3 posts tagged “cinephilia”
The other day in my seminar we were talking about Christian Keathley's cinephiliac anecdotes, and how they can be used as springboards for larger discussions. Keathley used an example written by a student studying Fritz Lang's M; essentially the student focused on the use of bowler hats in the film to talk about the origin of bowling as a sport, something about it being used by German cults to "cleanse" sins. The student then related this back to the film, in which he describes Peter Lorre's character as a "pin" being chased around the "alleys" of the city and such.
At this point in the discussion one of the other students in my seminar goes off on a tangent about how this example doesn't make any sense at all, since bowler hats have nothing to do with bowling. His whole argument was that since there's no real connection between the two, the student's reading of the film is totally wrong and therefore invalid. I'm not quite sure what was said immediately afterwards, but it lead to a discussion about filmmakers and theory. According to this guy, every film has to involve some sort of theoretical framework, otherwise it automatically is labeled - as he put it - as "bad". I don't know why, but this struck a cord with me.
The guy in my seminar is a total example of how snobby a lot of film students are. He talked a lot about the Russian school of film (i.e. Eisenstein) and how a lot of those filmmakers were also film theorists who infused their films with their theories. He's always comparing everything we watch in class to these theorists and putting down a lot of other ideas and theories that are just as valid, which is something I've grown tired of over the course of the quarter. What's worse is that this guy made it into the Critical Studies concentration, which is something I wanted to do. It's bad enough that our department is already so U.S./Euro-centric when it comes to film theory, but to have an elitist guy like him teaching a seminar in the spring is just ... baffling.
Truth be told, sometimes I do get a touch of elitism when it comes to "knowing" more about film than others. But hey, everyone's like that at some point or another. People just love to show off their knowledge, especially when they know the other person doesn't know certain things. My friend Derek is like that all the time, but there's a difference between simply passing on factual information and trying to eliminate a certain way of thinking. When dealing with non-film majors it's easy to get carried away, but this poses the problem of alienating people away from film studies, as Keathley writes.
What we need to do is to open up film studies, to make its appeal a little more broad. Film studies, especially in regards to theory, is not completely dictated by the Russian montage theorists or the French writers of Cahiers du Cinema, despite how influential they've been in helping to create film studies as a discipline. Literary studies have already begun to delve into the individual experience, but until film studies can do the same, you're only going to see the same people talking about how Eisenstein's a genius, French films are the "best", and how your interpretation of (insert name of film) is completely and utterly wrong.
So please, be a little open-minded when it comes to film. We're not all a bunch of pricks.
There's a reason why I haven't blogged in almost a week, and it's because I had to write a little over fifteen pages' worth of essays during that time. Ah, midterms. I'm sure after graduation when I have nothing better to do but work I'll actually miss them. Speaking of which, my quarter is ending in another three or four weeks, which means finals are right around the corner. For me that entails two more lengthy essays and a final project for my seminar on film theory. The other day I came up with an idea of what I want to do.
The assignment essentially calls for a project that expresses how each of us in the seminar views cinephilia, and we can do this in any way we want to so long as there's the inclusion of a written portion (another eight or ten pages). Some suggestions my professor noted included an autobiographical element, something I've always been good at (well, most people should be good at talking about themselves). Immediately I thought of writing about my passion with collecting DVDs.
My DVD collection's currently sitting at 110 (box sets and multi-disc movies count as single DVDs), with three more on the way that I wound up winning on eBay for a good deal. Before the year ends I'm hoping to bring that number as close to 150 as possible. Why? Because I want to build a massive library of films that I like - and I just happen to like a lot of films. One of my bad personality traits happens to be that I'm a huge materialist, and I attribute that to growing up on the edge of being poor. My theory is that if you spend money on something, you should be given a tangible object, something you can keep and enjoy again and again. I'm not a big fan of one-time experiences, especially the more enjoyable ones, which is why I don't go to the movies as often as I'd like these days. It's just too expensive, and if I'm going to spend that much money I might as well go to Streetlight and get a DVD for the same price.
To tie in to that part about materiality, I have to say that I just love how my collection looks. Whenever I look at my bookshelf and see it filled with movies I just have to smile. There's a kind of pride in having such a huge collection because it represents a part of myself. One girl in my seminar talked about her library of books. She said that even though she probably won't ever reread the majority of her books, she loves keeping them on display because it gives a measure of "intelligence" and "experience" (her words) - it shows others that she's read those books and consumed them. To an extent I agree with that position as well.
Another facet of collecting I'm interested in exploring is how certain companies seem to cater to those types of crowds. Take The Criterion Collection, for example (the word "collection" is right there), and the more recent Dragon Dynasty. Both companies prominently tag their DVD releases with numbers and keep a catalog list that acts as a handy checklist of sorts. And, if you like the films they put out, collecting them all becomes a habit because you know that there's some kind of overarching element that connects them all; one film leads to another through a common connection.
The same goes, in a way, with "special editions". They feel special, and having those editions instead of regular, more mass-market editions gives you a sense that you own something slightly more valuable. And typically they're a better value, especially on sale. I made the mistake of buying the single-disc edition of Pan's Labyrinth when it first came out on DVD, and a week later I saw the two-disc set for only $5 more. Needless to say, I kicked myself for that blunder. Hard.
I think based on this idea, of special collector's editions, I want to make my own DVD, cover and all. My essay will take the form of a booklet insert, and the DVD itself will ... actually, I'm not sure. I was thinking of doing a short film asking people about their own forms of collecting and/or viewing experiences, but that might take more time to do. We'll see how I feel by next week. I definitely need to do the writing portion as soon as possible, especially since I have to present my outline in two weeks.
But hey, I think it's a good start. My DVDs are a big part of my life, and I hope that I'll be able to pass them on when the time comes.
The other day in my film theory seminar we talked about the relation between cinephilia (which is the overall focus of the course) and knowledge. We're supposed to write a five-page essay about it before November 5th, but I figured why not bounce some ideas around on my blog? Anyway, we're being asked to write about what it is the exact correlation between these two things, using Metz's idea of film as a "socio-psychological" tool and examining one of these two books and their respective film:
I have to admit, I wasn't too thrilled about seeing Singin' in the Rain again. The first time I saw the film it was in my first film class, an introduction to the "film experience", and I remember hating it (especially after seeing the "I Was Made for You" sequence dozens of times ... since we had to write an essay on it). Still, after reading Wollen's book and realizing how much work and hardship Gene Kelly put into the film (and how much he suffered after), I can actually appreciate it. When I brought this point up in class yesterday, my professor then asked, "Does this knowledge then make you a cinephilia?"
Good question. Personally, I don't think it makes me a cinephilia, but rather I feel like cinephilia's will always crave that extra knowledge that goes alongside any film. A cinephilia most likely will go for two-disc sets that come with hours' worth of special features whereas someone who just likes movies are content with regular editions that come without extra features; they just want the movie. Of course, this is all my opinion, and I'm generalizing a lot. For one, there is no standard definition and criteria to judge one as a "cinephile". Second, although I consider myself a cinephile to an extent, I don't actively seek information on certain films, especially if I don't actually like them (Singin' in the Rain is a prime example).
Yet I do feel like there is that desire for knowledge, that desire to learn about the history and the theoretical concepts behind a film. The problem is knowing whether that knowledge (1) makes a difference to certain people, and (2) whether the knowledge is sought or not.
Like I said, I'm just trying to bounce around some ideas. I've got a lot of time before my essay is due (though I need a draft by Monday), so most likely it'll hit me eventually. And with that, I leave you with this: