When students ask me: ‘Do you never get bored with a film after you have analyzed it thoroughly?’ my usual reply is: ‘Either the film is not as good as you have assumed, or your analysis is not succinctly enough’. The books I recommend have all, in their own ways, taught me how and why I love the movies as I do. (Film) theory ideally functions as a stepping-stone to cinephilia, and the best way to ensure that a love for cinema will grow is to develop an attention to details, idiosyncratic shot transitions, focus (or out-of-focus), striking performances, un-heard camera movements (or the choice of a static shot).
This is a ‘crazy endeavor’ from the earlier days of film studies. Inspired by Christian Metz’s ‘le grand syntagmatique’, so-called film semioticians tried to close-read films as meticulously as possible. This resulted in a number of fascinating shot-by-shot analyses, sometimes of a particular scene (Bellour’s well-known interpretation of 82 shots from The Birds) to full-length schemes (on Minnelli’s Gigi, e.g.).
Stephen Heath wrote a wonderfully detailed essay on Welles’s Touch of Evil, but this was even surpassed by Bellour’s North by Northwest, which, like the earlier mentioned essays, is included in this volume, a translation of articles originally published in French, most of them in 1979 and 1980. Though the laborious method has not been without its flaws (there is an inclination to over-interpretation), Bellour’s efforts nonetheless gave evidence of an unprecedented passionate cinephilia.
"No serious student of film should miss the great work collected in this volume."-W. A. Vincent, Choice
"When so much writing about film is based on overall impressions or shadowy memories, on notes scribbled in the dark or published shot breakdowns that are often overgeneralized or even inaccurate, it is refreshing to be confronted with such scholarly work, characterized by a genuinely attentive eye and a punctilious observation of detail. This long-awaited collection, gathering Bellour's ground breaking studies into one volume, will surely be a crucial source of inspiration for future generations of film scholars." -Peter Wollen, Bookforum
This study was published during my student years, and I was instantly attracted to Žižek’s unorthodox approach and his idiosyncratic rhetoric. The idea that (Lacanian) theory and (Hegelian) philosophy only make sense insofar as one can explain it to two ‘idiots’ by using examples from ‘popular’ culture, and film in particular, struck a chord with me.
The way Žižek can discuss within only a few pages a Stephen King adaptation, a spaghetti western, and a Fritz Lang film has confused several of his critics, but it has been mind-blowing to me to the present day. Bold and thought-provoking as his works are, he is the Tadej Pogačar within the academic world. The Slovenian cyclist Pogačar could become world champion even after a crazy attack; Žižek can bring crazy associations to a proper end.
Slavoj Žižek, a leading intellectual in the new social movements that are sweeping Eastern Europe, provides a virtuoso reading of Jacques Lacan. Žižek inverts current pedagogical strategies to explain the difficult philosophical underpinnings of the French theoretician and practician who revolutionized our view of psychoanalysis. He approaches Lacan through the motifs and works of contemporary popular culture, from Hitchcock's Vertigo to Stephen King's Pet Sematary, from McCullough's An Indecent Obsession to Romero's Return of the Living Dead—a strategy of "looking awry" that recalls the exhilarating and vital experience of Lacan.
Žižek discovers fundamental Lacanian categories the triad Imaginary/Symbolic/Real, the object…
First remarkable fact: This was written by a philosopher. Second remarkable fact: the study was published at a time when film studies had a strong political orientation, and therefore Cavell’s book was an odd one out, for it had a ‘light-hearted’ subject: seven screwball comedies, made between 1934 and 1949. Its relevance has only been acknowledged in retrospect.
Cavell’s style is colloquial and his aim was to set up a ‘dialogue’ with the films. Even though I am less enamored with his philosophical interventions, this work helped me to truly appreciate all seven ‘comedies of remarriage’ he had selected, and The Awful Truth (Leo McCarey, 1937) in particular has remained one of my all-time favorites ever since. Any analysis that encourages us to love a movie under discussion is worth recommending.
During the '30s and '40s, Hollywood produced a genre of madcap comedies that emphasized reuniting the central couple after divorce or separation. Their female protagonists were strong, independent, and sophisticated. Here, Stanley Cavell names this new genre of American film-"the comedy of remarriage"-and examines seven classic movies for their cinematic techniques and for such varied themes as feminism, liberty, and interdependence.
Included are Adam's Rib, The Awful Truth, Bringing Up Baby, His Girl Friday, It Happened One Night, The Lady Eve, and The Philadelphia Story.
Jean-Luc Gordard famously said that film criticism died with the premature demise of Serge Daney, at the age of 48, in 1992. Daney wrote an incredible number of essays and reviews, and his eloquence is astounding. Daney seems to have undergone something of a breakthrough in the Anglo-Saxon world more than thirty years after his death with some new translations, such as The Cinema House.
I consider him the most original reviewer that has ever lived, for I can never foretell his opinion of a certain film: he is constantly oscillating between cinephilic passion and political commitment, between enthusiasm and derision, and for him, moral issues are determined by a filmmaker’s formal approach rather than content: one can ruin a film by making an inappropriate tracking shot.
The writings of one of the greatest film critics of his generation on the auteur approach of the French New Wave to a more structural examination of film.
One of the greatest film critics of his generation, Serge Daney wrote for Cahiers du Cinéma before becoming a journalist for the daily newspaper Libération. The writings collected in this volume reflect Daney's evolving interests, from the auteur approach of the French New Wave to a more structural examination of film, psychoanalysis, and popular culture. Openly gay throughout his lifetime, Daney rarely wrote explicitly about homosexuality but his writings reflect a queer…
How can one take the tradition of feminist film studies (instigated by Laura Mulvey’s ‘the male gaze’ essay) seriously and at the same time be hooked to the cinema of Alfred Hitchcock?
Tania Modleski had set herself the task in this 1988 study to combine these two positions that, for a long time, seemed mutually exclusive. Whereas Mulvey had mentioned that the flashback in Hitchcock’s Vertigo was an exception that had proven the rule (of a cinema of patriarchy), Modleski reversed this by making the exceptions as such the rule in Hitchcock’s work. She thus ended up not condemning Hitchcock’s presumed patriarchal attitude but uncovering his ambivalence.
In her readings, she convincingly explains that it is not just a matter of desiring female characters but also identifying with them among others because of their cleverness.
Originally published in 1988, The Women Who Knew Too Much remains a classic work in film theory and feminist criticism. The book consists of a theoretical introduction and analyses of seven important films by Alfred Hitchcock, each of which provides a basis for an analysis of the female spectator as well as of the male spectator. Modleski considers the emotional and psychic investments of men and women in female characters whose stories often undermine the mastery of the cinematic "master of suspense." The third edition features an interview with the author by David Greven, in which he and Modleski reflect…
Using a wide range of film examples—from Chaplin to Antonioni, Badlands to Bad Timing, and Fight Club to The Virgin Suicides – Film Narratology elaborates upon Mieke Bal’s pioneering Narratology as a point of reference. Whereas Bal focused on literature and visual art for her theory of narration, this study is meant to function as its ‘adaptation’ in the domain of cinema.
It addresses seriously Seymour Chatman’s idea that ‘there are things that novels can do and films can’t – and vice versa.’ This study is dedicated to this and vice versa. Literature consists of words, but film is much more complex, because its shots are ‘over-specific,’ because it makes time and movement concrete, because it combines images, sounds, and music.
