertain space where subjectivity becomes increasingly insecure, precisely as it becomes fundamentally intertwined with it. There is a cinematic tradition of mobilizing this ambiguity to which this process can be connected. Further, the form of these works is considered in relation to the notion of traumatic repetition, and how this expands into the wider contemporary image-culture and the key influence of YouTube within this. Here, the films are considered in relation to the changing dynamic of the public sphere in the light of the mobile recording capabilities, that have come to shape an emergent cinematic aesthetic evident in these films. (shrink)

What is called “time travel” cinema is but one aspect in a tripartite series of interweaving modes of disjunctive narration which is also – simultaneously – a cinema of “many worlds” and “altered states”. Exploiting Gilles Deleuze's three syntheses of time, space, and consciousness from Difference and Repetition (1968) allows a conceptual development of these cinematic series through three popular Hollywood film cycles beginning with Planet of the Apes (Franklin J. Schaffner, 1968), The Terminator (James Cameron, 1984), and (...) Back to the Future (Robert Zemeckis, 1985). In so doing, film and philosophy are deployed as two series which together create inexhaustible atemporal, aspatial, and ahuman disjunctions, ungrounding everyday spatio-temporal identities, and affirming productive images of cinematic thought. (shrink)

After a century of cinema, accounts of this cultural form see it as divided between documentation and animation (the real and the magical). Yet the challenge that cinema presented in terms of a relocation of perception from the eye to the machine has become occluded. The shock of cinema in its earliest manifestations resided in the body of the spectator, no longer the site of primary perception, but dependent on an other (the camera, the projector) lacking in human qualities. This (...) article argues that the newly configured body–machine relationship provided by cinema became a marginalized feature of cinematic culture, an ex-centric cinema relegated to the sub-fields of science and educational film. In the mid-20th century the project surfaces spectacularly in the work of pioneering designers Charles and Ray Eames, most poignantly in their film Powers of Ten (first made in 1968, remade in 1977), a journey into the cosmos and back again into the body of a man. Bringing together discourses of space travel, cartography, physics and cinema, the film moves us towards an understanding of visual culture as an apparatus of calculated possibilities, where visualization replaces representation. If we take the Powers of Ten as a non-representational film, an ex-centric cinematic practice, we uncover non-linear and non-representational ways of apprehending the relationship between bodies and matter. This literal line of flight is one path that cinema may have taken. Its presence, however, is detectable outside of the cinema, in the software programs of electronic cartography copyrighted as Google Earth. The human body is not made virtual by its engagement with calculated visualization but is in turn part of the field of enquiry, equally porous, and definable in various scales and in different dimensions. (shrink)

Hastings reads the novel Comme dans un film des frères Coen by Bertrand Gervais as addressing both the midlife and the blank page crisis. Indeed, the main character of this novel is a writer in his fifties who still suffers from the failure of his last novel ignored by the critics. Disenchanted, he slowly enters a world of fantasy, and falls in love with the voice of his GPS he called Gwyneth “parle trop” therefore recalling the name of the actress (...) with the same name. He gradually loses contact with his wife and his son, a successful painter, and is transformed into “the man who was not there” another character from a movie by the Coen brothers entitled The Barber: the man who was not there. Hastings asks: How could one get lost with a GPS? After the main character had initially bought his GPS for a trip in Australia in order to find his way, it started to go beyond its role as a road guide and questioned where he was in his relationship with his wife, in his career as a writer, and in his skin as a mature man. Not only was the GPS not fulfilling its purpose but also it started to ruin a fragile relationship hoping to find its way back to love during a last minute trip in Australia. Even after destroying the annoying talkative GPS, it continued to disrupt the couple in the plane on the way back to Canada. As much as Gwyneth the GPS is synonymous with escape and freedom, it is also showing the main character the wrong way, the way out of his reality, out of his family and out of his life. His attempts to free himself from Gwyneth are worthless, her image is still there, haunting his thoughts like images from a movie. But the displacement happens at another level than just the diegetic one. The confrontation of the text with moving images has consequences on the shape of the text itself. The mapping of the text on the page is influenced by this amalgam. The white page becomes a space where words are rearranged in different ways, some of which suggest poetry, other cartoons or cinematic images. The displacement of literature in areas that were previously foreign to it is at the heart of creative activity, and determines its renewal. Hastings presents the consequences resulting from the confrontation with the GPS, both on the mapping of one’s identity as well as the mapping and the shaping of the text itself. (shrink)

The aim of this paper is to map the reconfiguration and displacement of the emerging trauma of the Holocaust in the cinematic narratives of SFR Yugoslavia. The analysis of three nearly forgotten Yugoslav films of the 1960s - Killer on Leave, Witness Out of Hell and Smoke - follows Kansteiner?s thesis about the changes of Holocaust memorial narratives in the films shown on German television in the 1970s. Accordingly, I claim that the analyzed films position the trauma of the (...) Holocaust as a crime committed by others, over there, and then in the past. Further, they broaden the trauma to accommodate the diversified roles of victims, perpetrators, witnesses and bystanders, and help the Germans come to terms with the Nazi criminal legacy and their own role. The co-productional terms allow the films to balance the memory of the Holocaust as both anti-fascist and cosmopolitan, multidirectional within the real Yugoslav/German symbolic narrative space and its intrinsic poetics. (shrink)

Cinema, like language, can be said to exist as a system of differences. In his latest book, acclaimed philosopher Jacques Rancière looks at cinematic art in comparison to its corollary forms in literature and theatre. From literature, he argues, cinema takes its narrative conventions, while at the same time effacing literature’s images and philosophy; and film rejects theatre, while also fulfilling theatre’s dream. Built on these contradictions, the cinema is the real, material space in which one is moved (...) by the spectacle of shadows. Thus, for Rancière, film is the perpetually disappointed dream of a language of images. (shrink)

Female specificity in narrative films is a topic as illusive and controversial as it is incredibly rich with potential for analysis and research. Particularly illusive is scholarly research on the female gaze in mainstream filmmaking. Male specificity in the movies is far less illusive and controversial. So pervasive is the male presence in mainstream film form that the term the male gaze1 has become institutionalized in theory and practice. The female gaze, perhaps unavoidably so, eludes institutionalization.2 My paper presents a (...) glimpse into the traces of the female gaze in Jane Campion's historical film, The Piano. Campion's filmic text creates a space in mainstream movies where cinematic enunciation intersects with the linguistic and psychoanalytical innovations of the last half-century. I have chosen The Piano because it presents an overwhelmingly clear demonstration of the female gaze and does so within the limitations of mainstream film conventions. (shrink)

The paper aims to give a comprehensive cognitive and semiotic analysis of translation strategies implied in the translation of the film “Darkest Hour”. Regarding a film as a communicative process mediated by certain semiotic features makes it possible to analyze the semiotic character of film discourse in translation. Thus, it was decided that translation is not just a speech-oriented process but a communicative act taking place within a definite semiotic space in a cross-cultural perspective. The semiotic model of (...) class='Hi'>cinematic discourse has a complicated structure and is analyzed based on semantic, syntactic, and pragmatic criteria. The choice of the semiotic system primarily depends on the communicative situation and its recipients. As the semiotic system of the film “Darkest Hour” is both socioculturally and situationally conditioned, the translator reconstructed the sense of the source language text by implying the translation transformations that assured the accuracy and adequacy of its translation into the target language text. (shrink)

Stanley Kubrick is regarded as a filmmaker of complex imagery. Yet the vitality of his more metaphysical works lies in what is unseen. There is an embodiment to Kubrick’s films that maintains a sense of subjectivity, but one which is unapparent and non-visual. This opens another way into Kubrick’s works, that of conditions of audibility, affectivity, and signs. To think of embodiment from such an audible perspective requires one to subvert film spectatorship and instead enter the reality of the film’s (...) immanent, borderless unfolding as itself. This essay applies Gilles Deleuze’s semiotic concepts of cinema, metaphysics, and subjectivity to conditions of audibility and unseeing, a connection Deleuze largely ignored in his writings. These dual concepts of audibility and unseeing break prevailing analytical norms in cinema discourse that affirm limitations via material, visual, textual, and spatial reification: subjective-objective delineations, the body and the gaze, sound as necessarily spatial/material, and the dominance of images in regard to aesthetics, surveillance, and evidence. Instead, this essay moves through Kubrick’s constructions of milieu that are unseen in the midst of an otherwise visual unfolding, and audible in the midst of an otherwise sonic unfolding. To consider Kubrick’s films through their audible embodiment, one must detach the microphone from its adherence to space, the body from its visual gaze. Here, sounds, images, and objects become secondary to hearing and signs in a temporal unfolding, resulting in a cinema that is experiential rather than representational. This opens to an actuality of spirit within the world of the film, offering new opportunities for creativity in the cinematic form. (shrink)

For social analysis, cinema offers researchers a comprehensive data store. The time and space having been redesigned through cinematography cannot be shaped independently of the director's internalized ideological, social, cultural and political realities. The argument of the paper is the instrumentalization of the cinema to construct daily realities with discursive codes through the director’s personal perceptions reflected to the film. Throughout the paper questions such as through which methods the director develops his cinematic language to shape the reality, (...) how he reshapes society’s realities to create a new image of The Prophet and what kind of motivations inspire him to practise a retrospective outlook are tried to be answered. Discourse analysis of our data has been carried out with the phenomenological method. In the analyses, it has been observed that theo-political associations such as language, lineage, ahl al-bayt, evaluation of past events with today's concepts play an active role in denominationally-constructed realities. The implications of contemporary Shiite views is conveyed to the audience with cinematographic techniques such the disruption of time integrity with flashbacks, the narrator of the film, the reflection of miracles with the deus ex machina technique, etc. (shrink)

This paper takes the form of a ‘performative’ dialogue, a recounting of scenes, which alternate, in the mode of a cinematic montage, with academic analysis of the interfaces between boxing, art, and space. In his book Body and Soul: Notebooks on an Apprentice Boxer, sociologist Loïc Wacquant mixes three genres: analytic sociology, depictive ethnography, and short story. He argues that he used this unorthodox methodology ‘to make the reader simultaneously feel and understand how boxers are “gripped” by their (...) craft and viscerally tied to it’. Similarly, in this paper, the overlapping voices of its two authors engage in both performative, creative and intellectual ways with the critiques and social rituals surrounding boxing, ultimately finding that an understanding of boxing as an epistemological encounter gives rise to interesting ways to think through the relationships between art and urban space itself. The paper ranges widely over each author’s personal experience of boxing, analyses of specific artworks both ancient and modern, and an analysis of the psychogeography of urban space, and in particular, Johannesburg. The form of the paper, as it incorporates narrative experience and analytic mode, can be seen as a text that re-enacts the ‘performance’ of boxing and art-making in which the traditional opposition between the two is integrated, if not suspended. (shrink)

This article and associated short film, entitled Threshold, explores the phenomenon of house as a Cartesian construct of rational cultural detachment, set in binary opposition to the indigenous understanding of nature as connected and sacred. Threshold focuses on the liminal in-between zones of a house – its doors and windows – which both separate and join the inside/outside domains – without belonging to either of them. The film explores the liminal act of crossing this ontological threshold – representing it cinematically (...) as a vibrational, ocular/aural wavering between two ‘worlds’. The intention is to destabilize this duality on an emotional level – in order to interrogate its validity. This strategy references anthropological theory, which asserts that the liminal act stimulates the limbic system containing ancestral, instinctual deposits. The function of the limbic system (part of the triune brain model) accords with Jung’s theory of the collective unconscious – which views the house as an archetypal symbol, central to the meaning of dreams – in representing the psyche of the dreamer. Threshold attempts to invoke this and other archaic symbols as the camera journeys through its interior spaces, discovering its material culture artefacts, which reflect the psychic state of its inhabitants. The paper explores the indigenous belief that there is a mystical (unitive, transformative) relationship existing between space and acoustics that can only be fully appreciated through an emotional experience with it. The adoption of an arts interventionist approach, can, the article will argue, provide an important contribution towards our expanded understanding of Space and Place as an embodied, emotional-cognitive act. (shrink)