Pushing the Limits of Mediocrity

The 400 Blinks: Bodily Captivity and Sexual Validation

2009-07-21T12:07:00.000-07:00

The famous closing sequence of Francois Truffaut’s The 400 Blows (1959) depicts its protagonist, the newly emancipated Antoine Doinel, running towards the sea. This running sequence, filmed in one long tracking shot, (which at the time was quite groundbreaking) lasts longer than one would expect. When he gets to the sea he steps in the water, slows his pace, turns around, looks directly into the camera, the frame freezes, the movie ends. The juxtaposition of captivity, then extreme mobility followed by extreme immobility, when placed against traditional norms involving representation of masculinity, is quite telling. In the context of my argument, this scene serves as a metaphorical micro-narrative, both echoing and challenging traditional ideas about male sexuality. For example, sexual pursuit is often represented in films by some form of male physical activity. Toughness, speed, physical tenacity and of course body size, including the size of the penis where it’s shown, are all rewarded with sexual gratification.

Scenes like this rhyme with the one I mentioned insofar as they typify a climactic attempt at male validation within the narrative context. We have all seen countless films that build up to the moment when the hero wins the game, conquers the enemy, or completes the quest and gets the girl. What about the male body necessitates its use as the primary source of sexual validation and what narrative contexts attempt to change this? Just try and think of last film you saw where the hero got the girl solely by solving the puzzle, creating the masterpiece, or god forbid, communicating effectively.

When faced with the challenge of representing male sexuality outside the traditional, phallic norm, some filmmakers have turned to the loss of limb function to deemphasize the penis as a sexual necessity. These films, when stacked against one another, make up their own subgenre of melodrama: the disability narrative. Films like Coming Home (1978); Born on the Fourth of July (1989) and The Waterdance (1992) put fairly typical male heroes in positions of physical paralysis, usually from the waist down. These characters must re-learn how to “function” in all areas of life. Invariably, in each of these films a major factor of this functionality is sexual ability. This is true to the point that in this genre, it is practically a rule that at least one major plot point turn around this question: If he can’t get an erection, how is he supposed to have sex? Only the details about the answers vary. While these characters may not be able to get up, or “get it up”, they all get down or go down. In other words, the question is always answered in some kind of drawn out, pivotal scene, insistent on proving that these men can still perform.

Linda Williams, in her book Screening Sex, cites Jane Fonda and Jon Voigt’s performances in Coming Home as a departure from the more traditional depiction of “active, phallic thrusting into a passive receptacle.” In the film, Fonda’s character has her first orgasm with a man who, as far as we know, is unable to have an erection. Williams argues that this depiction breaks the normative representation of the thrusting, pounding male sex machine in favor of a softer approach; emphasizing a fuller body experience. She is right, insofar as the scene takes the sexual emphasis off of the penis as the sole provider of female pleasure. However, the film falls in line with other traditional phallic discourses, including other disability narratives, in that it rewards male sexual ability and finesse as a device for character validation and achievement. Moving the phallus from the penis to another part of the body and replacing “hard and fast” with “soft and slow” may depart from the norm and be unusual but the same narrative question is at work with the emphasis placed on the male body: “How is he going to get her off?”

Recently, Julian Schnabel’s The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007) appears to have revealed a new kind of disability narrative. Adapted from the autobiography of the same title, the film tells the story of the late Jean-Dominique Bauby, former editor of Elle magazine and sufferer of locked-in syndrome; a rare disease that causes almost total paralysis. Unlike the heroes of other disability narratives, Bauby does not have the use of his upper body; in fact, his only means of physical expression is the ability to blink one eyelid. Eventually, he learns to communicate by means of a scribe who painstakingly lists letters until he gives an appropriate blinking response, she writes the letter down, and so on. Corporeal point-of-view shots, vivid flashbacks and lucid fantasy sequences force character empathy and audience identification in a way that few films attempt to do. Surprisingly, unlike the disability narratives mentioned before, there is no pivotal, validating sex sequence where the question, “If he can’t get an erection, how is he supposed to have sex?” is even addressed.

This is not to say that the film caries no sexual charge. In fact, it is practically premised upon Bauby’s sexuality. However, this only makes the lack of a central, validating sex scene more interesting. Within the three main cinematic contexts that make up the narrative, patterns of sexual expression emerge which both reinforce and present new approaches to traditional notions of male sexuality. These contexts include: subjective point-of-view shots with voice-in-the-head narration; flashbacks mostly shot on hand-held; and fantasies, which mix flashbacks, subjective realism, and mashed up archival footage.

The persistent use of point-of-view camerawork in this film is so stunning because the subject is bedridden. For the first twenty minutes his view is limited, and so is ours. When one of his eyes needs to be sewn shut, we experience that visually. When he is distracted visually, so are we. Such distractions usually come in the form of two conveniently beautiful young ladies sent to assist in his recovery. As his new speech therapist and a physiotherapist introduce themselves he asks himself, “Am I in heaven?” In the first few sequences like this, the camera’s “eye” grazes their bodies shamelessly. However, as therapy continues and he begins to rely on his caregivers’ lips and the repeated alphabet for communication, this sort of optical fondling decreases and so do the point-of-view shots.

An even more interesting context for sexual discourse in Diving Bell comes in the form of abundant flashbacks. These glimpses into the past prove valuable by establishing what Bauby’s character was like before his stroke. We learn that as editor of Elle he was saw no shortage of attractive women and that he had serious relationships with at least two of them. He saw himself as, “Handsome, debonair…” One such flashback is particularly interesting for our purposes. In it, he and his statuesque lover embark on what he claims he thought was going to be a “dirty weekend.” Driving the car, she informs him that they are going on a pilgrimage for her benefit, “I want to see the Madonna and drink holy water.” Later, as they walk through the crowded street, she is noticeably taller than he is. She asks him to buy a statue of the Virgin Mary. He complies. Later that night, the two lay next to each other in bed, naked, the Virgin literally glowing over them. “I can’t make love with her watching.” Her frank refusal to turn it off comes almost as invitation for him to break up with her, which he does and she replies just as frankly, “Turn off the light, but not my Madonna.” Bauby then gets out of bed, gets dressed and goes for a walk.

If Diving Bell ever had an opportunity for something akin to one of the sexual validation sequences mentioned earlier, this would have been it. A lovemaking scene at this point in the narrative would have been a clear contrast to the next scene where he is cradled in the pool by another grown man and asked, “Are you okay? Are you comfortable?” in the most gentle of tones. Moreover, the scene did involve his former lover, someone he undoubtedly would have made love with. In other words, despite taking place in the past, during a time of mobility, this scene’s position in the narrative and the character identification that occurs therein rhyme with the sexual validation scenes in other disability narratives. When faced with this opportunity, Diving Bell opts for introspection rather than expression.

Thirdly, various fantasy sequences offer further opportunities for sexual validation. In the first of these scenes, Bauby explains, “Other than my eye, there are only two things that aren’t paralyzed: my imagination, and my memory…I can imagine anything, anywhere.” He mentions travel, adventure and of course, sex. It is worth noting that his mention of sex in this scene is just that, a mention. It comprises three brief shots of his initial fantasy montage. A lover in bed opens the sheets to reveal her breasts. They embrace and kiss on the beach, both of them only wearing bathing suit bottoms. Then, in the following shot, he continues but the woman is wearing a full body, one-piece bathing suit. It is unclear whether or not this is the same woman but the way the scene is cut suggests that it wouldn’t matter to him if it were not.

A later fantasy scene carries a greater, though less direct sexual charge. Frustrated at the repetitious “TV dinners”, he transports himself to a fancy restaurant full of lavish seafood. The only other occupant is his beautiful translator. He invites her to join him. As they begin feeding each other, quick cuts between tracking close ups of the body treat them as though they are making love. They share a few brief, yet passionate kisses. Not only is the most sensual scene in the film, it takes place in a place where anything can happen: his mind. If there should be sex scene anywhere it is here. Yet, the two come away from their kiss and Bauby sits back in his seat, content. This pause after their kiss signifies the single biggest difference between Diving Bell and other disability narratives. Here, sensuality is treated subtly and with restraint as a conscious choice by the protagonist in a setting free from boundaries rather than a sexual performance as an effort to prove that he can still please a woman. In scenes shortly following, the same woman he fantasizes, his translator, confesses that she is in fact, in love with him and puts her head on his shoulder. Nowhere is it even implied that the two become any more physical than that.

However, for all its uniqueness, Diving Bell falls in line with other disability narratives in a couple crucial ways. From the angle taken so far, these films use disability as an “opportunity” to break free from traditional phallic representations of male sexuality. However, one thing these films have in common is that they premise the experience of alternate forms of sex upon the actual, physical loss of penis function. In so doing, these films continue to privilege the penis as the source of male sexual power through its absence. In other words, these men do not choose to experiment, they are forced to by virtue of their disabilities.

Another generic convention yet to be broken, at least in mainstream cinema, is a disability narrative with anything other than a straight, white male as its subject. While not particularly surprising, this fact shows how far these types of stories have to go before they truly tap into their potential.

As mentioned earlier, sexual undertones saturate the way these movies treat the male body with regard to mobility. The portrayal of the physical act of running appears significant when viewed in light of the film’s climax. The climactic scene occurs as a flashback to the instance that put Bauby in his position in the first place: his stroke. As indicated earlier, the whole scene pays homage to The 400 Blows. It uses the theme music from the film, features a tracking montage of Paris, like the original, and sends its characters traveling through a lush field. In terms of representation of the male body, three elements tie the two films together in this sequence: captivity, escape/mobility, and immobility. While driving, Bauby asks his son if he showers with his soccer team. He then tells a story of a boy on his soccer team when he was a boy who wouldn’t take his clothes off to shower. The boy was kicked off of the team. His father threatened to punch the coach. That the story was about Bauby himself is suggested by his asking, “Not your problem? Say the word and I’ll punch…” Almost immediately after this exchange, Bauby has his definitive debilitating stroke, sending his son into a panic, running for help. As prisoner of sexual fear, he goes for a drive in the country and, like Antoine Doinel, ends up at his very own “sea” with no where to go but inside.

Diving Bell uses this homage to tie themes of sexual repression and fear into a story about a disabled former womanizer. This scene and others in the film like it suggest that despite the suave persona he appeared to have had as the editor of Elle, his ideas about sexuality were linked with bodily shame that dated back to his youth and only by becoming a prisoner inside his own body could he be truly free to explore limitless sexual expression on his own terms.

Liquid Media: Recent Upheavals of Tradition

2008-11-04T04:42:00.000-08:00

Over the past quarter century, rapid technological advancements have helped shape the way artists and consumers view new media. The advent of digital formatting has challenged traditional distribution methods drastically. With almost any album, film or television show available for free at the click of a button, the power to judge the quality of a given work is stripped from the executive and the critic and given to the consumer. I submit that in the instances following, the aesthetics of art produced under such circumstances both counter and reflect the ever-shifting relationships between artists and consumers. This essay briefly examines three recent pieces, all released within the last six months, which exemplify the aesthetic influence of what I call “Liquid Media[1]” upon traditional modes of production, distribution and exhibition.

Because artists, especially those who take advantage of liquid media, tend to influence one another, I will organize my argument chronologically. First, I will look at an album released last June by digital mash-up artist, Girl Talk, entitled Feed the Animals (2008). I will illustrate how visual style and performance can turn post-modern art into a self-referential celebration while using only samples. Second, I will discuss how the innovative packaging Of Montreal’s Skeletal Lamping (2008) opens the discussion of alternative distribution methods which may provide artists with new opportunities for expression and subvert the increasing intangibility of new media. Finally, I will briefly analyze a short film released only a week ago, entitled Ponytale (2008) and the subtle function aesthetics play in expressing the shift in acceptable modes of distribution.

Former biomedical engineer, Greg Gillis, otherwise known as “Girl Talk,” isn’t the first person to make music based solely on samples. Why then has his work garnered so much attention? The New York Times called his album Feed the Animals a lawsuit waiting to happen. This is because it uses over 300 intentionally recognizable samples, none of which he has obtained permission to use. Gillis claims that his use of the samples fall under the “Fair Use” doctrine of US copyright law because of the brevity of each sample and it’s assumed financial inconsequentiality. However, the legal implications of Gillis’ work are not the only thing that makes it a perfect specimen of liquid media.

Following artists such as Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails, Gillis released Feed the Animals digitally as a “pay what you want” download. This new method of distribution raises some interesting questions. What makes art valuable? Is it originality? If so, what of all the borrowed notes, colors, brushstrokes, and melodies used even in classical art? Or is it the time or labor that goes into it? One can’t help wonder what Marx would have to say on the matter. How does value and use value translate when the value of the commodity under consideration is entirely subjective? Are there intrinsic qualities inherent in all art that endow it with “value?” It is not the design of this essay to answer these questions, rather open them for careful consideration and point out that it is not obvious what gives art monetary value. Therefore, liquid media forces artists, consumers and distributors to reevaluate what they produce, what they experience and what they invest in.

There is a connection between Feed the Animals’ alternative method of distribution and the aesthetic of Greg Gillis’ live performance and it has everything to do with what Marshall McLuhan would call “Cool Media.” That is, it engages the audience and relies, in this case almost exclusively, on participation and interaction. One need only see Girl Talk play live to understand why he has garnered so much attention. Gillis performs with as much flamboyance and bravado as any of the artists he samples. However, he can do something they cannot. Because he is not the original creator of the hooks, melodies and lyrics he uses; he also functions as a crowd member, celebrating the music on equal terms with those he performs for. He even invites as many audience members as will fit onto the stage with him to dance the night away. Unlike concerts where fans go to worship the artist, Gillis worships with the audience. It’s as if each participant gets to be part of his or her own private music video.

As we look at another artist who has recently challenged traditional methods of media distribution, consider again the question of what gives art value. Kevin Barnes, the creative force behind Athens, Georgia’s of Montreal, would argue that it is the ability of that art to do two things: first, facilitate self expression, and second, provide real world utility. Along with the unique packaging of his latest album, Barnes published an essay in blog form describing the ethos behind the band’s extra-musical creative endeavors. He writes:

…ideally, every object that you bring into your home, should feel exceptional to you. Otherwise, it just adds to the clutter and chaos of your life. We feel that there’s no reason to produce another object that just sits on a shelf. We only want to produce objects that have a function and that can be treasured for their singularness. Objects that can transform a room, bend the mind and inform your dreams. A CD has little value, as an object, and the conventional, right angle plagued CD packaging, we’ve been forced to endure forever, has nothing new to offer us either. (Barnes)

Barnes also happens to be the husband and brother of the visual artists who design all of the band’s album packaging. The newest of Montreal album, Skeletal Lamping, comes in several different forms: a compact disc with a package that folds out into a diorama, an LP that contains a giant horse-shaped poster, a collection of wall decals, a collection of buttons, a t-shirt, and a tote bag. Barnes explains further:

Now, we find ourselves in the middle of an exciting epoch: A time, when new technology has shattered the conventional business model and has set a paradigm shift in motion. For some people in the music biz, this is terrifying. For us, it is a fucking miracle! While the kings are in a stupor, we are going to take full advantage of the changing guard. (Barnes)

This approach to the liquidity of media differs from Gillis’ in that, rather than embracing and exploiting the intangibility of recorded music, Barnes attempts to give it form and substance by transforming it into a commodity with real use value. For fans of the band this is a blessing. Someone like Theodor Adorno, however, might argue that this abstract method of artifact association may well spark a trend that could, when applied on a global scale, function to perpetuate what he calls “the circle of manipulation and retroactive need.”

So far, two very different musical responses to liquid media have been examined. Yet, if there is one artistic form, which epitomizes the metamorphosis from solid to liquid media, it is music video. While, one might argue that inexpensive, lo-fi music videos, like many of the films posted by amateurs on Youtube, dilute the market for more expensive projects; I contend that, as has occurred with other art forms, technological advances will eventually catch up with the masses, projects lacking in substance and style will sift to the bottom, and some very interesting and creative films will shine through at an amateur level. This is already evident in one of the successful “siblings” of the music video genre: the action sports film. Half music videos, half documentaries, theses films do not exist to serve the music; rather, the music gives continuity and meaning to the physical expressions of the athletes, creating a sense of connectedness with the viewer. They contain all of the stylistic elements mentioned by Carol Vernallis in the opening of her article, “Music Video, Songs, Sound: Experience, Technique and Emotion in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”

Ponytale, produced by Actionhorse Films, and released only a week ago opens with this manifesto:

This movie has been in our minds for a very long time, and this year seemed like the perfect year to make it.

We made a movie the way we like it, politics free, with no one telling us what to ride, where to go, or who to film.

Pony Tale is a bunch of friends riding together, and that is how we see snowboarding.

In many respects, this film falls in line with others of its genre. It is essentially a series of montages displaying a variety of athletes, (in this case snowboarders) performing an assortment of stunts, set to music. There are also brief skits with very simple stories and little narration. However, the film sets itself apart from its counterparts in the way it challenges structural conventions and responds to its intangibility.

First, it organizes its scenes according to setting and chronology. This is rare in the action sports genre; rather, sequences are usually organized according to each individual athlete, giving each an opportunity to shine, one at a time, in a manner suited to his or her individual style. Ponytale’s structure removes the emphasis from the rider as an individual and places it in the moment. This functions, like Gillis’ live performance and Barnes’ commodities, to help the viewer create a sense of ownership with the materiel. This identification extends beyond the mere mirroring of the movements themselves, to that of the whole winter, spring and summer.

Second, the piece is released, like Gillis’ album, online, free to stream or download. Donations are available but not required. Of course, this project has sponsors, and there is a definite commercial quality to many of the visual aspects of the materiel, including the clothing and equipment shown. Nevertheless, the cinematography, editing, lighting and level of performance are all above par for the genre. The question of weather the high quality makes it a better gift to the consumer or only a better commercial is beside the point. A quality piece of art was produced and released digitally, to the public, free of charge.

In conclusion, major technological advances constantly challenge individuals and societies to reevaluate traditional modes of operation. Obviously, the effects of these changes will not affect all people and groups equally. Weather or not artists and citizens ever successfully create a harmonious, mutually beneficial relationship, and weather digital media can facilitate that balance remains to be seen.

[1] The term “Liquid Media” refers to the ambiguous shape and lack of physicality inherent in any form of art, which can be rendered, expressed, stored, or transported digitally. Like liquid, this new media has definite “volume” (the look, sound, etc) but no definite “shape” (CD, Tape, MP3, etc).

Believe in Ghosts: A Close Analysis of Snow White (1933)

2008-10-27T20:13:00.001-07:00

In the last century animation, like other media, has undergone a series of significant technological advancements, each causing artists to redefine the way they interpret the world. Of these, Max and Dave Fleischer’s rotoscope stands out as a benchmark in the effort to successfully capture the essence of human form, including gesture and movement. Patented in 1917, the tool projects live action footage frame by frame through a piece of glass over which animators trace. (Furniss, 76) By solving the problem of how to accurately represent the complexities of human movement, new choices for animators opened up. One of these was how to garnish this new body, or rather, since the body obviously does not need to be traced exactly as it appears through the rotoscope, what is it going to be? The Fleischers turned to the unique dance styling of Cab Calloway, using his rotoscoped body as the model for their character, Koko the Clown, in a series of films called Out of the Inkwell. One of these films is Snow White (1933). This essay explores Fleischer’s Snow White, and examines how abstraction can help define the relationship between the ‘physical’ and the ‘uncanny’ through imagery, narrative, and the rotoscope itself with particular reference to Calloway’s performance as Koko the Clown.

In her article, “Cadaver of the Real: Animation, Rotoscoping, and the Politics of the Body”, Joanna Bouldin theorizes the nature of animated being-ness, “comparing the ontological status of the photographically recorded image with its powerful ability to conjure the physical presence and materiality of the original object…” (Bouldin, 7) Note that the very act of conjuring a physical presence acknowledges the absence of such. In terms of iconographic portrayal of such an absence, few images are as effective and universally acceptable as the ghost. [1] “Saint James Infirmary Blues” portion, which makes up roughly a third of the film, is rich with such imagery.

For example, shortly after Koko begins his serenade, the Queen uses her Magic Mirror to transform him into another creature. His new body is composed thus: a small, white sheet, split down the middle with ragged ends; a head and two arms, which appear to be covered by the sheet; two long, white, rubbery legs; and a pair of white slippers. This relatively abstract form, though obviously no longer Koko the Clown, bears strong resemblance to the “white sheet ghost” image popular in western tradition, and for that reason I will refer to it as ‘Koko the Ghost.’

There are two main indicators that this is indeed Koko’s Ghost. First, the Queen’s role in the transformation creates a narrative link between the two bodies. Second, while the bodily form changes, its overall size, gestures and movements continue seamlessly. The invisible, rotoscoped image of Cab Calloway manifests itself, clearly indicating that this more abstract figure is, in fact, the ‘ghost’ of Koko the Clown.

Interestingly, though not rotoscoped, the background and other animated elements in the sequence reflect a similar ‘ghostly’ motif. Ghastly faces in the form of gaping caves, along with caricatured skeletons make up most of the background. A specter flies from one end of the frame to the other as it changes forms inclucing a snake, a skeleton, and an owl. The reference of each of these images to popular traditions regarding the supernatural helps to further indicate Koko’s transformation as a ‘spiritual’ one. Though not actually rotoscoped, these direct allusions the supernatural help assert the relationship of animation to the perception of the uncanny. The effect of this imagery is heightened as it operates according to a framework, provided by the narrative.

The supposed dichotomy of body and spirit permeates much of Western folklore. Often such tales, or ‘ghost stories’ indicate a reaching out for, yet uneasiness about something familiar, though absent. The exact reason why the Fleischers combined the Snow White folktale with the song, “Saint James Infirmary Blues” is unclear, however; it may have something to do with similar thematic references to the uncanny.

N.J. Giradot, in an essay about Snow White, asserts that fairy tales contain a dimension concerned with “the mythic, sacred, religious or sublime- what Freud called the ‘uncanny’…” (Giradot, 278) The Queen’s magic mirror provides a good example. An object used for the objective interpretation of one’s physical self, when given magical properties and a personality, becomes a subjective instrument of character discovery, and in this instance, produces self-loathing. Incidentally it is the Queen’s self-loathing that creates the primary conflict of the story. Furthermore, the mirror functions in a way similar to the rotoscope itself, a subjective filter of the ‘real.’ It is no wonder then, that it is the very instrument with which the Queen transforms Koko the Clown into Koko the Ghost.

Now, as we look at the story contained within Koko’s musical number, “Saint James Infirmary Blues,” possible reasons for combining the pieces begin to emerge. Like much the folklore with which Snow White is associated, this musical piece has somewhat ambiguous origins, derives from a European folk tune, and exists in many different versions. The version contained within the film follows:

Folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary,

See my baby there;

She's stretched out on a long, white table,

She's so sweet, so cold, so fair.

Let her go, let her go, God bless her,

Wherever she may be,

She will search this wide world over,

But she'll never find another sweet man like me.

Now, when I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches,

Put on a box-back coat and a stetson hat,

Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain,

So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat.

An' give me six crap shooting pall bearers,

Let a chorus girl sing me a song.

Put a red hot jazz band at the top of my head

So we can raise Hallelujah as we go along.

Folks, now that you have heard my story,

Say, boy, hand me another shot of that booze;

If anyone should ask you,

Tell 'em I've got those St. James Infirmary blues.

The lyrics, when divided into two sections, point to the physical world and its relationship with and distance between that of the imagined, or spiritual world. First, Koko tells of a visit to pay last respects to a deceased lover. Although he describes her as beautiful, for better or worse he believes she will not be able to do better than him, presumably in the afterlife. Next, he details the manner in which he would like to be buried. His fantasized self-image is as that of a stylish, carefree, jazz enthusiast; yet that abstraction seems only obtainable in death. Just as the images of rotoscoped bodies are under the control of the animator, the animated Ghost of Koko, had he freedom from the animator, would have painted a much different picture. In fact, that picture looks a great deal like Cab Calloway.

It should be noted that this analysis covers only one example of rotoscopy, and many variations on the technique have emerged over the years. It is likely that what is said about one piece of work may not apply across the board, especially across various authors, nations and variations of the technology. As Bouldin puts it:

…although the rotoscope offers potentially liberatory possibilities in terms of deconstructing problematic corporeal and media boundaries, such subversive potential is not a necessary or inherent product of rotoscoping. Indeed, as Langer astutely points out, films can either foreground the co-presence of the rotoscoped body (thereby enhancing the resulting spectatorial unease) or they can obscure the use of the rotoscope and repress its unsettling double… In keeping with their long tradition of self-reflexive animation, (Snow White was) designed to accentuate the viewer’s awareness of the rotoscoped body and its corporeal co-presence by openly referring to the human body upon which it was mapped.” (Bouldin, 16)

[1] I will use the term ‘ghost’ alongside terms such as ‘specter’, ‘spirit’, and ‘uncanny’ in two ways. First, to draw upon iconographic ‘ghostly’ images in order to create a distinction between the ‘real’ and the ‘abstract.’ Second, I will use these terms in the more traditional or ‘literal’ sense, (stemming from the Christian concept of the “soul of a deceased person”) but only as it applies to fictional characters within the story. .

war certain if no peace

2008-10-10T21:53:00.000-07:00

Its been too long since I've posted so, generic update time.

Classes are crazy but awesome. My two generals: Hebrew and Human Evolution are the easiest. The three others all involve quite a bit of reading and writing, which I am fine with. I am really learning how to push myself but I am also still pretty lazy. It's a weird mix, though I try to lean towards the former.

Noteworthy media-related goings on in my life:

The new Of Montreal album, Skeletal Lamping keeps getting better and better.
Spike Lee's new film, Miracle at St. Anna, though thought provoking, had a few fatal flaws including bad acting, too many unnecessary scenes, and poor time structure. See it though.
I am reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest for school and love it. Recommended for anyone who hasn't read it yet.
Experimental animation: one of my new fascinations. My favorite artist at this point is Norman McLaren.
Microsoft Word's "notebook" function has proven addictive. I hold it partially responsible for my recent surge in academic enthusiasm.

Two posts ago I put up part of a document I found explaining a little about the "fair use doctrine" in our copyright laws. I have been interested lately in understanding what about art and other forms of intellectual property is intrinsically ownable. Is my confusion over the principle is similar to the confusion many Native Americans experienced at the concept of "owning the earth" when white settlers first showed up. This is one of the questions I want to develop more fully and eventually produce a polished written piece on. For now I am just using this blog as a sounding board for these ideas and if anyone ever reads it maybe I'll get some feedback.

Finally, here is a short by McLaren that I love. It won him an Oscar in 1952 for Best Documentary because there was no animation category.

Enjoy:

media is liquid

2008-09-28T11:11:00.000-07:00

One of the rights accorded to the owner of copyright is the right to reproduce or to authorize others to reproduce the work in copies or phonorecords. This right is subject to certain limitations found in sections 107 through 118 of the Copyright Act (title 17, U. S. Code). One of the more important limitations is the doctrine of “fair use.” Although fair use was not mentioned in the previous copyright law, the doctrine has developed through a substantial number of court decisions over the years. This doctrine has been codified in section 107 of the copyright law.

Section 107 contains a list of the various purposes for which the reproduction of a particular work may be considered “fair,” such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Section 107 also sets out four factors to be considered in determining whether or not a particular use is fair:

the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes;
the nature of the copyrighted work;
amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole; and
the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.

The distinction between “fair use” and infringement may be unclear and not easily defined. There is no specific number of words, lines, or notes that may safely be taken without permission. Acknowledging the source of the copyrighted material does not substitute for obtaining permission.

The 1961 Report of the Register of Copyrights on the General Revision of the U.S. Copyright Law cites examples of activities that courts have regarded as fair use: “quotation of excerpts in a review or criticism for purposes of illustration or comment; quotation of short passages in a scholarly or technical work, for illustration or clarification of the author's observations; use in a parody of some of the content of the work parodied; summary of an address or article, with brief quotations, in a news report; reproduction by a library of a portion of a work to replace part of a damaged copy; reproduction by a teacher or student of a small part of a work to illustrate a lesson; reproduction of a work in legislative or judicial proceedings or reports; incidental and fortuitous reproduction, in a newsreel or broadcast, of a work located in the scene of an event being reported.”

Copyright protects the particular way an author has expressed himself; it does not extend to any ideas, systems, or factual information conveyed in the work.

The safest course is always to get permission from the copyright owner before using copyrighted material. The Copyright Office cannot give this permission.

When it is impracticable to obtain permission, use of copyrighted material should be avoided unless the doctrine of “fair use” would clearly apply to the situation. The Copyright Office can neither determine if a certain use may be considered “fair” nor advise on possible copyright violations. If there is any doubt, it is advisable to consult an attorney.

FL-102, Revised July 2006

are you crazy? the fall will probably kill you.

2008-09-27T10:38:00.000-07:00

Dragline: Where'd the road go?
Luke: That's it. That's the end of it.
Convict: Man, there's still daylight.
Dragline: About two hours left.
Convict: What do we do now?
Luke: Nothin'.
Dragline: Oh Luke, you wild, beautiful thing. You crazy handful of nothin'.

Rest in peace Paul Newman.

what i wouldn't give for a large sock with horse manure in it

2008-09-20T09:18:00.000-07:00

somebody lives in shadows

2008-09-17T16:31:00.000-07:00

Pitchfork had some cool stuff on it today. One of those things is right below.

The other one of those things begins not so awesomely. The release date for Of Montreal's forthcoming Skeletal Lamping has been pushed back to Oct. 21. That's my brother's birthday. In the meantime, a new remix for Id Engager is out. Download it here.

Call them you will. The hipster snobs over at P4k aren't half bad at keeping me informed about my favorite musicians.

tennessee tendencies and chemical dependancies

2008-09-15T15:08:00.000-07:00

First, I posted a poll addressing a previous post. Please offer your input. Thank you.

Second, I seriously debated doing this, and I might regret it, but I decided to give those who have been keeping up on this thing with me a little treat. Below, I have posted the first few pages of Out of Touch, the screenplay I spent the last part of my summer working on. I hope you enjoy it. If you would like to read more, contact me.

(and then I deleted it.)

who watches those who watch the watchmen?

2008-09-07T19:36:00.000-07:00

Finished Watchmen. Now, the answer to the big question: did it live up to the hype? Yes... and no. I loved it. I also had some issues with it. (pun intended)

The story was compelling, however; I was expecting to be on the edge of my seat throughout the read and I wasn't. Between each chapter there are "documents" (letters, magazine articles, legal papers and so forth) which provide a sort of objective exposition, leading us deeper into the lives of the characters and the world they inhabit. The advantage of this is that we are able to get almost a dozen fully fleshed out, believable characters with strengths and weaknesses, desires and fears. The disadvantage is that three quarters into the thing, when I want to not be able to put it down, I get to the end of a chapter, dying to find out what happens next, but guess what. I have to read some more documents. This disrupted the narrative and caused me to lose interest.

This isn't too bad in the construct of a comic book. (sorry graphic novel) Keeping in mind that each "chapter" was originally an "issue." Remember though, that the whole reason bookstores can't copies of the thing stocked is because of the upcoming movie. (by the way, never before have I seen so much hype generated by a trailer alone) There is a little rule about good movies, they should SHOW, not TELL. The book follows this rule by showing these "documents", making the reader feel like part of the story. What I wonder, and am anxious to find out, is how the filmmakers chose to keep the rule (trusting they care about the rules) while still giving us sufficient character depth to drive the story.

For those of you who are thinking about reading it, or have already started, there is hope. Yes, there IS hope brothers and sisters! (today is Sunday, had to throw that in there) All I have to say is hang in there. The last chapter makes it all worth it. If the filmmakers can pull off this ending, I am sure Watchmen will make a fantastic movie.

when your eyes are slits in bags of fat

2008-09-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

First, apologies for the recent lack of posts.

Second, school has started. As a media studies major, this makes things interesting. I should get credit for this whole blog thing. But I don't. The nice thing is that I get to discover all kinds of new stuff through my classes. Then I get to write about it.

What I am trying to say is that I want to keep this blog going but am going to try to keep it separate from my school stuff. Unfortunately, this will mean more infrequent posts. Oh well.

Believe it or not, I do still find time outside of my schoolwork to pursue other media related interests. The most recent being samurai film. Since childhood, I have loved Japanese folklore; and since seeing Rashomon almost a year ago, I have been pretty fascinated with the cinema that has evolved out of it.

Last weekend I watched Akira Kurosawa's Yojimbo. Sadly, I am not very well versed in his work. I am getting there though. I will list just a few of the things I really like here and add to it as I continue my education.

1. The sound of angry Japanese. Gotta love those hard, machine gun consonant sounds.

2. Quick-paced, brief action sequences. Sanjuro hardly moves throughout the film; so when he does, it's that much more incredible.

3. Toshiro Mifune's acting. This dude's in all the Kurosawa films I've seen so far and WOW. Homeboy's got RANGE.

we need the eggs

2008-08-17T20:12:00.000-07:00

I just watched Annie Hall for the first time in, I don't know, a couple years or so at least. Possibly one of the best films about the contradictory nature of relationships. "I would never want to belong to any club that would have someone like me for a member." Woody Allen quotes a joke by Groucho Marx to define his life in terms of his relationships with women. I think of all of the writers and directors I admire, I would most like to sit and have lunch with Woody Allen. We would not talk about film at all.

Alvy, played by Allen, struggles to figure out where things went wrong with his ex girlfriend, Annie. He sifts through the pieces, their relationship, their differences, and their insecurities. Only the audience, it seems, can see how truly wrong for each other they are. Or are they? They do still try. How could they not? The two have such an attractive chemistry. Do they know something we don't? They appear to try long after each of them knows it isn't going to work. Essentially, in an effort to somehow "measure up," Annie becomes a reflection of Alvy. Though, Alvy is so neurotic and self loathing, how could he possibly love a reflection of himself?

My question to you is this: How many times have you ended a relationship feeling confused, only to later realize that perhaps you had been sabotaging it all along?

impossible impossible impossible

2008-08-16T00:13:00.000-07:00

Been in kind of a funk lately, thus the lack of posts. Well, that, and I've been working on a top 5 albums list for the first half of 2008. Saw Man on Wire with Sterling tonight. On the way to the theater I expressed to him hopes that this movie would incite in me some kind of desire to take responsibility for my emotions. This led to a discussion on whether or not that is possible.

Seeing someone do the impossible with such a striking combination of passion and nonchalance made me squirm a little in my seat. Why don't more people live their lives like that? I can't seem to conquer even the most run-of-the-mill challenges. Shoot, I decided I want an office job on campus and need a resume to send out. I've been putting off writing this thing like it's an epitaph. How the hell are any of my dreams going to ever take shape?

So this french guy, Philippe Petit sneaks up to the top of the World Trade Center shortly after the towers are built, rigs a cable, and tightrope walks between the things. The highlight, for me, is watching the expression on his face turn from intense focus to a confident, youthful smile as he steps out on the wire and begins to dance. He is so comfortable out there, on the edge of the world. Maybe thats the way life is meant to be lived and he is just one of the few who have been able to figure that out. He pointed out that it was so American for everyone to want to know "why." "Why? There is no why."

My dreams (whatever that's supposed to refer to) aren't going to "take shape." Thats terrifying and liberating to realize. Here goes nothing.

top 5 so far for 2008

2008-08-12T17:24:00.000-07:00

5. Girl Talk - Feed the Animals

As far as I know, this is the third pay-what-you-want download to be released. Some say it is because the album, self produced by Greg Gillis, is made entirely from samples of music that already exists. Raises a question of ownership. Is all art subject to a similar kind of "recycling?" Is "recycled" art as valid as "original" art?

4. Wolf Parade - On Mount Zoomer

Probably the most frequently played album in my car this summer. Saw them with Nicole in Tucson too. This one took a little bit to grow on me but seeing these guys live really solidified it. Funny how that works sometimes.

3. Bon Iver - For Emma Forever Ago

By far the most emotionally cathartic album for me this year, blending bitter and sweet with painful nostalgia. I can listen to this thing over and over and over and over and it still makes me feel, which is not always the easiest thing to do.

2. Why - Alopecia

These genre benders dazzled my ear palate the first listen. Unfortunately, I found this album like 2 days after they played here in the Grand Canyon State. This album rocks like 3 or 4 really catchy songs and leaves the rest to challenge the listener to decipher the lyrics.

1. M83 - Summer=Youth

Of all of the music taking us back to the 80's these days, this french artist takes on everyone's favorite decade with the most convincing and unassuming of genres. Easily the catchiest shoegaze I've heard in a while. The title of the album says it all; reckless and wistful, this album vividly brings back memories of adolecence with wisdom and hindsight.

swingin' that hammer fool, out on tha city block

2008-08-11T10:07:00.000-07:00

I decided that this would be a good place for me to get some opinions flowing about downloading. The subject of intellectual property rights always seems to produce interesting conversation, everyone's got something to say about it. I have mixed feelings on the subject and can see multiple sides. Feedback would be appreciated. The following are questions that I feel have been raised by our generation's advances in technology; keeping in mind that recorded media is, in a historical perspective, a relatively new thing.

What responsibility, if any, do consumers have towards artists?

What responsibility do artists have towards consumers?

What is the difference between an artist and a consumer?

Do artists have a responsibility towards society, to make it a better place?

Why is recorded media something that costs money? Is it because of the work it takes? The thought put into it? The cost of the actual printing of a record or tape or CD?

Should the party who ultimately receives the profit be the deciding factor in whether or not a piece of media warrants paying for? (independent VS major record labels)

With that, I will say that I download music. I download films. I do it frequently. I also buy records and DVDs, but not near the quantity that I download. Sometimes I feel bad, sometimes I don't. My justifications have changed over time and at this point, when I do it, I just try not to think about it. I don't know if that's right either though. The truth is, that on this subject I am not sure what's right. There are some artists whose albums I always purchase legitimately, and these days I don't really download movies that are either easy to find or not out on DVD yet.

I plan to discuss this more in the future but for now, if you would, please post comments about your opinions regarding the subject.

Do you download?

If so, how? Itunes? emusic? torrents?

What would make you purchase a piece of recorded media rather than download it?

Thank you!

...and I'll look down and whisper "No."

2008-08-09T22:30:00.000-07:00

Today has been surprisingly NOT boring. Went climbing, met with a couple of interesting new people. Separate people, separate meetings. It really is funny to notice how little age sometimes has to do with maturity. Full days make empty nights ok sometimes. If I don't go out tonight I will probably read Watchmen. You may have seen the trailer for the movie they are coming out with while waiting to view The Dark Knight. I am about two thirds through it. I picked it up at the recommendation of my friend Julian, the one person I know who still reads comics. Excuse me, graphic novels. This thing is pretty good though. I am just excited to be at the point in it where I now recognize all the stuff going on in the trailer. Should be interesting to see what they do with the movie. The story jumps between so many character perspectives and the definitions of good and evil melt together so that is hard to recognize a clear protagonist at this point in the story, much less where it is going. At least it keeps me reading.

fly like paper

2008-08-09T01:44:00.000-07:00

Saw Pineapple Express tonight with Joey. After watching some Olympic festivities and pushing down some Chinese (food, no pun intended) we picked up some purple guava Rockstars and hit the 11:05 showing. Still slightly buzzed from the caffeine, obviously. So, Pineapple Express. The day of the action comedy may be upon us once again. Well, maybe I shouldn't go quite that far but daaaang that shizz was funny. Could it be that the fact that I was on the one drug I have ever used for strictly recreational purposes made me feel slightly on the inside of the jokes. Obviously, the film had a necessary share of contraband; but, the bulk of the humor was either slap stick or non-sequitur in nature. In other words, the humor wasn't based completely around ganja, or doobie smack or whatever the kids are calling it these days. I found this rather delightful and I think others will also. Lots of death for a comedy, kind of graphic death. In fact, there were a couple scenes where I felt like I was the only one laughing and wondered weather or not I was emitting the appropriate response. Oh well.

this is lake directory calling party barge

2008-08-08T13:50:00.000-07:00

The summer has been fairly slow as far as album releases go. Usually when this happens I satiate my hunger for new sounds by either downloading albums by artists I have heard about but never listened to or going off of suggestions from friends. Two recent satisfying finds came from friends. After some prodding, Sean got me to check out Working for a Nuclear Free City which he described to me as a shoegazy Chemical Brothers. I love it. From Shane came the suggestion to check out Silver Jews. They took a few listens to warm up to but I think I am there now. I think I remember him comparing them to Why?. I see the comparison.

In other news, my screenwriting workshop ended today. Not that excited about it being over. It would be nice if the class could be long enough to help me get through my entire script. The class being only 5 weeks, I was able to, as with the other class members, finish the first 30 pages and my treatment. This makes two scripts that I have the first 30 pages and a treatment for: "Silent Stones" (I hate that title but haven't been able to think of something better.) and "Out of Touch" (The song references my favorite song by the 80's pop duo Hall and Oates.) I was thinking of making it my goal to finish at least one of them by the end of the year and to have them both done by the end of next spring semester.

This marks the beginning of the end of summer for me. These next two weeks will wrap things up. I have no job, I might get one. I have no fun plans, I might make some. More than likely though, I will just kind of hang out and wait for the insanity to begin.

Summer

2008-08-07T16:59:00.000-07:00

Summer is almost over. What I mean by summer is the beginning of full time school, and the end of the full time pursuit of leisure; as opposed to the date September 21 or the actual cooling of the weather. While others spent their time traveling abroad, flipping burgers and falling in love, I have only a couple of stories and a lot of time on my butt to show. Here are a few of the audio visual delights which have been the salt and pepper to my summer. (Below used to be images. they are gone now, sorry.)

eeeeeew I just stepped in some blog...

2008-08-07T14:35:00.000-07:00

Here goes nothing.