Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Psychoanalysis in Cinema, Art, and Society
Gazes in Rear Window
When Lisa first arrives in Rear Window, she is basically the center of attention. Jeffries has his neighbors to look at, but at this point their actions are generally mundane and uninteresting. Both the viewer and the camera would prefer to focus on Lisa rather than anything else. This is then a scopophilic gaze where Lisa is the object. In relation to myth, the camera, Jeffries and the viewer are one side and Lisa is the other, forming a gaze.
Eventually, Jeffries convinces Lisa that something fishy is going on with his neighbor, and they decied to investigate it together. At this point Lisa changes from being the object of the gaze, to, along with Jefferies and the viewer, being the gazer of something more important. Like a higher level myth, all the participants of the first gaze become simply the viewers in a higher gaze, in which the mysterious and bizarre actions of Thorwald are the new images to be viewed. In this way, Lisa has escaped from being the object of the gaze, just as one myth can lose its history by becoming the signifier in a higher myth. This suggests that a spectacle or something out of the ordinary can destroy the scopophilic gaze of the viewer by offering a gaze of a higher level.
Private Optical Colonialism
“That’s a secret and private world you’re looking into out there. People do a lot of things in private that they couldn’t explain in public.”
When Doyle delivered this line, all I could think of was the stipulation in the Fourth Amendment about objects in plain view, and my high school government teacher’s subsequent (and slightly sarcastic) warning against any attempt to grow marijuana in our backyards if we had low fences.
Rear Window seems to explore the possibilities of what happens when a variety of seemingly private actions occur in plain view; does plain view constitute as public? Either way, this ambiguity seems of particular relevance to documentary film, television news and photography in general, if we are reading Jeff’s voyeurism as Hitchcock’s commentary on the nature of cinema itself. In documentaries, news, and images of people rather than images of characters, what is being preyed on and peered into is reality itself. What are the boundaries of a camera’s freedom? The camera has the ability to capture images and events that transcend its own physical presence - in that a lens can capture and reveal very distant places and things - and to reveal these images and events to individuals who were elsewhere. The camera transforms the voyeurism of one into the voyeurism of a thousand, well, more than a thousand, but I don't know the exact number of spectators in the world.
The phrase “optical colonialism” from Sneads’ article is of particular relevance. As spectators, we follow the camera’s venturing to and from distant lands and relish in the foreign visual souvenirs it has collected. To what extent should the camera enter private lands, however? Doyle would undoubtedly say to no extent whatsoever. But the law, while not condoning trespassing, would probably support the documentation of whatever is in plain view. A camera allows us to trespass without ourselves physically trespassing; it essentially allows us to legally trespass. When a scandal occurs, we tend to think and question less of how the news came to be and more of the news or the scandal itself.
As a completely different topic, the concreteness and absolute terms got me searching for a contradiction. I was thinking of Ceddo in particular; how do you think Mulvey would perceive Dior? She belongs to a patriarchal society, she more or less effectively castrates a man (by killing him). I'm not quite sure I understand where she fits into Mulvey's theories.
Looking at Anne
After watching the movie, I was comforted by a few things. Firstly, King Kong is an old movie, released in 1933. This was a very long time ago... perhaps this caricature is not still applicaple... secondly, it is only a movie-- and Anne was, like I said, a caricature. Anne's lack of identity--her unability to express herself in any way-- is necessary to juxtapose with Kongs forceful, larger-than-life-like presence.
However, this to-be-looked-at-ness still exsists, and is in full-force today in modern cinema. We are often told that "sex sells", and this seems to be true. The public is often unwilling to participate in a viewing if they do not have something beautiful to look at. I wonder if the camera as a window helps to create this iconic relationship between beauty and helplessness. I also wonder if we are anywhere closer to abolishing this strict to-be-looked-at-ness-- that strips the woman down and objectifies her-- than we were in the first half of the 20th century.
Grace Kelly is To-Be-Looked-At.
It was not just the act of appearing in the window that granted Lisa subjectivity—she was behaving as the protagonist, the (usually male) hero of the film that was being acted out in the window before Jeff’s eyes. He himself was immobilized and could not investigate the salesman’s apartment. So Lisa did it for him. Much in the same way as when we watch a traditional detective film, we ourselves cannot leave our seats in the auditorium to investigate the scene of the crime, so we identify with the detective as he does it for us. By assuming this (traditionally male) role of detective, Lisa became a subject to Jeff.
The other thing that struck me about Lisa (I mean, the other academic thing, because mostly what struck me about Lisa was that she looked fantastic in every scene, which, I suppose, is a point in and of itself) was that she very literally interrupts the narrative with her to-be-looked-at-ness. On the evening when the dog dies, Jeff has spent almost all of their evening together staring out the window, and nothing she says can distract him. Until she comes out dressed in her nightgown. That one moment in which he is distracted by her beauty is precisely the moment when the woman across the way screams because her dog has been killed. Lisa distracted the eyes of both Jeff and the audience from an important development in the plot.
Jeff's Massive Camera is Sketchy
King Kong
Spectators
I must begin by saying that this week's screenings were very enjoyable. (Despite the fact that I completely forgot two movies meant almost four hours). My favorite connection among them was the character's prying curiosity mixed with the need for visual pleasure. As Cowie says, “[it] invokes the specifically sexual pleasure of looking that is identified as exemplary of classical Hollywood." (492)
It's true we love watching other people and sometimes for no good reason. Jeff had been sitting in his apartment for six weeks and considering that he nicknamed all his neighbors, he must have done nothing but look out that window. Looking gave him a pleasure that hypnotized him one way or another.
"Rear Window explores the limitations such voyeurism produces in our relations to others. Instead, it demands that we recognize our implication, and pleasure, in voyeuristic looking and what this makes us blind to." (492)
This visual pleasure does blind us to our surroundings. Take for example the scene where King Kong is being photographed by reporters. The audience just loved looking at the drama and did not become aware of the danger they were in.* Or just Carl’s curiosity about King Kong, and how that led to him capturing King Kong, despite the fact that King Kong had killed half the crew.
Which this all just leads my mind to Third Cinema. If we weren’t yearning for more drama then maybe we’d realized that those stories are based on real facts that need to be solved.
*(Did King Kong's rage at being photograph not remind anyone of Britney Spears and her umbrella?)
Monday, September 29, 2008
Panoptic Neighborhoods
I'm wondering why we didn't screen Rear Window against Keenan's article, except that it's extremely relevant to Mulvey's work too (but than again, what movie isn't?). The window in Rear Window sets up various displays, frames, narratives; the lives of the people inside are given narratives by their framing, a sort of cinematic Mulveyian display. The people become a sort of language, their actions carrying meaning to the spying LB. Barthes talked about how images signify on the level of connotation; in Rear Window the lives of LB's neighbors become images to be seen and received as language. That image only exists if light passes from within the window to the outside (the darkened window or room carries no meaning, a projector that is not turned on). That language of window images transmit troubling information, and if anything Rear Window demonstrates a panopticon where it's inhabitants do not realize that they are being watched.
Honestly the first time I saw Rear Window it bored me out of my mind. Now, I still enjoy all the other Hitchcock films I've seen so far more (doesn't mean they are better), but Rear Window is much more interesting to me now, just because of my theoretical background maybe. Perhaps what is exciting to most people who see the film didn't excite me, which is watching an audience construct a narrative out of performances happening outside their own encapsulated private world. It was only when LB's world transgressed upon the private home of another, and when the Salesman transgressed onto LB's home was a really interested the first time I saw the film. And any sort of transgression or travel outside of LB's home is done by females. The first time I saw LB pull out his camera lens I couldn't help but notice how he lay it right down on his crotch. Rear Window is almost (or perhaps just outright is) parodying the way phallus is tied to vouyerism, yet it is female bodies that must perform actions for the male. Although this includes making him a sandwich in the kitchen, this also includes investigating, bringing about justice, and doing things that LB is powerless to do. In a sense, he is emasculated. After all, with that huge cast covering his crotch I imagine sex is very hard to do.
These are my scattered thoughts about the film (it's almost 3AM so perhaps I'm not in the best of shape to be replying currently) but I want to see what people think. The fun thing about King Kong was that at the time it was a film of technical brilliance, and the fun of the film was to try and almost figure out the apparatus behind the picture, to see how it was made. Now it's quite obvious how that works, but it removes a level of reading that can be made, which is when we realize that the actors really are "standing in front of and watching a screen" during sequences where stop-motion occurs in the background and live action in the foreground. Again, windows stare out at King Kong, and King Kong has the power to break past those windows and reach into the private domain for his woman. In short, the questions I want to ask are these: In what ways does this film support or deny Keenan's thesis? To what extent is the window also a cinematic screen - in both Rear Window and King Kong? At first in King Kong, we objectify the women, tribals, and monsters but is there a moment perhaps where we empathize with each of them, or resist the classic notions of cinema? In Rear Window, the woman is clearly in the position of the to-be-gazed according to Mulvey's theories, but at the same time that awareness is made clear through the woman inserting herself into the narratives behind the windows LB watches, and also as a sort of physical extension of the man (just as the camera lens, wheelchair, flash bulb, and binoculars become mechanical/cyborg extensions of LB). Does Rear Window somehow resist classic cinema portrayals or reinscribe them in a new way?
If I have any responses to the readings I will post those also.
Mandabi by Ousmane Sembène, 1968
For any of you who is interested in Sembène's works, Mandabi is a good film to try - perhaps a bit more accessible and relatable, in my opinion. Sembène, the Senegalese filmmaker who passed away just an year ago, is often said to be "the father of African cinema." He was a significant figure not only in post-colonial cultural awakening, but also in the Négritude as a radical, uncompromising critic. (*a literary and political movement developed among the Francophone African world to promote black heritage against French intellectual domination.) I watched this film for a french literature course last year titled The Francophone World; the film, compared to Ceddo, is a bit more modest in delivering its narrative and in addressing issues that may be slightly more relevant to the general audience. (largely in regarding social injustice, post-colonial political issues, gender issues, etc.)