Jeffrey Sconce includes among his five elements of “smart” film style a thematic critique of the white middle class family as a site of miscommunication and emotional dysfunction. To explore this notion in depth, I will examine the following films: sex, lies and videotape (Steven Soderbergh 1989), Safe (Todd Haynes 1994) and Boogie Nights (P.T. Anderson 1997). Each of these “smart” films provides a critical commentary on the family in relation to the individual; however, each film is unique in its approach to the subject matter, as they each employ distinct filmmaking techniques to convey a similar idea. The main characters in each of these films are distanced from their families and must seek acceptance and comfort elsewhere. While they are each considered to be thematically and aesthetically similar according to the conceptualizations of the 1990’s “smart” film, they each offer disparate results for each protagonist once they have ventured far from their respective families: Ann’s issues are resolved and the future looks hopeful; Carol is relocated to an equally isolating environment, seeming unaware of the lack of progress made, and the future looks grim; Eddie/Dirk has not learnt anything, and continues to acquire validation sexually, lacking any self-awareness, and any hope for his future looks fleeting.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
Animating Auteurism: Contemporary Japanese Animator Hayao Miyazaki According to 1950’s Auteur Policy
In the 1950s, Cahier du Cinema critics were writing about “la politique des auteurs”, or “auteur policy”. The central concept of “la politique des auteurs”, as delineated by the Cahier du Cinema critics, is that “the cinema is an art of personal expression” (Buscombe 22). The Cahier critics believed that some directors should be recognized as artists, as their personalities were consistently found across a body of work. In his article, “De la Politique des Auteurs” written in 1968, Andre Bazin contemplates the validity of the auteur policy as the subject has become a matter of debate among film critics. He believes the final product, the film, is more important than the director (Bazin 20), while the politique des auteurs places the emphasis on the director, the author, the artist, and his personality, rather than one film in isolation. Bazin also speaks of the significance of the industry in which a director’s films are produced (22). The conditions under one must work impact the final product, and this must be taken into account. Bazin goes on to discuss films made completely by the director, stating that these films are indefinitely more personal (24). While Bazin teeters back and forth throughout his essay as to whether or not the politique des auteurs is a fruitful endeavor, he comes to a conclusion deducing that the policy is in fact useful as a concept, but it must be accompanied by complimentary approaches (28). He declares that the auteur policy is not a complete theory and must not be treated as one. In 1973, Edward Buscombe suggests three approaches to supplement the auteur policy: (a) the “effects of the cinema on society” must be examined; as well as (b) “the effect of society on cinema”; and finally (c) “the effects of films on other films” must be considered (32). Theorists, audiences and critics still exercise the term auteur today, applying it to directors whose work is recognizable as their own, both stylistically and thematically. Hayao Miyazaki is an auteur. While examining Miyazaki’s Spirited Away (2001) and Princess Mononoke (1997), I will argue that he is worthy of the title auteur according to the original auteur policy.
Adventures in Animated Adaptation
While exploring adaptation and animation, I will undertake a comparative reading of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” and Disney’s 1951 film adaptation Alice in Wonderland. Paul Wells explores the animated film adaptation in his essay “Thou Art Translated: Analysing Animated Adaptations”. He argues that animation is “a distinctive film-form which offers to the adaptation process a unique vocabulary of expression unavailable to the live-action film-maker” (199); “animation […] provides a vocabulary that enables the most sensitive response to literary texts” (212). Kamilla Elliott delves into the debate surrounding the novel and film as she explores “adaptations and analogies”(211), drawing the distinction between novels that conjure images in the minds of readers, and films that offer words that must compete with the simultaneous images on-screen. She studies the various adaptations of Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and contends that the Disney film adaptation is able to illustrate the novel’s verbal imagery successfully with literal pictorial representations of the “hybrid verbal-visual puns” (226-228). My analysis will be primarily confined to Wells’ theorization of the animated adaptation. I will focus my comparison on reading closely the adaptation in terms presented by his model. While drawing from a comparative analysis of Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” and Disney’s animated adaptation, I will argue that animation enables the filmmaker to transform the written word to the screen without constraint. This will be made clear while exploring the extensive capacities available to the medium outlined by Paul Wells and Kamilla Elliott, including the “greater continuity between how the text is imagined (the imagist principle) and reformed (the propositional mode)” (Wells 210); the ways in which words evoke images, while images may reciprocally evoke words (Elliott 211); and the seamless transitions from interiority/subjectivity to exteriority/objectivity afforded by this film form (Wells 200).
Lying to Tell the Truth: An Exploration of the Mockumentary "I'm Still Here"

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