Friday, December 13, 2013

Deleuze: Thought and Cinema - Reactions

Thought and Cinema is a very dense and meticulous chapter to cover. I may have to come back and do multiple revisions to this post to do it justice, but I'll go ahead with what I take to be Deleuze's main effort throughout each section.

In section 1, I believe that Deleuze is illustrating the nature of thought in conjunction with the movement image, using the early film directors as evidence of developing an approach to cinema as a type of thought itself. Automatic movement, for Deleuze, produces a shock, a stimulus that forces or compels us to think. The spiritual automaton is key here because it demonstrates that, under the movement image, we both react to and think about its contents. "The spiritual automaton no longer designates  - as it does in classical philosophy - the logical or abstract possibility of formally deducing thoughts from each other, but the circuit into which they enter with the movement image, the shared power of what forces thinking and what thinks under the shock."

So, we are doing some type of thinking when we perceive moving images. Deleuze argues that early film directors embraced this type of view in regards to the shock effect of cinema. His lengthy treatment of Eisenstein is perhaps meant to capture that director's main conception of cinema and montage: as the linkage of conflicting units which force us to think a whole. So, image A and image B are related into montage, and the viewer is left to think about what they make as a whole. What is the end production of image A and image B when edited together? Thus, Deleuze argues that Eisenstein's whole view was that cinematic images are a kind of primitive thinking that is hooked into our internal, subconscious drives. "The view that the cinematographic image proceeds through figures, and reconstitutes a kind of primitive thought, is to be found in many authors, notably Epstein."

Deleuze later argues that this type of scheme forms a circuit which is how thought functions when watching images (p. 161 in particular is a good summary). All these different movements between image, thought, and back to the image, according to Deleuze, point towards the unity or relation of man with the world. I'm a bit confused as to how, but if I had to guess, it would be to the extent that the sensory motor scheme (which governs the action image) is heavily related to how we perceive things actually in reality. The movement image presents us with movement that we can interpolate into our own phenomenological existence; its similarity to how we actually move and perceive objects in the real world seems to forge a link between ourselves and how things actually are in the world.

Deleuze ends up concluding that the movement image produces three relations to thought: (1) a relation to a specific whole (which, I would argue is the specific end goal or outcome of a screened scenario, or the product of the editing together or multiple images), (2) a specific subconscious thought that happens in unfolding of images (which thus limits our thought because it is still confined to the images, not to the outside or original sources), and (3) the link between world and man, nature and thought. Deleuze's main goal in section one would seem to be the treatment of thought in the context of the movement image. Important distinctions might be that, at its core, the movement image traps thought within the image itself.


In section 2, I think the link between Deleuze and Benjamin is almost nearly confirmed. He begins by treating the politics of the movement film, concluding that it is marked by quantitative mediocrity and fascism of production (Benjamin, word for word almost). The dilemma in this section is thus: how can we conceive of a new way of thinking through cinema if moving images render us like zombies and can be used for purposes of propaganda? It would seem like film is better at conditioning us than inspiring us to think.

Deleuze's solution, ironically, lies within his analysis of Artaud and his opposition to the views of Eisenstein (according to Deleuze). On p. 166, Deleuze's analysis of Artaud would seem to conclude like this: Artaud has a reactionary view of thought, in that, thought is always about whatever stimulus it encounters. It's this powerlessness that defines Artaud's view and promotes the cinema as the theft of ideas. Deleuze argues that Artaud only believes in cinema to the extent that it advances or makes known our powerlessness of thought. In many ways, this viewpoint degenerates into the same concern that Benjamin has concerning film and moving images: that we cannot contemplate them once they are in motion (the same quote by Duhamel is even used).

What happens, according to Deleuze, is that Artaud is in stark opposition to Eisenstein. If Eisenstein posited cinema as an apparatus in which we can contemplate the whole of moving images or relate them to our internal monologues, then Artaud has completely overturned this position. "It is the totality of cinema-thought relations that Artaud overturns."

I think that Deleuze is using Artaud specifically to focus on how the powerlessness of thought is really a productive phenomenon. In the next parts, he questions how this is all relevant to film, arguing that film has as its essence thought. Thought becomes the higher purpose of (good) cinema. He uses Schefer to argue that the suspension of the world in cinema marks the time when the inadequacy of the movement image shows itself. Page 169 in particular chronicles the switch to the time image.

Deleuze's radical conclusion is that cinema is inherently invested in the world because it can provide reasons to believe in the link between man and world, man and nature. The powerlessness of thought, according to him, is itself a part of thought that should be cultivated. He argues this because cinema seems to be in a relationship with belief (it is very Catholic, according to Deleuze). We may have lost our faith in the world, but cinema is where we can restore it. Using Godard, he argues that the world begins to look like a bad film to us. The linkage to it that was so assured in the movement image has to be re-thought in new terms in order for us to believe in the world again. Deleuze concludes by saying, "We need an ethic or a faith, which makes fools laugh; it is not a need to believe in something else, but a need to believe in this world, of which fools are a part."

I think that section 2 is ultimately concerned with the transition to the time image and how it can affect thought and our view of the world. In my paper I argued that social forces come to show that the movement image can no longer address the problems of reality, to which the time image can respond. Perhaps this is what Deleuze is hinting at. He states that we need to believe in the world, and cinema (when not constrained to the action image) might be able to express different modes of belief, different ways of viewing man and the world that heretofore have not been considered.

I feel lost and adrift in section 3, mainly because Deleuze uses some really abstract terminology. I gather his basic premise, I think. There seems to be a certain Kierkegaardian notion of faith involved in film, and the idea that film provides us with different modes of existence through choice that can reinforce our belief in the world. "This is a cinema of modes of existence, of confrontation of these modes, and of their relation to an outside on which both the world and the ego depend."

On page 180, Deleuze seems to argue that the main power of the time image is in its breaking out of the linkage of images, going beyond the movement image and the teleologically driven scenario present in action image film. His conclusion is that the three relationships to thought from the movement image are radically reversed and we are left with belief in the world.

I'll admit, I'm a bit unclear on section three and I was hoping we could wade through it more systematically so I can understand all of Deleuze's arguments. I lack the technical language like Deleuze, but from what I can tell, this chapter is concerned with the transition to time image cinema and how it affects our thought. If we accept his arguments, than the way Deleuze's films do philosophy is by their being interested in belief and the world. Film is an extension of our beliefs about man and the world, which, in some sense, philosophy tries to accomplish as well. So, I suppose I would agree with Sinnerbrink's conclusion that Deleuze's film is a response to nihilism. I'm just unclear with all the sub-arguments beneath that distinction.

I'm glad that I read this section because I feel more comfortable in asserting the link between Benjamin and Deleuze. Both now seem to share the same viewpoint: the action image robs us of creative thought. It is thought in response to stimuli, but the thought is forced and unoriginal. The time image frees thought and provides what Deleuze calls "free indirect discourse and vision."

I wonder what Deleuze would think about La Jetee?

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Thoughts About Stalker

So, I've finally been able to finish Stalker in it's entirety. What an impressive film if not philosophically, than certainly visually. Besides containing some pretty striking imagery, Tarkovsky manages to move the camera and frame his characters in really exciting ways. Watching this reminded me of how formulaic and predictable modern cinema (especially American) has become. Stalker not only made me actively engage with it, it forced me to think about what was going on. Perhaps this is part of the reason why some people cannot make it through the film. It certainly plods along at certain times and the pacing is generally slow, but the reward is that we're presented with a rich philosophical puzzle at the end that begs probing. Not to be of the analytic puzzle film tradition, but this certainly lends itself to inspection.

We discussed many of the things that others see in Stalker. How the characters represent stark archetypes of Soviet life. The writer as the positivistic entity. The scientist as the mystic and superstitious one. What I think really stands out as the hallmark feature of the film is the religious motifs. At the very end when they reach the thresh hold of the room, the writer briefly dons a crown of thorns, perhaps suggesting that his immanent crucifixion is upon him. What is he being punished for? His lack of faith in the zone? It seems to me that the Stalker himself would be a better fit for the crown. He is very much like the Jesus figure in the story, leading his disciples through the zone and ultimately failing to deliver them into hopefulness. At the end, he curses his life's quest that he continues to take people into the zone. He declares that everyone, writers and scientists, have lost their faith and refuse to indulge in hope. They don't need the zone because they can live and continue to exist despite their wretched conditions. Is the Stalker the Zarathustra of the story? You may recall how Nietzsche's titular character takes a certain affinity to animals. The dog follows the Stalker out of the zone and intends to stay with him, being taken in to the home. It features prominently in many of the shots of the movie. But what to make of it?

The theme of the time image plays a large part in this film. During the ending sequence when the three men sit outside the thresh hold and watch the rain falling, the camera remains still, focusing on them for nearly a minute or two. Having now seen the film, I can agree that Deleuze's intentions become much better understood through Tarkovsky. What is the memory or recollection that is linked to this time image? What are the planes of existence that it passes through?

Finally, what to make of the psychokinetic girl at the end? She pushes off the only glass that isn't full with something and it doesn't break at the bottom. Also, she's framed in color in contrast to the black and white scenes immediately preceding. She is supposedly a mutant, linked with the zone in someway, thus the color could perhaps be an allusion to her ailment. Unlike Cavell, I'm going to have to watch this one again to discern a more contestable interpretation....

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Paper # 2 - Ideas

For the second paper, I think I'd like to explore Deleuze's concepts of the cinema and the time image and try to re-construct an investigation of films doing philosophy by applying his concepts. In other words, I'd like to try and discover if films can make independent, original contributions to philosophy under the Deleuzian framework. My guess is that, given what the time image represents and how Deleuze's concepts play out, the method will be a bit easier (or more open) than simply going for a contestable interpretation.

Here are a few reasons why (and I'll elaborate on these in the paper): (1) Deleuze's method gives us a general ontology of the moving image versus the time image. These two images seem to be inextricably present in most if not all films (time image much less often). So, most films will be able to be "fitted" into a Deleuzian framework in virtue of these basic elements. (2) We can take issue with the framework itself, but like Sinnerbrink, it's a particular type of interpretation, albeit more technical.

Here's what I think I'm going to propose (and perhaps with a specific example): Using the concepts of time image, recollection image, dream image, and world image, we might be able to demonstrate that cinema is a reflection of life and the life process, thus most films are inherently invested in this life process. Let me break that down. In life, we encounter the sensory motor schema of perceptions leading to actions (I see an object and move upon it). But, we also form recollection and dream images (the virtual images that help us comprehend things in the present). Deleuze is actually arguing for the union of complex physical and mental stimuli in the idea that the real and the imaginary co-interact, and direct time images can pass through various "planes" of mental existence (through the dream, the recollection, etc.). So, when I see a cup in front of me, I can think about it in purely optical and sonic means, passing its image through various images of cups before me IN MY MIND that represent recollection, dreams, etc. Cinema can and does do this, according to Deleuze. To conclude, then, cinema is philosophy because it actively engages with the processes of life, just as philosophy does. It enables different ways to see the world, through the mingling of images.

I would call that the weaker thesis of the two I am thinking of. The stronger one, I think, is the idea that Deleuze is positing a sort of dualism by arguing for the union of the real and the virtual, the mind with the physical stimuli. I might investigate this line of inquiry instead of doing another film-philosophy test like the first paper. Actually, I think it's a bit more interesting, and perhaps more worthwhile because the evidence is directly present in the text. Although, perhaps I could relate this dualistic tendency to film, and also to philosophy....

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Sinnerbrink's Film Philosophy: Potential Heidegger Connections

I was reading over the Coda in Sinnerbrink's book and I got to thinking about how the film-philosophy movement plays out. He ends up defining it as a romantic-reflexive movement that uses hermeneutical means to move beyond simply being explanatory, argumentative, or theoretical.

From this, I draw the idea that Sinnerbrink's film-philosophy concept seems to concern the idea that films do indeed speak - they say something to us, of which we must interpret. Our preconceptions of theory, argument, and explanatory frameworks don't let us experience the film - they simply offer a playground for philosophy to re-affirm itself.

If this is the case, then I find that Heidegger's writing on The Origin of the Work of Art fits in somewhat nicely with the film-philosophy aim. It's a rather dense read so I won't go too much into it, but a quick summary might do: (1) Heidegger is after the thingly thingness of art - what makes an artwork an artwork? (2) He denounces the matter-form distinction as offering any glimpse of the true thingness of art because that leads us to conceive of things as pure equipment. (3) He argues that artworks speak to us and unconceal their being. Art is literally "the becoming and happening of truth" (p.354).

Here's a passage that I think ties nicely into our present inquiry: "The work's reality is determined in its basic features by the nature of the work's being. We can now return to our opening question: how do matters stand with the work's thingly feature that is to guarantee its immediate reality? They stand so that now we no longer raise this question about the work's thingly element; for as long as we ask it, we take the work directly and as a foregone conclusion, as an object that is simply there. In that way we never question in terms of the work, but in our own terms. In our terms - we, who then do not let the work be a work but view it as an object that is supposed to produce this or that state of mind in us" (p. 352).

Notice how this fits into many of the problems Sinnerbrink discusses. Taking the work as a foregone conclusion is perhaps how the analytic/cognitivist sees film, as an object that is simply there. When we question a work in our own terms, perhaps we question a film through philosophy, completely cutting off the simple experience of the film's Being. This wouldn't let the film be a film (work be a work) but an object that merely produces some state of mind.

What is the truth of Being for Heidegger? What is the truth of film? I interpret Heidegger as meaning that the truth that is unconcealed in artworks is the very pure and simple nature of their Being - a bold affirmation of "that it is." That's how they speak to us. A Being that is free of human concepts (such as equipmentality). What is the truth of film? Perhaps it's whatever we make of it using the hermeneutical method. The point is that we have allowed ourselves to experience the film. If it's so difficult to know true Being, to understood truth in unconcealedness, then it makes sense why we have a hard time accepting interpretations of films by various philosophers. Heidegger asserts that we never know thingness - we never know the Being of the world directly. The Being of artworks - the truth that they reveal, is a semi-mystical experience that we must interpret.

Perhaps it's no surprise that Cavell uses Heidegger from time to time...
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Quotes from:
Heidegger, Martin. "The Origin of the Work of Art." In Art and Interpretation. Ed. Eric Dayton. Toronto, ON: Broadview Press, 1998. 345-354. Print.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

The Power of Interpretation

Something that has interested me both in aesthetics and film is the act of interpretation. What do we do when we interpret? Are we really de-coding a message that is hidden in the subtext of a film? Are we simply projecting our internal desires/consciousness/or experience into a given work?

If you get a chance, take a look at this short film, Room 237. It's an analysis and interpretation of Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. Part of what fascinates me so much in this film (besides the inherent content) is how wide and deep an interpretation can be. One guy claims it's about the genocide of native americans. Another speculates that Kubrick is actually confessing about the fake apollo 11 moon landing, and that he supposedly filmed it himself. 

These sound incredibly far fetched, but things become tricky when certain objects or details that they point out start making sense. Here's a dilemma: on the one hand, The Shining is notorious for the ambiguity of its meaning, and we are dealing with Stanley Kubrick, perhaps one of the greatest film directors of all time (his genius, the entire cerebral context of his work, cannot be overstated). Thus, some interpretation that attempts to make sense of things (turning phenomena into noumena!) is perhaps warranted - even encouraged. But where do we draw the line? How to we know that interpretation is "getting it right?" This ties into the Sinnerbrink dilemma about the intentionality of film and how film's can philosophize by themselves.

So, what is really happening when we interpret? What is happening when films "do philosophy?" I mention this stuff because (1) there is an awesome paper topic floating around here and (2) Halloween is nearing and who doesn't love The Shining right? I would absolutely love if we could discuss this film briefly in one of our next meetings.



Monday, October 7, 2013

Paper # 1 - Ideas

(1) The Ontology of Film
 Sinnerbrink spends a lot of time in the beginning chapters discussing the evolution of film and what its ontology could consist of. He notes many developments, such as digital and color film, the actual movement of the image, and modern filmmaking techniques that have changed how cognitivists and medium essentialists look at what a film is. Furthermore, films like La Jete challenge the traditional notion of what it means to be a moving picture. A possible paper topic might be a small treatment of the history of film's ontology followed by a defense of what I'd consider would be the best way to look at it. In other words, how and why should we think of a film's ontology, and what specific contexts come bound up with that?

(2) Other Films that Do Philosophy
Sinnerbrink thinks that a film can be originally philosophical outside the grounds of an overarching philosophical system or theory. Part of the problem with his goal is how difficult a notion this is to comprehend, especially outside explicit examples. The task here would be to pick another film and write a short paper on its contribution to the film as philosophy mindset.

(3) Evaluate, Compare/Contrast
Sinnerbrink covers many different arguments from various philosophers in his book. Perhaps a paper could be written discussing two of these theories (most likely opposing) and their influence on Sinnerbrink's goal of a marriage of film and philosophy.


Please feel free to comment on any of these or add some new ideas.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Wartenburg and how films can do philosophy

Here's a nice little article that discusses Wartenburg's (mentioned in chapter 6 of Sinnerbrink) view that The Matrix does philosophy by actively engaging its viewers in a thought experiment, thus upholding the view that if philosophy can do thought experiments, and those experiments are conducive to one's "doing philosophy," then a film that enacts these experiments is thus doing philosophy itself. He adds some other qualifications but that's the basic view that I take from it.

http://www.inessentials.com/2011/06/06/film-as-philosophy-a-skeptical-thought-experiment/

Friday, September 13, 2013

The "So Bad it's Good" Phenomenon

I wanted to briefly comment on the phenomena of the "so bad it's good" film, or "B" movie if you will (though some 'B' movies retain a higher quality than that of the films I am thinking of). What is it about these bad films that makes us enjoy them? Furthermore, does it suggest something about the judgment of films and taste, and how the aesthetic relation between a view and a film is fundamentally distinct and subjective. Sure, we can usually have a general consensus as to what films are groundbreaking, important, or culturally significant. We can detect cinematic garbage when we see it. But what do we make of the phenomenological experience of a film that's so bad it's good? Here's an example par excellence that demonstrates what I'm thinking of. Let's take Troll 2, a film that has garnered a huge cult following for its terrible acting, editing, directing, writing, effects, you name it. Despite this, it remains wildly hilarious and surprisingly enjoyable. It's probably the best worst film I've ever seen. Take a look at this scene (I know the title is ridiculous but trust me it's worth it).






Don't lie, you laughed at how horrible it is! But wasn't it kind of entertaining? Movies like this cast doubt on any objective, essential feature of a film that would make it enjoyable or 'good.' Perhaps they even cut across medium essentialism, or film content essentialism (for none of Troll's content is what might be deemed 'essential.').

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

A Critic Looks at Rear Window



Please see Jonathan Rosenbaum's blog for an insightful take on Hitchcock's Rear Window.

From Rosenbaum's essay:

One reason Hitchcock loved working with such technical restrictions is that they forced him to use his ingenuity. In an impressive oeuvre, Rear Window is arguably the most exquisitely handcrafted feature, because Hitchcock mastered the spatial as well as behavioral coordinates of his chosen universe inch by inch. He can’t juggle foreground and background the way Tati could a decade later by using deep focus in Playtime, but it seems at times that he’s on the edge of some of the same perceptual possibilities — drafting the rudiments of a cinema of long shots that invites viewers to choose among the sights and events competing for their attention.

Rear Window has often been described as Hitchcock’s testament because it sums up so many of his ideas about filmmaking: his fascination with voyeurism, his love of technical restrictions (which had also motivated Lifeboat and Rope), and his cultivation of certain stars — it was the second time he’d used Stewart (Rope) and Kelly (Dial M for Murder). It also sums up his ideas about editing, especially as a means for soliciting the audience’s involvement in the action.
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