My teen angst bullshit has a body count...

So postmodernism is a topic that seems to be coming up in a few of my classes this semester, all at about the same time. While postmodernism interests me, I'm still having a hard time grasping exactly what it is or how to define it. If I'm slightly off-base with anything I say within this blog post, feel free to point it out to me and correct me! I appreciate it!

This was my second time seeing Heathers and I think I enjoyed it even more this time. I was glad to hear other people in the class seemed to disagree with Nick Burns' 'Scent of Dominance' essay and it wasn't just me. One of the things I did think was interesting that Burns brought up but didn't focus on was the feminist reading of the movie. He says that Veronica is oppressed by JD and that her father is 'clearly useless'; while I agree with both of these things, I want to point out that Veronica is also oppressed by the Heathers-- Veronica lets other people control her and doesn't stand up for herself in general-- and not just her father, but every adult in the movie, is 'clearly useless'.


We talked about JD a LOT in class, and I just want to bring him up again very briefly. Throughout the whole movie I found myself really wanting to like him, and searching for reasons to be able to although he just kept getting crazier and skeezier. Then in class we talked about how we are so used to having a charming, heroic male character that the female protagonist falls in love with, but we fall in love with too. And in a way, I felt JD had just a tiny bit of charm in some way. It's very much like Jack Nicholson's charm, or Heath Ledger's charm as joker-- we don't like them, they're very creepy, yet we're drawn to them and glad when they're on screen. When I think about it, there was only one truly sweet moment (to me) between JD and Veronica in the film-- when he saves her from her cow-tipping double date, and she's covered in cow poo and trying to avoid being pretty much raped by a jock. Maybe just that one moment where he took her away from all of that kind of softened me to him just the littlest bit.

One thing that really bothered me about Burns' article was that I felt like he was pretty much saying Heathers had no point, offered nothing to the audience, other than form and style. Like Dr. Strangelove, I thought Heathers was a satirical and dark social commentary, making us look critically at ourselves, our youth, our society. At the same time, it satirized the very idealized teen movies of the time that seemed to be offering teens answers to their problems, but these answers didn't work in real life. In a way I agree that the film gives no answers to teenage problems-- but I think the fact that it makes us look at society differently and see the ridiculousness of social hierarchy even within high schools, the extent of 'peer pressure' and how far kids will go to 'fit in', and the disconnection between older generations and youth is enough of a 'point' or 'answer'. Maybe there isn't a concrete answer to these problems, but by beginning to recognize them and see ourselves in a truer light is just a beginning for change. It seems like Heathers was one of the first films of its kind, and it was a preface to movies like Mean Girls-- which is a very similar story but more contemporary.



I suppose ending my blog by talking about the end of the film would be appropriate. I myself wasn't sure how to take the ending. Has nothing changed within the high school or has it changed slightly because Veronica is now in charge and people will be nicer and happier but overall the hierarchy remains? I'm not sure-- we can't really know what will happen the next day or the next year within the school. We talked about the red scrunchy being an 'empty signifier'; we know it represents power to these girls, but the object itself really doesn't stand for anything. I thought that maybe Veronica knew this herself. I read her putting the scrunchy on as a kind of, "Things are going to be the way I want them to be now, not the Heather way." Does this mean she's going to wear it to school every day now and everyone will fear but also worship her? I doubt it. But does it mean that the hierarchy and stereotyped groups within the school will now disappear? I doubt that too. Maybe just little things like Martha Dunnstock now having a friend should be comfort enough to viewers. That's how I took it.

Shaft!

I had a very hard time "dissecting" Shaft this week beyond thinking it was a funny and entertaining movie about this bad-ass black man. I feel like the reading and class discussion helped me out a little, though, so here goes nothing...

One of the most interesting things to me in both watching the film and reading the article was the idea of the 'power of masculinity' within the movie. The article said that since Shaft is black and not white, therefore 'inferior', he must use his dominance of masculinity over femininity instead to prove his power. Shaft's relationships with the women in the movie really pissed me off, but it also makes so much sense to me in the context of the time and woman's "role" in culture at the time.

When we first see Shaft with his "girlfriend" (Ellie, I think her name was?), I almost thought that maybe Shaft had this ultra sweet and sensitive side and was in this committed, loving relationship. Thinking that he could be this hard, bad-ass cop by day and sweet, sensitive boyfriend by night made me really love him. I saw the pictures of Shaft and Ellie sitting on the coffee table beside them while they had the foreplay on the couch and I thought they only confirmed my belief that they were in a steady, loving relationship. But nope, turns out Shaft is a promiscuous womanizer who is letting this woman put obsessive pictures of him in her apartment and tell him she loves him, and he's just getting laid behind her back. Although this made me like his character less, like I said before, it really made sense that Shaft took advantage of his dominance over women in a time and society where he couldn't take his full "power as a man" because he wasn't white.

The other thing that intrigued me that was touched upon in both the article and class on Thursday was the argument over whether Shaft as a character was a "role model for the black community" or just a "product of the white studio imagination and merely a 'black-skinned replica' of a white action hero". I don't think I'm really entitled to answer that question, not having seen enough white action films or black action films to form an opinion, but what I think is really fascinating about the situation is the time period the film was made in and how much that effects the representation of the character. Filmed in the early 70s, Shaft came into being right after the Civil Rights movement-- racial tensions were still so high. I feel like the character was an extremely risky one for Richard Roundtree to portray-- he took the chance of offending white audiences with a character that is "too black" and the chance of offending black audiences for a black character who misrepresented the race. I wish I could know what the actor himself thought of the character. What do you guys think about this question?

I wish I could do a little more comparison of Shaft vs. typical action heroes of our movies today as we did in class, but I feel like I'm completely under-qualified to do so. Actions movies really aren't my thing. I'm interested to see what the rest of the group might have to say on that though. I suppose this is all for now!

(By the way, do not image search "shaft women" or "shaft ellie" when looking for pictures for this blog...)

Hey guys--

Just wanted to say this will be my second skipped blog. Also, I just realized I never commented on blogs last week-- going home for the weekend made it TOTALLY slip my mind I guess. I apologize for that and will go back to leave comments this weekend, even if I get points off for being so behind.

Dr. Strangelove

Dr. Strangelove really reminded me of Joseph Heller's Catch-22, a novel I had to read, write about, and present on in my senior year of high school. I really used my ideas on the novel to help form my perceptions of this movies, so I hope none of you mind if I take some time to draw some comparisons.

Like Dr. Strangelove, Catch-22 is satirical and full of dark humor-- Heller wrote it in a style that would emphasize the absurdity of mankind and war. The 'catch-22' within the novel is that the main character, Yossarian, a WWII bombardier, wants permission to end his duties flying in the war. He is constantly told that the only people who are allowed to stop flying are 'crazy' people, and the only ones considered 'crazy' are those who truly want to keep flying. There are an overwhelming amount of characters within the novel, something meant to emphasize the absurdity and confusion of war by making the reader feel truly confused themselves. Like Kubrick's characters, Heller's are given comical and bizarre names-- like General Scheisskopf (translates to shithead in German), Major Major Major Major, and Milo Minderbinder, just to name a few.

Drawing comparisons between Heller's novel and Kubrick's film makes me really think about WHY dark humor and satire work so well in this kind of anti-war pieces. I really liked the portion of our article in class that discusses how Kubrick began writing and forming Dr. Strangelove as a serious script, but it sort of naturally began to shift toward dark humor. In a way, I feel like this is the only way media and art can effectively critique mankind and war-- to reveal absurdity through more absurdity, in comedy and satire. How else can we truthfully represent a war in which two countries built enough bombs to destroy the world, but still acted as if it was not too dangerous or risky?

Heller's work focused on the ridiculousness of WWII, Dr. Strangelove on the Cold War, and in class we were asked to think about how a writer or filmmaker might portray the current war in the Middle East similarly. This made me think of an episode of Scrubs where the characters get into a debate over being either Democrats or Republicans. Dr. Cox points out the several reasons given by American politicians to justify the war-- sometimes it's oil, sometimes terrorism, sometimes it's because of nuclear weaponry. I think this would be a good place to start on an anti-war-in-the-Middle-East satirical work-- highlighting that there was no one concrete reason for this war, but a plethora of uncertainties that politicians chose to focus on at different times in order to try to justify the crisis.

I thought Dr. Strangelove was a success as a film because it did two things really well- it made me laugh, and it also made me reflect on our country's history, the Cold War, and war in general. I think it's interesting that there is a way for media to present ideas about war that entertains but also informs, and that's why dark humor is so fitting for anti-war themes.

Deren and Brakhage

This week was odd.

I think I'll start with Maya Deren. This was the first time in our class I watched a film and wasn't struggling to make a story out of it. It seemed like a lot of people in class had their own ideas of what was going on within these short films, but I truly watched them and thought a lot about what the camera was doing, and what film in general can do that no other art form can. I tried to kind of strip my mind of everything I think about film, and think about it different. What I mean is, I tried to imagine how revolutionary the camera and film must have been for audiences that weren't used to the special effects our generation knows so well. Nothing phases us in movies any more, because we know that with computers, anything is possible on screen. But it's interesting to think about what is possible with only a camera, no other technology.

I noticed quirks about the camera right off the bat. The very first shot in "Meshes of the Afternoon" showed an arm lowering a flower onto pavement-- pretty simple. But it was shot in such a way that it appeared the arm was unnaturally long, almost creepy. Without any special effects, I believed that this arm was inhuman. We talked about the effect of the tilting camera on the staircase in class. With just an easy tilted back and forth of the camera, audiences experience the sensation of walking-- and truly believing the staircase is tilting, throwing this woman around.



There were so many images captured in this movie that could be captured by no other medium in the art world. Only with a camera can we watch waves rolling and not hear their crash, see them go in reverse and retreat from the shore, or see them slow down to an unnatural pace, inching forward. Only through film can we experience a dancer frozen in midair, suspended for seconds, and then fall to the ground at true speed and continue on.

I feel like Maya Deren really made me see the uniqueness of film as an art form. It is the only thing that can capture 'reality' as we see it. It is the only medium that can capture the movement of a curtain blowing the wind-- something so uncomplicated yet in a way revolutionary. In her essay she discussed the manipulation of time and space through film. These days we take for granted that manipulation I think, creating entire new worlds and creatures with computers. It was cool to see how with only a camera, an audience can be coerced into suspending their disbelief that reality has been stretched and made unfamiliar.



Stan Brakhage's creations also provided a completely new experience for me in film. His were even harder to dissect and take in than Deren's. First I want to talk about his 'Mothlight', the one I liked the most (I know I'm not supposed to say that, but I can't think of another way). I admit, when Mothlight started I was like "Ok... this is weird." After a few moments I was kind of looking around the classroom, wondering when it would end. Then I remembered what Dr. McRae told us about Brakhage's intentions for his audience with his films-- that he wanted the audience to be as close to the visual experience as possible with as little distraction as possible. After remembering that, I forced myself to focus on the screen and not look away. The sensation of this was cool- it was like feeling the texture of a moth with my eyes. There were no true images of a moth, but just with abstractions the 'feeling of moth' was communicated.

We talked so much about 'Window Water Baby Moving' in class that I don't want to focus very much on it. What I will say is that it made me experience childbirth in a way that I never had before in any film-- whether some stupid romantic comedy or 'The Miracle of Life' in high school Bio. I think I might need to still mull this one over before I know what to truly make of it.

Deren and Brakhage's works are much to take in for the untrained eye. As Brakhage wrote, his films are for an audience with a developed optical mind, those who have perception that is deep and original. I feel like I qualify for none of these things, but just to begin to try has been fun and interesting.

La Dolce Vita!

So, I'm struggling with this movie a little bit; I think because we weren't able to talk about it in class, the reading was a difficult read for me, and it's just ridiculous to me that I'm sitting in my living room at home on spring break trying to think about this movie, and not on campus. I'm going to give it a go anyway...

To me, this film was just a massive array of fashion, women, parties, sex, alcohol, dysfunctional relationships, and oddly-- religion. Throughout the entire three hours, I felt like I wasn't quite sure what I should feel, or what the movie was supposed to make me feel I guess. Was it praising this loose lifestyle that was all fun and games and no morals? Was is criticizing it? I didn't know.

I knew Marcello was our main character, but I never felt like we were completely in his point of view. It was more like we were watching him, we were never shown clearly how he felt about his life. On top of this, he was quite confusing! There are times when we watch him struggle, seeming to question his journalism career and it's worth. In the end though, he switches from journalism to public relations (I think?) which to me just seems like a move toward digging himself deeper into this life dictated by celebrity "high life".

We also saw Marcello's relationship with his girlfriend Emma. At times it seemed like he truly cared for her, but then he would just go and treat her like complete crap again. Emma was the only character who seemed truly concerned with love, emotion, and moral value, but she was so over-the-top with her own emotions that it was impossible to appreciate her. Then there is Marcello's relationship with Maddalena, who tells Marcello she loves him while being seduced by another man simultaneously.

The religious aspects of the film were especially hard for me to grasp. I could easily see how people thought the film was doing nothing more than mocking Catholicism. The way I took it was that like all else in the film, religion became a hype and no longer a moral lifestyle. Especially in the "miracle" scene, which was just so ridiculous-- these people cared about the shock of a possible miracle, the hype and publicity surrounding it, but not the meaning of it (although it's quite obviously a farce anyway).

I'm not exactly sure where to go from here. I feel like I have much more to say, but I have no clue what direction to go in with my thoughts. This week made me realize how helpful our class discussion is. I'll leave this here and maybe with some comments and advice I can refine my interpretations a bit more. Thanks!

Last Year at Marienbad

I'm gonna go with Dr. McRae on this one and say that in a way, I loved this movie, but I also hated it. I'm not going to lie and say it wasn't extremely difficult to keep myself awake for the whole thing. I was really glad that we were told beforehand to not try to understand what was going on, but rather take it in and enjoy it. That, "Oh my god, I need to analyze this movie in the exact right way because it's for a class" feeling was swept away and I was sort of able to ask myself what I thought of the movie and what I got out of it.

The first thing I noticed and enjoyed was the poetic, sensual language. Those first lines, repeated over and over again, were so descriptive and full of imagery. Although they didn't really tell a story, they gave vivid pictures accompanied by true images of the castle/hotel. I thought this sort of language continued throughout the film-- many of X's lines were like little pictures or little scraps of memory. If you put them together you'd be left with a loose, unfinished and unreliable story, but if you didn't try so hard you could just take in the descriptions and images that went along with them.

The odd narrative was something I could almost grasp, but the other abnormal things having to do with filming really threw me for a loop. The thing I noticed most was the stilted, artificial acting-- which really shoved in your face that this story is not real life, it is a film. As the camera travels around the hotel, and we are presumably seeing things through X's eyes, the people and conversations around him are so stop-and-go. The people are almost like statues, just waiting for their lines and then returning to their static poses. Then there is a scene where X recalls seeing A on the balcony above the garden a year earlier; he narrates the memory as if it is merely stage directions, and A reacts as if she is an amateur actress reading a script for the first time, responding rigidly to the directions. Moments like this, to me, really emphasized that X is possibly constructing false memories in his head as he goes along, and these things may not have truly happened-- but we will never truly know.

In class we discussed the game that is played and constantly won by M. To me, this game is a reflection of the high-class, elite lifestyle carried on by most of the hotel's inhabitants. It is a game of form and rigidity, and it is played over and over again with the same outcome each time. This seems to be what drives X crazy about the people surrounding him, and is what makes him question the reality of it all. X attempts to win the game more than once, but no matter what moves he makes he cannot-- like we said in class, this seems to represent the fact that despite his efforts, X cannot figure out a way to escape this Cartesian life that tortures him.



Another recurring image that caught my attention was the statue of the man and woman. X and A discuss the statue, trying to figure out what exactly is happening between the two sculpted figures-- is the man protecting the woman from something or is the woman pulling the man back in an attempt to save him? The answer is unclear. This is also how I saw the relationship between X and A-- was X trying to save A from an elitist, redundant life or was he hoping A could save him from his own mind and affirm that his existence is not the only true life or true reality? In a way both seem true; A is the only other hotel guest X sees that seems to have qualities of life and freedom, and he clings to this hoping she will free him from the solipsism that tortures him.


The thought of solipsism is really cool to me. I get almost a weird pleasure freaking myself out thinking about it. To think that every being around me might just be a construct of my own mind, and mine is the only true reality, is really freaking berserk. Anyway, I think I will end here before I start confusing myself too much...