5 posts tagged “theory”

   Earlier today I was actually thinking of sports in relation to the way we think about film and television, mainly in terms of spectatorship. Most film theorists including Christian Metz viewed film as a medium that, although viewed in a theater packed with other people, is actually consumed by an individual rather than as a group. Sure, you can argue against that statement, but contrast watching a film in the theater with watching a film on TV with a group of friends. In the former mode of viewing there's more of an internalization of the story (let's assume the film is a fictional narrative), more engagement with what's ultimately going on in the world on-screen. In the latter mode one is more prone to staying outside the boundaries of the diagesis, remaining grounded in the real world via talking, making jokes and references, et cetera. As one theorist - whose name I unfortunately can't remember - wrote, film's relation to a viewer is likened to that of a novel. (Bare with me, I'm getting to my point regarding television and sports.)
   Now television works on a fundamentally different level in terms of spectatorship. For the most part television is produced as a medium that actually depends and thrives on a large audience, though to a large extent fictional television still retains many of the functions of film. Take a show like Battlestar Galactica, a terrific serial that invokes the same engagement with the diagetic universe created for the audience. You know you're not the only one watching, but, as you're watching and remaining engaged with the story you unconsciously negate that factor. It's okay, that's natural.
   Sports, on the other hand, along with certain types of shows including newscasts and reality television, tend to work in the opposite manner. Whereas narrative fiction is all about engaging one-on-one with the content, sports use the content to invoke a sense of unity between the largely unseen audiences. Here, the sports event is the spectacle, but because sports are inherently about a kind of a shared pride akin to something like nationalism within a country, it automatically presupposes this notion of 'us' - as in 'our team'. Not only do fans stand behind their team, but they also stand alongside - though not literally, at least when watching on TV - countless others, forming a collective group of fans who also share the same experience. This experience isn't the same as the kind you get from a show or film, especially these days when select episodes are available for download at any given moment or available for purchase on DVD. No, sports events are based solely on a fleeting moment in time, one that is often forgotten barring any memorable moments. What remains usually is the effect, either of a win or a loss, that carries over to the next game and remains cumulative over the course of a season.
   Take sports rivalries for example. Not only do they exist between the teams themselves, but fans also feel the same distaste for each other that the players do. And the fans tend to remember and relive old rivalries long after the players do in many cases - the San Jose Sharks and Calgary Flames have been rivals in the National Hockey League for years due to the Sharks besting the Flames in previous playoff series, and even though many players have come and gone in that time, the rivalry is still felt between the players, both rookies and veterans. And, of course, the fans on both sides have kept the 'flame' going (hur hur, pun!), due to the two teams facing each other in the 2008 playoffs.
   You can see this unity most clearly at sports bars, with everyone huddled together watching the television screens, cheering their team on in hopes of a victory. The fans watching the game on TV automatically have a kind of affinity for the fans in attendance at the actual game in that they're all watching the same game at the same time, and cheering for the same team. Get it?

   Yeah, it's getting late and my thoughts are starting to get a bit cloudy. I should get some sleep, not only because I have another early morning tomorrow, but because game five of the series between the Sharks and Flames is on tomorrow night. And you know I'll be watching, along with thousands of other Sharks fans. And with that, I give you ... Joe Thornton.

   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.
  

Cinephilia And History, or the Wind in the Trees

Christian Keathley

   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.

   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:

Citizen Kane (BFI Film Classics)

Laura Mulvey

Singin' in the Rain (BFI Film Classics)

Peter Wollen

   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:

Singin' in the Rain - Golf GTI Commercial

     Ah yes, the introduction. There always needs to be an introduction to every film, every book, every story. Hell, every blog too, I suppose. Every time I start up one of these things I always start with some kind of introductory post. "Hi, my name is Will. I like stuff and I hope you find me interesting enough to read my blog. Later!" One of those. For some reason it's just so hard for me to start up a blog en media res, because it feels so incomplete. Maybe that's why my films are almost never like that either (eventually I'll write a post dedicated to my take on filmmaking).

    So, let's see. What to write for an introduction. Oh, I know, I'll talk about why I'm starting yet another blog. The purpose of this blog is for me to talk solely about a subject that I've been studying now for the last three years: film. Given that I'm now in my fourth year of college and I've finally narrowed my focus to film history and theory, I figured I might as well start writing about film on a daily basis. I mean, I've been writing theoretical essays every few weeks for the past three years, so a couple of free-form posts shouldn't be too difficult to manage, right? Right...?
    They always say that you should never major in a subject you love, because it takes all the fun out of it. To a certain degree I'd say that's true; originally I came to college to major in creative writing, but I've seen put down the pen and concentrated on another area that has now changed my entire way of thinking. I can never watch a film the same way again, unfortunately, thanks to Sergei Eisenstein, Laura Mulvey, and Christian "Mirror Stage" Metz. Still, there's a part of me that feels like this is the way everyone should be thinking about film, because it's not (always) just a mass entertainment medium. It has the power to really move you, to make you think seriously about something. D.W. Griffith seemed to think so.
    I'm not going to just post film reviews and other trivial things that even a ten-year-old with a Xanga could do. I have more important thoughts in my head that sometimes I just can't keep bottled up, or ones that I just have to write down for my own importance before I forget it. Sure, I'll still post reviews here and there when I see a film worth watching (or one so utterly terrifying that you'll want to stray away from it completely), but I want this blog to have a more theoretical approach.
    Hell, I've got to deal with this stuff every day as a film major, so I might as well put it to use.

    And there's my introduction. It's a short one, but then again I spent most of my morning finishing up a four-page paper for one of my classes since it's due today. Besides, I've got some free time here at work, and I figured I might as well do something productive.
    Eventually I'll come up with a more interesting title for my blog, and maybe I'll change around the design when I feel like putting in the effort. I don't expect people to read this - much like my personal journal or my Live Journal that I update every month or so - but it does still feel like I'm writing for someone. An anonymous someone, I suppose. The imaginary audience. Until then, I'll think of something more important to write.